“As everyone keeps reminding me, but I did little except grant the man permission to marry my sister.” Aaron flexed his hand, feeling the slight ache from the bruise. “I hardly feel I should take any credit. As for being excited—you know, I’m excited to see my sister well provided for, and I daresay she shall look beautiful in her dress, but what else about a wedding is there to look forward to? You have everything under control, and there is nothing for me to do except listen.”
“There could be plenty for you to do if you had the inclination.”
“What could I do that you could not do better?” he asked, coaxing a reluctant smile from her. “I am the Duke, yes, but when it comes to weddings, I submit to your superior judgment.”
“What about your wedding?” Octavia asked pointedly. “I saw you showing Lady Roberta particular attention.”
Aaron once again traced the bruise on his hand. Lady Roberta had nothing to the shy, concealed charms of the lady he’d met in the garden. He hadn’t been able to see much of her, but she’d been remarkably pretty and with a lushness to her body he’d found himself craving. Perhaps it had been foolish to kiss her—well, there was no perhaps about it; it had definitely been foolish to kiss her—but she had been so very defiant, and he’d been a trifle boozy.
More than a trifle. He’d been drunk, and she’d known it; he’d read that awareness cross her face like a wave across sand. Kissing her had been addictive as though he couldn’t have enough of her. He’d never experienced such a heady burst of desire which had been why he hadn’t released her. And she had bitten him for it.
“Lady Roberta,” he said, forcing his mind back to the decision he’d made. “Yes… I thought she would make me a—” He let his voice trail away as he thought.Idealwas hardly the word he wanted here—Lady Roberta would make anidealnothing unless they were discussing ice sculptures. “She would make me an adequate wife,” he finished.
“An adequate wife,” Octavia repeated skeptically.
“Am I to expect more? She will do her duty admirably.”
“And you want nothing more from a wife?”
“I do not care to marry for love if that’s what you’re asking.” He shifted uncomfortably. Being in love with his wife sounded about the most unpleasant scenario he could envision; he intended to let no woman have such a hold over him. “Lady Roberta comes from good stock.”
“Good heavens,” his aunt said, her brows drawing together. “You cannot be serious.”
Aaron allowed himself a grin. “Perhaps my wording was a little unfortunate.”
“She is not a horse, Aaron, and you would do well to remember it.”
He picked up his drink and swirled it as he twinkled at her. “You mean I amnotto examine her teeth?”
“Aaron!”
“Your outrage on her behalf is commendable,” he said, taking a drink. “I’m sure, when we marry and should she ever develop a sense of humor, she will be delighted to know you have been so ardently defending her honor.”
Octavia’s face relaxed into a smile though she tried to look at him sternly. “I hope she shall put you in your place.”
“My dear aunt,” he said as though shocked, “you should know by now I have no intention of marrying a woman capable of that.”
* * *
Constance’s wedding day arrived with as much pomp and circumstance as Aaron could bear. He had almost vowed to elope when he entered his sister’s dressing room to see her in the white gauzy dress that she would be married in. Silver lace was trimmed around the bodice and about the hem, and a touch of red had been added to her lips and cheeks to bring a vibrancy to her complexion that he could not help but admire.
“You look divine, Con,” he said, kissing her cheek. “I hope you know, every man in the church will be jealous they are not up at the front with you.”
She glanced at her reflection in the mirror, her smile trembling on her lips. “I should not wish to hurt anyone.”
“Nonsense! I only meant to say you look wonderful.” Aaron took her hand. “It’s understandable that you’re nervous, but fear not—the Earl is a good man, and he will look after you.”
“I do not need looking after, Aaron,” she said, removing her hand from his.
“You are but nineteen, and my little sister to boot. In my eyes, you will always need looking after.” Aaron smiled. Constance, his little sister, was to be married. She would be provided for, he didn’t have to worry about her wellbeing as an unmarried woman any longer, and he couldn’t be prouder of her than he was now. “But I concede you are a woman now, and you can take care of yourself.”
“Then you must stop trying to care for me,” she said gently.
“Soon, I shan’t have to.”
“No,” she said, her face contemplative. “Soon, you shan’t have to. Now go—you must be seen to be at the chapel, you know.”
“Getting rid of me already?” He laughed and kissed her cheek. “The next time I shall speak to you, you shall be a married woman. If I weren’t so happy for you, I would think it absurd.”
