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“Nathaniel would not want someone to marry his sister who does not love her,” Richard explained. “If he could see you now, he would understand that you cared deeply for her. He would bless this wedding.”

I do care for Eleanor completely. I want to protect her, but how do I protect myself?

Some of that, though, hardened him, while some burdened him. He cared for the woman he was about to wed, and that could only be a good thing. Yet, caring for her opened him up to hurt.

Gabriel didn’t need to tell his uncle that. Richard knew the hurt his brother had gone through when Gabriel’s mother had passed. They had both seen the pain. Yet, Richard didn’t seem to believe history would repeat itself. He wasn’t worried for Gabriel.

The music by the door changed a little in tempo and volume, and Gabriel didn’t have a chance to ponder any longer. As soon as Eleanor entered the chapel, he forgot all about his fears and worries.

She wore a long cream dress embroidered with flowers at the hem around her ankles and the cuffs around her wrists. The neckline was high, but not so high that it pinched her neck. Eleanor had her hair tied up with ringlets of blonde cascading down the back of her neck. A crown of flowers adorned the top of her head.

Gabriel had thought many times about undressing Eleanor and claiming her body, or been unable to resist the urges she commanded in him, but not that day. He did not look upon her with lust, but something deeper.

She was beautiful, and not just alluring. He didn’t look upon her and think about what was beneath the clothing; he looked upon her and admired her. He looked upon her and thought: There is my wife.

Eleanor seemed to float up the aisle between the pews, the curves beneath the dress accentuating her look. The smile playing on her lips told him that she wanted to be there. Gabriel had made the choice for her, a choice that would dictate the rest of her life, and she had accepted it. That day, she looked as if she was enjoying it.

They locked eyes and held each other’s gaze until Eleanor reached the front of the chapel. Only when she got there did he see that her mother walked beside her in place of her late father and Nathaniel, who was still overseas.

“You look beautiful,” Gabriel told her.

“Thank you,” Eleanor said softly. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

Gabriel chuckled. He held out his hand, and Eleanor took it, taking her place by his side. Richard and Margaret retreated to their seats on either side of the chapel.

“This is your last chance to back out,” Eleanor told him.

“I have no intention of doing that,” Gabriel said.

The look was back in her eyes, and Gabriel couldn’t quite decipher what was behind it. There was an intent of emotion. Gabriel knew a number of thoughts would be running through her mind after what had happened and was now happening, and it would take time for her to deal with it. He would give her the space and support to do so.

“I’m glad,” Eleanor admitted. “It wouldn’t be a good look to have my future husband running out on me on my wedding day. I might never live that down.”

“I’m not the running-away type,” Gabriel told her. “When I commit to something, I follow it through. I intend to do this properly.”

“Properly,” Eleanor repeated; it was not a question.

The music by the door stopped, and a gentle murmur rose across the gathered guests briefly before dying down into silence. Eleanor and Gabriel stood staring at each other.

To the congregated guests, the couple might have looked like they were staring lovingly at each other.

Gabriel was in love with her, but he did not know if that love was returned. He had feared for so long that he would end up like his father, a man who had loved too deeply and was then transformed into a cold beast after losing that love. Gabriel feared that he would not lose that love but never gain it in the first place. The thought was terrifying.

The minister came to the front and went to the couple, placing a hand on both of their shoulders and blessing them with a silently muttered prayer.

Then, he formally welcomed the guests to the chapel. After the introductions, the minister began the service.

Gabriel didn’t care how he looked to society, and he had an inkling, bolstered by what he had told Eleanor two days earlier, that she didn’t care much either.

Still, he knew they made a wonderful couple, at least from the outside. Eleanor looked resplendent, and he cut a fine shape in his jet-black tailcoat and trousers, charcoal boots, crisp cream shirt, and top hat.

They were grand, they were elegant, and they were flawless; they were everything society could have hoped for. That would amaze some, awe inspire others, and make a subset of the population jealous. Some would want the couple to fail, if only to make themselves feel better, and give them something to talk about.

Again, Gabriel didn’t care, but he cared enough about Eleanor not to let anyone speak about her. He had married her to protect her reputation, and he would continue to do so.

There were no individual vows. The minister went through the wedding formalities, and the couple repeated his words when it was time. Silence filled the chapel, as if everyone held their breath until the couple was married.

The ceremony was much the same as many the duke had attended, but that was expected. That was the formal portion of the wedding. He was glad that Eleanor had asked for a bigger celebration afterward. Gabriel didn’t need that, but society would talk if they didn’t have it.