And then it was over. All that was left was the kiss. The kiss was the showstopper. The groom's show. Here was where his personality shone and he showed his love and passion for the bride. I hadn't known Ren long enough or well enough to even guess what he might do. Ham it up. Give me a quick peck. Dispense with it altogether, like he had with love?
The crowd held its breath. I stared defiantly into Ren's eyes, challenging him to make it good, whatever he did or didn't do.
"I now pronounce you husband and wife," the minister said in his booming voice. He turned to Ren uncertainly. "You may kiss the bride?"
Ren answered by pulling me into his arms and sliding one hand along the side of my face, directing my lips to his. I slipped my arms around his neck. His kiss was quick, a brief touch, a chaste tease. Before I could pull away, he kissed me again, another gentle butterfly kiss. And another, holding my lower lip between his, trying to seduce me into really kissing him back.
I closed my eyes, daring him to continue. He grazed my lower lip with his teeth. His tongue darted into my mouth and touched the tip of my tongue, teasing me again. My heart beat wildly. The fire of his touch coursed through me. Just when I was getting ready to really French him, he released me, turned, and waved to the audience.
Women were fanning themselves. Some were dabbing their eyes. I wanted to scream. The whole thing is fake. You know it is. This is clearly a marriage of convenience.
I expected censure, some disgust that we'd married each other an hour after my fiancé passed away. But Ren had won them over with a romantic kiss. Or maybe scandal was what they expected from him, and he was happy to give it to them. Real life was better than a soap opera any day.
In contrast, in the front row, my mom sat dry-eyed, carefully studying Ren like a master chess player thinking several moves ahead. Next to her, Dad looked straight ahead, probably to avoid having to talk to Mom. Next to him, my stepmom of the moment bent his ear. Dad caught my eye and gave me a questioning look, trying to determine if I was all right. I gave him the slightest nod.
Ren took my hand as the processional began to play and led me back to Manly's office to sign the marriage license with Axe and Hardly as witnesses and a policeman standing in the corner. Within minutes, it was done. My hand barely shook as I signed my name. Just a few hours later than planned, I was the Duchess of Manly.
Before either of us could speak, the officer intruded. "I'd like a word with Miss Harper, if you will."
"You mean the duchess," Ren snapped.
"My apologies, duke. Yes, with the duchess. Alone, if I may." Despite the politeness of his speech, it wasn't a request.
Ren's face was a mask. "Is this necessary, really?"
"I'm afraid it is," the officer said. "Procedure. You know how that goes. With any sudden home death, it's our duty to interview all witnesses. We've made our way through about half the guests. But I need to talk to the duchess before she mingles with the crowd."
Ren's eyes narrowed. "My bride has been through a lot today, as you can imagine. Don't keep her long." He paused. "I assume your team will be interviewing the rest of the guests during the reception and after if necessary?"
The officer nodded. "Until we have a statement from everyone."
"We have plenty of food. Tell your officers they're welcome to refreshments. From the kitchen. And cake, too, of course." Ren leaned in and whispered to me, "I'll be right outside the door waiting for you."
"I won't detain the duchess long, your grace." The officer's tone was respectful. But given the circumstances, it was impossible not to be upset.
Ren led the dukes out of the room and shut the door, leaving me alone with the officer.
"Why don't you tell me what you remember about the late duke's death this morning?"
I turned a wide-eyed look at him. "You want me to relive that now?"
He apologized. I told him everything I remembered while he took notes.
"And before the wedding this morning, did you see the late duke?"
"No. Not at all." I forced a shaky smile. "It's bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the ceremony."
The officer cleared his throat and looked uncomfortable. "When was the last time you saw him? Before the ceremony, that is."
"Last night, just before he went to bed. Then not again until I came down the stairs…" I brushed a tear away with my fingertip.
"How did he seem then?"
I shrugged. "Like any groom on the night before his wedding, I suppose. In good spirits. Tired. But Manly is always tired at that time of night. It was his bedtime."
"Nothing out of the ordinary about him? He didn't mention not feeling well? Or being unusually tired?"
I stared at the officer, not liking the implication he was making. "No. But he wouldn't. Not to me. He wouldn't have wanted me to be upset or worried the night before our wedding."
"My sympathies, duchess." He put away his notes and opened the door for me.
Ren waited in the hall.
"That's it?" I asked the officer.
"For now, yes."
Ren glared at him and dismissed him with a curt "thank you." Ren took my hand, leading me away. "Our fans await."
"You mean guests," I said as he pulled down the hall.
He gave a wry grin. "'Fans' may be too self-aggrandizing. Audience, then. We're definitely giving them a show." He glanced back at the officer.
Before we reached the reception, an official from the mortuary stopped us. "Duke, we're ready to take the late duke's body. We just need a signature." He held out an electronic device for Ren to sign.
