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CHAPTER9
Columbine was held onto tightly as Artie brought in the basket, and Verity ruthlessly thrust her inside with her two kittens that Artie had been desperately searching for. The kittens, a ginger-and-white tom, was named Pantaloon, and his tabby-and-white sister was Pierette. Columbine had turned up, given birth, and had been part of their little household ever since.
Verity had been heating water, because whether he liked it or not, Artie was going to the church with her, and he would be clean. Artie was not fond of bathing, but Verity suspected he tolerated it because he loved her and knew she could not stand ingrained dirt. So he allowed her to scrub him in the tin bath, and to wash and tie back his hair. Then he dressed in his Sunday best, which was a concept Verity had introduced him to. More water was heated, and the cats yowled, complaining of being shut in the basket and being unable to get out.
Matilda, her little maid-of-all-work, who lived a few cottages away, arrived to help her mistress get ready for the ceremony. She had brought her own clothes packed with her to change into before the wedding, as she would be Lady Verity’s only bridal attendant. Verity planned to ask the duke if Matilda could have a place at the hall, as she was desperate to escape her home and most especially her brutish stepfather. Matilda stoked up the stove and got her mistress’s bath ready.
When Verity had been buttoned into her new gown, Matilda arranged her hair and affixed the lace veil, then quickly changed into her best dress and tidied her own hair, with Verity’s help, as they heard the carriage pull up outside.
The driver seemed somewhat bemused to find Artie loading up the boot of the carriage with a variety of luggage. Verity was too on-edge and nervous to tell him to leave it alone. A liveried footman assisted Artie in his endeavor. Then the basket of cats was placed inside, and Artie took in the bouquet, posy, and garland of flowers that he had made for Verity.
“These are for you,” he said softly.
“Thank you, Artie.”
Stooping, she kissed his cheek and he blushed.
“Are you nervous?”
“A bit,” she admitted.
“Me too. I have me dagger,” he said a bit fretfully.
Verity laughed, dispelling some of the tension that had knotted her belly. With the garland carefully pinned atop her veil and carrying her bouquet, she was handed into the carriage. Matilda followed carefully, clutching her posy as Artie added her bundle of clothing to the luggage in the boot, along with Verity’s and his own. Then he scampered up on the box beside the carriage driver.
If only you could have seen this Catherine. Yet she was aware had her sister not abandoned little Thomas, Verity would not be becoming a duchess now.
Many people had come out of the nearby cottages to gawp at the carriage, which had been decorated with bunches of white ribbon, and Verity dressed in her finery and heading for the church. Some of the children waved and whistled, and Verity waved graciously back. The drive through the town brought out more onlookers, as the duke’s carriage with his escutcheon had not been seen around for a long time. When they realized Artie was on the box and Lady Verity within the coach, they stared and doffed their caps. The carriage driver slowed, clearly enjoying being part of the spectacle.
They climbed the small incline to the parish church, where several other carriages and conveyances had been parked. The sun came out from behind the clouds, and Verity gasped, realizing that the church was not empty and that her father’s carriage was prominent amongst those parked.
“Oh, Papa,” she whispered. Of course, they would have come. Given that she was not yet one-and-twenty, her father’s consent was needed. She breathed in deeply, hoping that her father was pleased with the news and would not try and stop the wedding.
Then the carriage came to a halt and the footman descended to let her down. Verity elegantly exited and straightened her back—she would face whatever was ahead with a smile on her face, and she would not show anxiety even to her father. Artie jumped down and followed her into the church carrying the basket of cats, who seemed to have accepted their lot and were now quiet, perhaps asleep.
As she neared the steps to the church, the bells rang out, announcing her arrival to the small town. And there, standing on the porch looking smug and beaming at her, was her father. Verity was secretly amused. One would think that he had never said all those harsh words to her for standing by her sister. Her father was holding out his arm for her to take, and she smiled and took his arm.
He hesitated a bit then said, “You look beautiful, my dear, and have made your mother and me so proud.”
“Are you?” she murmured, biting back the harsher reply.
“Yes.” Her father inhaled. “The duke is already waiting and prowling the church,” he said, patting her hand.
Then the organ struck up a march, and her father led her in a stately stroll up the aisle to where her husband-to-be awaited her. The duke fairly stole her breath with his handsomeness. He surveyed the crowded church, a cold disinterest in his eyes, his manner of an overlord watching his subjects. Then his gaze touched upon her and she almost faltered. Verity most certainly blushed. The duke’s regard was carnal and thorough. His sensuality was a palpable force for everyone to see and speculate. His regard was rousing and provoking.
Please do not look at me so, she silently cried.
Her breath rasped and her heart pounded. Beside her, her father, who must have correctly interpreted the duke’s scandalous stare, cleared his throat a bit nervously. Her cheeks heated even more, and then to her surprise, she found her mouth curving into a smile.
The duke was shameless.
* * *
Ethan swallowedas he stared at the beautiful, dignified woman parading down the aisle on her father’s arm. A peculiar longing rose inside of him, shocking him with its intensity. He had never been more certain that his hasty decision to marry Lady Verity was the only logical thing to do. His reaction to her was rather interesting. His bloody heart damn well pounded, as sensations never before felt whispered through it.
She looked away from him, and her gaze touched upon the decorations and several people crammed into the pews. His mother, who had almost fainted at the news he was to be married, sat in the front seats, next to Verity’s mother and the nursemaid holding Thomas. The baby was beautifully arrayed in the family’s Bruges lace and embroidered satin christening gown that Ethan himself had worn.
Despite the small representation of their families, the church was full. It seemed that everyone who thought they were anyone in the area had turned out to witness the wedding of the duke and one of the earl’s disgraced daughters. Ethan had thrown money about, as the church was bestowed with flowers of all kinds and colors in a riotous display of affluence and nature’s glory. The sweet fragrances of the flowers blended with the wafted incense that the bishop’s acolytes had been swinging around the church. Ethan considered it excessive, but the bishop was convinced that the duke’s marriage should have all the pomp and circumstance he could provide. Ethan believed the wicked old man enjoyed himself and played his part to the rafters.
