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“Anthony, I fear you have gone almost entirely mad!” Jonathan announced as he pulled back to hold the duke at arm’s length, looking him deeply in the eye as he added, “When I received word yesterday, I thought I might come today to find you sitting in a corner drooling, rocking back and forth as though you had lost all your wits!”
Anthony couldn’t help laughing at his friend’s description. The man had always had a way with words, able to conjure up a picture in even the most unimaginative of minds. The blond-haired, blue-eyed, energetic, and over-the-top gentleman, couldn’t have been more different to Anthony with his countenance to worry and his grim façade, and yet the two had been close friends for just as long as Anthony could remember.
“I am so glad you could make it in time,” Anthony insisted, clapping his friend on the shoulder and giving him a brief squeeze, offering his gratitude at his friend’s being there with a silent gaze.
“You must be quite mad if you believe I would miss the wedding of my dearest and closest friend!” Jonathan insisted, and he glanced at Anthony’s sisters in order to add, “Besides, I could never miss the chance to see these two beautiful souls either.”
“Oh, Jonathan, you are ever the charmer!” Emily purred back at him, tapping him on the elbow in a quiet gesture for him to stop flattering them.
They had barely finished greeting each other by the time the butler returned once more to announce the vicar's arrival. Anthony had met the man only a handful of times since his becoming duke, but it didn’t take much to notice that the vicar was displeased about having his plans changed at the very last minute.
Though he had been booked for the ceremony a few weeks from now, the vicar clearly hadn’t been prepared for the change. Old and grouchy, Anthony suspected that he would much rather have been tending the churchyard flowers than reading the wedding rights through spectacles that slipped down the end of his crooked nose.
“Lord Chatham, Lady Elizabeth, Lady Emily,” the vicar greeted them all, bowing in the doorway before looking to Jonathan Sweetings as if he expected an introduction.
“Father Reddine, please allow me to introduce you to my close friend, Mr Jonathan Sweetings,” Anthony announced, gesturing between the two men.
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr Sweetings,” Father Reddine told the gentleman, bowing his head in greeting. He pushed his spectacles up the bridge of his nose and turned expectantly to the duke, “Are we to wait for the young lady? I see that she is not yet here.”
He glanced around the room almost as if he expected Lady Rose to appear from out of nowhere, ready and waiting to be wed. Out of nerves, Anthony found himself glancing around the room, half expecting that he might have missed her entrance.
“I am sure that Lady St Clair will join us shortly,” Elizabeth assured the vicar. “Though while we wait, can I offer you some refreshments, Father?”
Anthony offered his sister a grateful look as she began to lead the vicar over to a small refreshments table erected just through the archway leading into the adjoining parlour. The duke’s gaze followed the vicar and his sister, admiring once more the miraculous job that Mrs Cartwright and the maids had done early that morning to prepare the room for the ceremony. Somehow, the housekeeper had worked magic to decorate the space with garlands, buntings, and flowers.
I must think of some way to thank her,Anthony thought, knowing the housekeeper had insisted she make Lady Rose’s day as special as possible given the circumstances.She deserves a medal.
“Lords and ladies,” Mr Cartwright’s voice startled Anthony once more, and he quickly realised that several moments had passed with the vicar and his sister returning to his side. All turned to look at the doorway just as Mr Cartwright announced, “The bride has arrived.”
Just like that Anthony realised it was entirely too late to turn back now. Waiting just outside the door was the woman who would shortly become his wife. He could practically smell her, lavender and chamomile wafting through the open doorway.
Father Reddine quickly moved to stand at the head of the room, and Anthony’s stomach threatened to turn to water as his sisters and his closest friend left his side to stand well out of the way, watching from a distance as Lady Rose stepped into the room.
Though a lace veil covered her face, it was just thin enough for him to make out the outline of her face, the darkness of her eyelashes, and the redness of her lips. It was enough for him to see the gleam of her blue-green eyes as she swept down the room towards him with a bouquet of white roses and blue forget-me-nots in her hands.
He couldn’t be sure, but he sensed that perhaps she might have been weeping. Alarmed, Anthony wondered whether he should stop anything from going any further or take her to one side and ensure that everything was alright before allowing the vicar to proceed.
Yet as she wandered down the room, the white satin gown clinging to every curve of her body, he realised that he couldn’t bring himself to speak up. If he allowed her the opportunity to end the wedding, he might very well lose any chance of happiness he had left.
Just get through this morning, and then we can face what comes next together,he decided, only praying that Lady Rose would feel the same. He was all too aware that she could change her mind at any moment and run right out of the room before they could complete the ceremony.
Even a week ago, he would have thanked her for it, but as they stood together now, face to face save for the thin veil still lowered between them, he couldn’t think of anything worse than the thought of watching her flee from him.
I do not even know the woman!he told himself, yet somehow, he felt as though he was exactly where he was meant to be, and so he smiled, offering the lady his hand, hoping against hope that all would be well.
He was slightly surprised when Lady Rose moved her bouquet into one hand and offered her free one to him. Holding her hand in both of his, he squeezed her fingers reassuringly and mouthed, “All will be well,” as Father Reddine began to speak the opening words of the ceremony.
Chapter 14
It was more than a little confusing to Penelope that she could possibly be married and yet feel no different than she had the night before. Nothing had changed; she was still Penelope, not that anyone beneath the duke’s roof knew that. Yet she knew it and was determined to stay as true to herself as she could as she allowed Holden to help her undress that night.
“Try not to be nervous, My Lady,” Holden told her as she unlaced the back of her gown, allowing the satin material to slip down over her shoulders. “I hear that all young women are nervous on their wedding night, but almost none of them regret it.”
Because they aren’t allowed to regret it,Penelope thought, remembering all too well all the things she had heard over the years in the kitchens of the St Clair household. Between all the young maids passing through the house and the ladies’ maids travelling through along with their ladies staying as the Comte’s guests, she was all too aware of what happened on a woman’s wedding night.
She had heard of the lust and desire that had led to pleasure for the husband and pain for the wife, leading all too assuredly towards being with child.
It was the one thing that she hadn’t even begun to think of until when Mr Sweetings announced he would be leaving so that the new husband and his wife could retire to their marital bed for the night. Yet the moment she had heard his words, Penelope had almost blacked out with terror.