A signature to marry. A signature to bury. At least the funeral home had moved into the twenty-first century and was electronic. Ren signed quickly, thanked the official, whispered something to him, and pulled me away. I was relieved. I didn't want to spend my wedding reception with Manly lying dead in another room.
Ren pulled me quickly through the hallway. On the edge of the great hall, he came to an abrupt stop. He turned to me. "Give my vanity a break and smile. Marrying me can't be that revolting."
"What? You want me to stop looking like somebody died?" I rolled my eyes back toward the police officers crawling around the castle. "Do you think that's wise?"
His expression softened. "I'd like you to stop looking like you've just been given a death sentence."
"Haven't I?" I said. "Oh, wait. It's only a year. With no time off for good behavior."
"That's the spirit." He lifted his chin toward the room in front of us. "They'll expect at least one of us to say something about what just happened. About Uncle. About this, us."
I shook my head. "I can't."
"Leave it to me." He glanced ahead into the room. "Play along."
Without waiting for me to reply, he caught me beneath the knees and carried me across the threshold, whispering, "This is the best I can do. Unless you want me to carry you outside and back in?"
I couldn't help myself. The corners of my mouth turned up ever so slightly. "Carry on."
As he walked into the room with me in his arms, the musicians stopped playing. Everyone stopped talking. All eyes turned to us.
One of the members of the string quartet announced, "Ladies and gentlemen—the new Duke and Duchess of Manly."
The room erupted in polite applause. Again, Ren's romantic gesture seemed to win him points with the ladies, at least. He carried me to the head table, deposited me on my feet, and bowed to his adoring, yet suspicious, fans. As he held my chair, I realized just how much people love train wrecks, tragedy, and scandal. This would be a wedding no one would forget.
Ren remained on his feet. There was a mic on the table. He picked it up and waited for the screech of feedback to stop. "Family and friends, first of all, Bliss asked me to thank you for coming to share in the joy of both of her weddings today." He put his hand on my shoulder. Such a touching show of support.
Damn him. He was charming even now in the face of all this.
There was
nervous laughter, the kind of sound people make when they find something amusing and know they shouldn't.
"Personally, I would like to thank you for staying for my wedding when even I wasn't sure I would." He shot me a quick look. "My beautiful bride seems to have a fatal effect on grooms. But there was the promise of food after."
The atmosphere relaxed further, and there were more people laughing behind their hands and trying to look solemn.
He squeezed my shoulder.
I played along and reached up to clasp his hand.
Ren smiled down at me. "I think we can all forgive Bliss for being choked up right now and letting me speak for her. As far as wedding disasters go, Bliss has been through an ordeal like no other. There's no way to joke about what happened. My uncle would have made her a kind and doting husband. Now she'll have to put up with me." The smile he gave me was dark and dazzling, an inside joke. "I'll do my best to take his place." He looked me in the eye as he bent and kissed my hand.
Kissing my hand was an affectionate gesture, but I felt the gentle brush of his lips like the scorch of a brand. I forced a shaky smile at him and dropped my hand to my lap, reminding myself that the kind of charisma Ren had was dangerous. He couldn't be trusted. Not with my heart. Not with my life.
"This is a wedding celebration, but first, I'd like to take a few minutes to remember my uncle. This should have been his celebration. His wedding. His milestone birthday." Ren paused for dramatic effect.
"My uncle was a character, but he was a man of depth and, despite all the rumors, heart and kindness. In my earliest memory of him, Papa brought Will and me from London to visit Uncle here at the castle. I was about four and impressed, as small boys are, by the sheer size of the castle. By the suits of armor, the stuffed hunting trophies on the wall, all the paintings of ancestors looking sternly down at us. So much space to run and play.
"Uncle didn't reprimand Will and me as we charged about the place. Soon he and Papa left us to our own devices. Somehow, I ended up here in this room with a permanent marker and the desire to leave my portrait on the wall, too."
He had the audience on the edge of their seats, holding their breath.
"Have permanent marker, will draw. I was fortunate Uncle found me before Papa did, or I still might not be sitting to this day." He turned and took a quick step behind him. "You'll notice this plaque is hanging at an odd spot." He quickly pulled it off its hook and pointed. "Still here."
Children's scribbles and a drawing of a person with a large head, round eyes, a wobbly smile, and arms and legs coming right out of the head, circles for hands and feet, a shock of hair, and no body.
"I give you Ren, self-portrait, age four." He stepped back to show off his work. "I was afraid of Uncle. I expected him to turn me in to Papa. Or maybe eat me."
People laughed.
"But Uncle gently took the marker away, stood back, and studied my handiwork for a moment while I trembled, waiting to be punished. To my surprise, he laughed and smiled at me. 'Nice likeness, Ren,' he said in all seriousness. He handed me the marker. 'Sign your name. Every artist should own their work.'" Ren pointed again. "Here's my signature."
