“People want what they cannot have, Harriet. Remember that.” Her mother dabbed at her cheeks with a handkerchief. “All you have to do is decide who you want to see you.”
Her mother’s words played in Harriet’s mind all through the night, and the morning. She ruminated on them as she was dressed. They echoed around her head as she tried, and failed, to eat.
It is easy for her to say that.Lady Devonmere was one of the most artfully graceful and elegant women Harriet knew. One could not help but look at her and want to be near her.
Yet as she drew up to the church in her carriage pulled by four white horses, and was met with a wall of cheering and whistling as the commoners gathered to celebrate her marriage, she could not help but wonder if her mother’s trick might work for her.
“Are you ready?” Catherine whispered, handing her a bouquet as they moved towards the door.
Harriet did not trust herself to speak, she simply gestured to the door and hoped Catherine would understand. She saw Fiona and Louisa helping each other with their dresses. She felt her father take her arm in his.
“It is time.”
The door to the church swung open, sunlight streamed through the stained glass windows as every head in the room turned to look at Harriet.
Her legs felt as though they were made of lead. She moved forwards, feeling herself shrink into her father, his grip tightening reassuringly.
You must let yourself shine.She saw her mother waiting for her in the front pew, her friends, her eyes drifted across them.Choose one person.
Dark blue eyes found hers. Theodore stood tall and proud, looking otherworldly as the dappled light shone on him. He was wearing a perfectly tailored set of tails that only drew attention to his powerful build.
Her mouth went dry. She focused on him like a lighthouse in the storm. Perhaps it was her imagination, but it felt like she was the only person he could see.
His eyes pulled her towards him like magnets. There was no one else in the room but them. Her mother’s trick was working. It was just her and Theodore in the aisle.
She knew it was just a fantasy, that the dark hunger she saw was just a projection. She told herself it was just in her imagination, but her body did not believe her mind.
It felt his gaze upon her like a physical touch, and by the time she had reached him at the altar, she was covered in gooseflesh. She drew level with him, and it felt as though a band had wrapped itself around them, tightening so much that she could scarcely breathe.
“Dearly beloved…” The priests voice broke the spell, and Harriet blinked, unsure if she was relieved or disappointed.
CHAPTER 8
“She is here.” There was an odd note in Percival’s voice that Theodore could not quite place.
At least, until he turned around. His eyes drifted over Lady Fiona, Lady Louisa and Duchess Catherine, he inclined his head to them as they approached. But he barely noticed them.
His eyes were for Harriet, and Harriet alone. The sunlight streaming through the church window caught in her brown hair making it look like silk. He had known she was pretty, but this was something else.
She looked like a goddess brought to life. The faint worry in her eyes made the shades of green seem to shift, like leaves in a sudden wind—then she met his gaze, and the shifting green, turned bright and warm like morning sun breaking through a forest teeming with life; a jolt ran through his body. His mouth was bone dry, the very air around him seemed to hum with anticipation, but he could not tear his eyes away.
“She is radiant.” He muttered under his breath. His stance shifted as though to move towards her. He felt a hand on his arm, and knew it was Percival.
When Harriet smiled, he thought it would split him in two. A deep, dark hunger sprang to life in his chest. He straightened, standing taller, rolling his shoulders back.
The closer she got, the more he felt like a tightly wound spring. He flexed and clenched his fingers, trying to wrestle with the beast roaring in his chest.
She was beside him. “You look beautiful.” The words seemed wholly inadequate as he said them, but she smiled.
“Thank you.” She shifted and the smell of her bouquet drifted to him, mingling with honey and cinnamon.
Dimly he realized that the priest had begun speaking and shook himself, trying to force his attention back to the man. His eyes kept drifting to Harriet.
I should have prepared for this.But how? He had not expected her to arrive looking like this. He heard the priest clear his throat and blinked as the man directed his eyes pointedly at the book of prayer.
Focus.“I will.” He felt Percival’s breath tickle his skin as he whispered into his ear.
Grateful he could not see his friend’s face, Theodore repeated the words. He felt Harriet shift beside him, heard her answer. “I will.”
