Dylan and his future father-in-law stared at each other for a long moment, but then the duke extended his hand. “I assume congratulations are in order, young man?”
“Yes, Your Grace.” Dylan cast a quick look at his less-than-enthusiastic fiancée. “Natalia has done me the great honor of consenting to become my wife.”
“Under the circumstances, I couldn’t be more pleased.” The duke squeezed Dylan’s hand a little more firmly than necessary. In warning, no doubt. Dylan’s respect for the man grew. He obviously cared for Natalia a great deal. She was lucky. He would do anything for a father who loved him so deeply.
The duke released Dylan’s hand and turned to his daughter. “And you, Natalia? Are you pleased?”
“Yes,” Natalia murmured. “Under the circumstances.”
Which wasn’t exactly the response Dylan had hoped for. Still, she’d agreed to become his wife. They had an entire lifetime to regain what had been lost.
“Well, come along then.” The duke seemed satisfied with her answer, which gave Dylan one less thing to worry about. Having the duke on his side meant half the battle was won. “We’ll join the duchess for dinner. I’m sure she’ll want to have her say in the wedding plans.”
* * *
Numb, Natalia followed her father and Dylan down the hall toward the dining room. Everything had happened so quickly. How could her father expect them to sit down to a celebratory dinner? Did they have to plan the wedding this very second? Couldn’t her father give her even a moment to think about all that had happened?
When the three of them entered the dining room, they found Clarice pacing. When she saw them, her face lit up and she quickly directed one of the servants to set another place. Duty done, she hurried over and gave Natalia a swift hug. “I knew you’d make the right decision. Everything will be fine. You’ll see.”
Natalia held her stepmother for a long moment and tried to draw comfort from Clarice’s faith. “I hope you’re right.”
Clarice squeezed her shoulder, then stepped away and took her place at the duke’s side. “Please, sit down. Dinner will be served in just a moment.”
With a wry smile, Dylan moved forward and offered Natalia his arm. “Shall we?”
Natalia nodded and rested her hand on her future husband’s forearm. As they walked toward the table, his muscles moved and flexed beneath her fingertips. Soon, she would have the right to touch him whenever she wanted.
The thought both frightened and tantalized her. What would it be like, to have him in her life, in her bed? Would it be worth the inevitable heartbreak? Just a few short days ago, she’d been willing to risk everything to find out.
Dylan solicitously pulled out her chair. After she sat, he took the one beside her. A million questions danced in Clarice’s bright gaze as she sat down across from Natalia. The duke took his place at the head of the table, while the servants poured the wine and served the first course—a rich turtle soup.
“Well,” Clarice began, sounding far too enthusiastic. “It seems we have a wedding to plan, don’t we?”
“We certainly do.” Dylan matched Clarice’s tone. He glanced over at Natalia. “First, we need to set a date. When do you think would be best?”
“I should think we’d like to get this over as soon as possible,” the duke replied, giving Natalia no chance to answer. “You’ll need to obtain a special license. But I don’t think that will be a problem, given my connections. How about one week from today?”
One week.Natalia hadn’t realized her father would insist upon such haste. She’d assumed once she’d made her decision, she’d have the normal amount of time to prepare for the wedding. A few months at least, during which she and Dylan could try to repair their relationship.
Dylan squeezed her hand beneath the table in an obvious attempt to offer comfort. “That’s very soon, Your Grace. Hardly time to plan a proper wedding.”
“He’s right,” Clarice chimed in. “That’s not even time to have a dress made, let alone plan a menu, order flowers, send out the invitations—”
“No need for invitations. It will be a small ceremony, just immediate family.” The duke gave Natalia an apologetic glance. “I refuse to invite anyone who will come merely to speculate.”
Dylan tightened his grip on her hand. “Natalia deserves to have the wedding of her dreams, Your Grace. I don’t want to take that away from her.”
Natalia extricated her hand. She didn’t want his comfort. “I don’t deserve any such thing.” She stirred her soup and wished the interminable supper would end. “It doesn’t matter. Next week is fine.”
The duke frowned, but since she’d gone along with his wishes, he couldn’t argue.
Clarice looked near tears. “Of course, you deserve a real wedding, darling.” She gave her husband a furious look. “I insist you allow us all the time we need.”
“No.” Natalia spoke up again, before the duke and duchess could begin a full-fledged argument. “June third is fine. As Father said, it’s best to get this whole thing over as quickly as possible.”
Dylan shifted beside her, sighing. Apparently, he didn’t like the way she spoke of their wedding—as though it were something distasteful. Something which needed to be gotten over with. She didn’t care. It served him right.
“Fine. June third, it is.” The duke turned his attention toward Dylan. “You’ll want your father and brother to come, I suppose.” His grudging tone indicated he still hadn’t forgiven Michael for refusing her.
