Page 17 of Matters of a Duke's Heart
“If love does not happen,” she echoed, “then it will not be so bad.” The lie tasted like ash on her tongue. “I can read countless romances in books, after all.” She heard the strength she attempted to put into her voice, heard how strong she wanted to be for herself but also to save her sister from the burden of comforting her.
I will read my books, and I will ignore the heavy ache they bring with them when I long for the same, envious.
“Be patient with love,” Daphne said, one final comfort. “You have waited this long, and now you might even have a direct path to it through marriage. Do not give up hope yet. Focus on why you must marry, settle yourself, and go from there.”
Felicity mustered a smile, knowing she had to be resigned to such a thing anyway.
She hugged her sister tighter, hating that in a matter of days they would no longer have the simple ease of visiting one another’s room, gossiping and giggling over failed embroidery patterns, and knowing that whatever happened the other would only be next door.
So she hugged Daphne, knowing that if anything, her marriage truly would help her sister.
And if she could just focus on that long enough to make it to the church and through her vows then that would be enough for now.
Chapter 6
The next few days passed by far too quickly, and although Spencer had been the one to ask for the short engagement, the day of his wedding to Lady Felicity came around too quickly.
He had swiftly arranged the ceremony, suiting himself up appropriately for the occasion. He had arranged for Lady Felicity to be fitted with a simple but fine dress.
It was worthy of a duchess without the flare and frill of a gown she may have chosen for herself under normal circumstances.
He had the church ceremony organized and turned up alone as he watched too many of his guests whose attendance he didn’t care for enter with their families. Spencer entered, ignoring how the gazes of the ton followed him, as the whispers picked up behind their fans.
“A second marriage… let us hope that this one lasts far longer than his former one.”
“I do wonder if Lady Felicity knows what she is getting herself into.”
“I heard he is rather reformed. Lord and Lady Merriweather seemed impressed by his intentions to marry Lady Felicity.”
“After all, nobody really knows what happened to Lady Sophia.”
“Has anybody spoken with Lady Helena? She must be heartbroken. She had her eye on the duchy.”
Spencer kept his eyes fixed forward, and his jaw tight, as he stalked down the aisle of St. James’s church. In mere moments, Lady Felicity and the rest of the Merriweathers would arrive, and he would take her as his duchess. Alexander had remained at home upon Spencer’s request, which only really left Rupert and the rest of the Wexley family as the only faces he could find comfort in. Rupert offered him a silent nod of his head, a reminder that Spencer was doing the right thing.
For a moment, as Spencer took his place at the altar, he waited for another woman. He was almost eight years younger, and his stomach had jumped with nerves, awaiting his first love to meet him there.
A church had stretched above and behind him back then, the ton looking on, waiting to cast judgement on the bride’s wedding dress and what colors the duke wore.
Lady Sophia had matched Spencer that day. She had worn flowers in her hair the same color as his tailcoat and cravat—a deep, rich blue. He had been anxious to be a perfect husband back then while already navigating being a perfect duke.
Now, he was not as much nervous as he was impatient and detached. It would not be Lady Sophia coming down the aisle, and Spencer was old enough to know that love was a foolish notion.
It was an emotion people used to cover up interactions that wanted an excuse to be favored. We are in love, so we want you to be happy for us. He had called what he had with Sophia love so she might have wanted it, too. But he had genuinely felt it.
With Lady Felicity…
He bit back a humorless scoff. Convenience and nothing else. That was all there was to it, and he was quite fine with that.
Even then, when the old church’s door opened, his stomach tightened, and he fought not to look back. Yet he did—Spencer could not help himself.
In his mind, the faces of two women overlapped. Lady Felicity was admittedly beautiful in a quieter way than Sophia had been,and Spencer hated himself for making any sort of comparison, but he could not stop.
Green eyes met his, Lady Felicity looking so uncertain, so hesitant. Spencer blinked, and swore he saw the softest of brown eyes gazing back at him.
Back then, on their wedding day, Sophia’s face had been filled with love. She had been loudly beautiful, her features striking and demanding of attention even if she did not try to attract it, but oh, she had.
How long did it take her to stop feeling that love we’d had? Had she ever lo—
