Page 28 of The Duchess He Couldn’t Resist

He wondered how many of them were married for information, or was he the first one? He had never expected the words to sound different when spoken over him. Yet they did.

“Wilt thou have this Woman to thy wedded wife, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony? Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honour, and keep her, in sickness and in health, and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?”

What a nice little trick that question was.

The ritual did not merely announce that you had accepted the person right next to you as your mate for the rest of your life. It asked you to admit it out loud in front of people. A life commitment.

He turned and glanced down at Marigold. Like a beautiful, blessed bride, she kept her eyes ahead, but Brandon noticed how carefully she was standing and how, for this brief moment, she was not breathing. Brandon knew why.

Even now, dressed in the gown that he had sent for her in the eyes of the public, the Crown, and God, Marigold braced for the worst. She thought that he would reject her, that perhaps this was an elaborate joke.

“I will,” Brandon answered.

Marigold broke her composure to look up at him as the rector posed her the same question. The thin veil covering her eyes could not hide her nerves.

“I will,” she said steadily.

If he expected the inkling of panic he felt to become a boulder of anxiety now that they had both committed to each other, somehow, he instead felt relief.

The rector took their hands, joined them together, and draped his stole over them. Even through the gloves, he could feel her cold fingers. He didn’t even realize that he was reciting his vows. And then it was her turn. As she repeated her own vows, her voice trembled only once.

A thought came rushing to him, bypassing all the hidden doors behind which he hid his thoughts. It was simple and yet monumental. This woman, Marigold, was now his.

“With this ring I thee wed…”

His voice sounded deeper. The gold band looked strangely natural against her hand. It was done. Marigold was now his duchess, and it remained to be seen if that was a good thing after all. Marigold looked up with a tense smile, perhaps wondering the same thing.

As the ceremony finished, he guided her to the exit. The small crowd that had gathered outside watched them with intrigue. Some cheered, but for others, it was just a spectacle, a way to see how the other half lived. From within the church, the Dowager Countess emerged, waving at the crowd as if she were the one they had gathered for.

Brandon avoided and ignored his mother-in-law and helped Marigold into the ducal carriage. One of the footmen rushed to help the new duchess ascend the steps, but Brandon beat him to it. He offered his hand, and she turned, almost startled, to look at him before accepting.

He climbed in after her and took his place across from her as she looked out the window.

That was when Brandon realized that he had fought men, actively sought danger, and thrown himself into the underbelly of London, but he had no idea how to talk to his wife.

CHAPTER 9

VERDANT HOUSE

Your Grace.

Right after the wedding had ended, the rector had addressed her like this. She was so used to addressing the Duke like this that for a moment she didn’t realize that he was talking to her. Because by a simple exchange of words, she was now the Duchess of Voss.

The carriage rolled through the London streets, and for one brief moment, Marigold wondered why they were taking this route then she realized that she was not going back home. This luxurious carriage was taking her to her new home.

“Your things have already been transferred,” the Duke broke the silence.

Marigold almost jumped up hearing his voice though he was sitting right across from her in this ride. She simply nodded. A few days back, before the wedding, the Duke had asked her if there were any things that she would like to be transferred from Cove Manor to his house.

As she was going through her few possessions, Marigold realized she didn’t have an awful lot of her old life that she needed moving forward. After all, in the same missive, the Duke had pointed out that there was no need for her to take anything from her old wardrobe.

She had thought to complain. She looked at the lush interior of this carriage, the dark velvet and the polished wood, even the heavy ring on her finger. She decided not to concern His Grace regarding a few gowns.

“I realize, of course,” the Duke continued, “that this is quite a change. You must be allowed a few days to settle into your new home.”

“Thank you, Your Grace,” she said.

“No need to thank me. All you need to do is rest, learn the house, and then we can talk.”