Page 18 of Matters of a Duke's Heart
Spencer forcefully wrenched his mind away from those thoughts and refocused on Lady Felicity. Her auburn hair was pulled back into a delicate style, allowing a lot of the curled length to flutter down her back.
Several strands framed her face, and Spencer admitted it was prettily done, but there was a voice in his head that rang with too much similarity.
She walked toward him, and he could see how deeply she inhaled. Was she nervous, as Spencer had been during his first wedding?
He’d given her four days to prepare for a new life. Heavens, four days, all for a selfish advantage, and also because Spencer hadn’t trusted himself not to retract his offer of marriage and pull away from the idea altogether, losing his nerve.
It was hardly enough time, especially given their first meeting in the Grand South Walk. He had been so rude to her. It was bad enough he’d been rude to any lady, impulsive and brash, but for that stranger to turn out to be Lady Felicity…
A cruel twist of fate, surely.
A chance to ask forgiveness that he still wasn’t convinced he had asked for well enough.
By the time Lady Felicity reached him at the end of the aisle, Spencer hadn’t figured out how to put his worries behind him or quell his racing thoughts. He mustered a smile as he reached to take her hand, but she awkwardly let her hands rest on her bouquet instead.
Right, Spencer reminded himself. This is not that sort of wedding.
Even if the church, and the guests, and the whole arrangement of it was all too similar.
Once, he had stood there and sworn his life to a woman he had thought would be his eternity, but he had grieved that woman for seven years, for she had not been present even during their marriage, even prior to her death. Did Lady Felicity believe the rumors that he had something to do with it?
Their vows were quickly made, and Spencer could not help but notice more differences.
His voice had jumped during his first wedding, through declarations full of nerves yet confident in emotion, knowing he would uphold his part of the bargain. Sophia had as well, back then.
His vows had been lengthy, and he’d incorporated her favorite poem—Who Ever Loved That Loved Not at First Sight?—and he recalled how their guests had sighed in adoration at their show of promise to one another.
There was no sighing now.
There was nothing but an audience that watched raptly, wondering what would become of such a hasty match.
Spencer himself wondered as well as he endured, with a rigid spine, the rest of the ceremony, and before he knew it he was wed.
Although he hadn’t wanted to have a celebration after the ceremony, Lord and Lady Merriweather had insisted on throwing a wedding breakfast at their townhouse.
He had thought it was for show—a grand, public display of aligning with the Duke of Langdon—but upon arriving with Felicity, he was proven both right and wrong.
He realized it was much more than that. Once their guests had filed into the dining hall where tables had been lain for a feast, they were approached by Lady Daphne Merriweather.
“Felicity!” she squealed, embracing her sister so tightly and familiarly that Spencer stepped aside uncomfortable. He looked anywhere but at the sisters, a pang going through him. Instead, he looked toward Rupert who stood with his own siblings. The three women watched in envy, their smiles immediately appearing when Spencer nodded in their direction.
“You look beautiful,” Lady Daphne praised, although they would have left Merriweather House together that morning. Spencer realized the compliment was to appeal to him for the choice of dress as Lady Daphne said, “your husband chose well for you.” Spencer cleared his throat, wondering how fast he could eat, show face through a dance or two, and then leave.
“Thank you,” his new duchess said, her voice pleasant but not injected with anything that particularly showed her gratitude.The words were merely words, no emotion behind them, and that knot of discomfort further tightened in his stomach. “The dress has made me feel pretty enough.” She half turned to him. “Thank you.”
“I cannot claim a woman’s beauty,” Spencer said quickly, still avoiding true eye contact. Felicity looked away too, while Daphne simply regarded the two of them with an amused smile on her lips.
“It a dress, nothing more. I could not have you wed in just any ballgown.”
At the responding silence, he finally looked back at the two sisters. Felicity looked surprised, while Lady Daphne’s amusement had only grown.
“I see you care for my sister already, Your Grace,” Lady Daphne giggled.
Spencer went to shake his head profusely, only to stop himself. It would be rude to outright deny such a thing, but he could hardly admit to something untrue. Instead, he straightened, and made to leave.
“I must greet my friend.” He paused before leaving.
Spencer walked away to properly greet Rupert. His friend pulled him aside, away from his eavesdropping sisters.
