“Good. Because someone needs to keep arguing with me about philosophy and correcting my Latin, and I’d rather it be you than some stuffy Cambridge don.” He stepped back, that familiar mask of casual amusement sliding back into place. “Besides, being related to a duchess should improve my standing considerably. I might finally get invited to the better parties.”
“There it is. I knew your concern was entirely self-motivated,” Cressida harrumphed.
“Always.” He grinned. “Take care of yourself, Your Grace.”
Harriet reached her as Peter moved away, John hovering at her shoulder in quiet support. Her friend’s embrace was fierce, trembling slightly with suppressed emotion.
“I’m so sorry,” Harriet whispered in her ear, voice thick. “If I’d known what you were trying to do… if I’d realized the danger you were putting yourself in…”
“This isn’t your fault, Harriet.” Cressida pulled back enough to meet her eyes, gripping her hands tightly. “You’re happy with John. That’s what matters. That’s what I wanted for you.”
“But you… Areyouhappy?” Harriet’s eyes were bright with tears that threatened to spill over. “You don’t have to do this. John and I could help. We could find another way. We have resources now, connections?—”
“There is no other way.” The reality settled heavily in Cressida’s chest, immovable as a boulder rooted in mire. “The scandal sheet made certain of that. This marriage is the only solution that salvages anything from the wreckage.”
“Ashmere is a good man,” John offered quietly, stepping forward. “I know his reputation suggests otherwise, but he’shonorable, Your Grace. Truly. He wouldn’t have offered marriage if he didn’t mean to honor those vows.”
Cressida’s gaze found Theodore across the chapel, standing with his aunt in quiet conversation. As though sensing her attention, he looked up, their eyes meeting across the distance with an intensity that made her breath catch.
Even now, with gold on her finger and vows barely spoken, the sight of him made her pulse quicken in ways that had nothing to do with duty or obligation. She was no doubt hurtling towards an end of some sort. She just did not know what it was yet.
“Write to me,” Harriet pleaded, reclaiming her attention as John wandered away, towards where her husband stood with Lady Seymore. “Please. Every week at minimum… even if it’s only to complain about how impossible he is or how dreadfully boring everything becomes for you.”
“That I can promise.” Cressida managed a smile. “Though I suspect I’ll have plenty to write about.”
Across the chapel, Lady Seymore approached Theodore with the satisfied expression of a woman whose schemes had worked precisely as intended.
“Well, Theodore.” Lady Seymore smiled warmly. “Congratulations are in order, I believe. You’ve done the honorable thing.”
Theodore inclined his head with minimal courtesy. “Thank you, Auntie.”
“Yes, congratulations, old friend.” John clapped him on the shoulder with enough force to make him shift slightly. “Though I must say, for a man who just got married, you look positively grim. One might think you were attending a funeral rather than your own wedding.”
Theodore’s jaw tightened. “I’m simply… aware of the circumstances that necessitated this union.”
“Circumstances or not, you’re married now.” John’s grin turned knowing. “To a beautiful, intelligent woman who clearly has the spine to stand up to you. I’d say that’s rather fortunate.”
“This isn’t a love match, Whitebrook.”
“Neither was mine at the start.” John’s expression softened with something that looked like understanding. “But look how that turned out. Sometimes the best things come from the most unexpected circumstances.”
Lady Seymore nodded sagely. “Your friend speaks wisdom, Theodore. Though I suspect you’re too stubborn to hear it.”
Theodore remained silent, his gaze drifting unbidden to where Cressida stood with Harriet, her auburn hair gleaming in the chapel light. Even from across the room, he could see the elegant line of her neck, the way her hands moved as she spoke, the intelligence that animated her features.
John followed his gaze, and his grin widened. “You know, I seem to recall you giving me some rather pointed advice when I was in a similar position. What was it you said?” He tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Ah, yes.‘Marriage is what you make of it, John. Don’t waste the opportunity by being a fool.’”
Theodore’s glare could have frozen wine. “That was different.”
“Was it?” John’s tone suggested he found this highly unlikely. “Because from where I stand, you’re about to make the same mistakes I almost made—pushing away a good woman out of pride and stubbornness.”
“I’m not pushing anyone away. I’m being realistic about the nature of this arrangement.”
“Realistic.” John shook his head. “Is that what you’re calling it?”
Lady Seymore touched Theodore’s arm gently. “My dear boy, I know you’ve been hurt. I know you carry wounds that make trusting others difficult, but perhaps this is an opportunity rather than merely an obligation.”
Theodore’s expression shuttered completely. “We should depart soon. The journey is long.”