Some of the women dabbed their eyes.
"Uncle took me by the hand and took me back to Papa without ever mentioning my wall art. As far as I know, he never even attempted to clean my scribbles off. Papa went to his grave not knowing what I'd done. Until now, those drawings were our secret."
I heard sniffles. I was teary-eyed myself.
"That was the kind of man my uncle was, and why Bliss and I have married. Today is Uncle's one hundredth birthday. Remember him well. May I live up to the example he set." Ren poured himself a glass of wine and raised it. "To my uncle, the late Duke of Manly, may he rest in peace."
"To the late duke," the guests echoed.
"Because of the sad circumstances, Bliss and I have decided to dispense with the usual wedding reception traditions. We'll be serving the combined wedding/birthday cake, but Bliss and I won't be cutting the first slice and feeding each other a bite. I'm not going to toss her garter. She won't throw the bouquet. No receiving line, but we'll try to get around and say a few words to each of you.
"Uncle believed in treating his guests well. And you all know how much he loved a good party. Please, eat and enjoy yourselves. Be happy for us and remember him well."
Chapter 9
Not in a millennium would I have imagined my wedding reception would also be a wake. Surely people died at weddings from time to time. Death came when it wanted, unconcerned with the occasion it interrupted. But there was no precedent for our situation. No Miss Manners to refer to, only common sense and decency. My reaction, my desire, was to go to a quiet place and collect myself. How much more of this could I take?
The waiters began serving the plated brunch, beginning with us. Ren made a point of taking a bite immediately. I had no appetite.
He nudged me and whispered, "Eat. The guests are waiting for you. You'll need your strength later."
My body reacted to his innuendo treacherously. My heart raced. My body tingled at the thought of his touch. I'd wanted to sleep with him since the moment I met him. But now I was conflicted. I barely knew Ren. He was my husband, not a one-night hookup. And Manly had just died. I clenched my legs together and forced a bite of food down.
The guests took my cue. Soon the room buzzed with gentle conversation and the clinking of utensils against plates. Police officers quietly took one guest after another aside to question.
Ren took a few more bites while I sat beside him. We were objects of curiosity—morbid curiosity, idle curiosity, wicked curiosity. I didn't understand the meaning behind all the looks I was getting. I wondered what some of them were telling the overly curious police. If I'd had more of my wits about me, I would have kept track of who was friend and who was foe. It was clear some of the guests were malevolent and others sympathetic. I balled my fists in my lap, trying to breathe and suppress the urge to run from the room, run right down the road and out of this place and this life.
Ren sensed my distress. He set his fork down and grabbed my hand. "Time for us to mingle. Our guests will want to congratulate us and give us their condolences. I promised."
Give us their condolences was an odd phrase to hear at my wedding reception. Other than old ball-and-chain jokes or condolences on putting the single life behind me. If I hadn't been so shocked and worn out, I might have resisted. But I was made of stronger stuff, and Ren obviously had good people sense. He was right. We had to mingle. It was expected. It was the only chance we had of stifling the gossip. But it was an odd tightrope we walked with the police interspersed and watching our every move. Manly had died of natural causes, so why were they watching us with such suspicion? If we were too happy, did that convict us of a crime that didn't exist?
I nodded. Ren held his hand out to me and helped me out of my chair.
The parade began. We started with my dad and stepmom. Ren flattered my stepmom and reassured my dad, somehow winning him over with his false reassurances. Dad hugged me and whispered in my ear, "At least you got a young one." He sounded relieved, maybe even happy. Was that all that mattered in a husband? Or was that the silver lining?
And then he was like the dad I knew and loved. "But if you still want me to help you escape, I know a back way out past the cops."
I kissed him. "I'm fine. I think I'll stay."
"Good choice."
Mom was not as easy to fool or flatter. She was still regarding Ren with that chess-master look of hers. She hugged and kissed us both, making a good public show of it. But when Ren moved to the next table, she pulled me aside. "You'll permit me a few moments with my daughter."
There wasn't much Ren could say. "Of course."
Mom touched my face and smiled into my eyes, but hers would hard and calculating. "Nice move, darling. You'll have much more fun with this one." She glanced at Ren. "You mentioned the prenup in your text?"
"Everything's
the same," I said. "Exactly the same terms as with Manly. Brand-new paperwork. But the same."
"Manly had papers drawn up?" Her eyes narrowed. "The old man planned for this." She couldn't have sounded more suspicious if she'd tried.
I couldn't tell whether she was pleased or displeased. "He planned for every contingency."
"Well, then," she said. "We'll make the best of it. My investment is secure, as is your future." She glanced at Ren again as he charmed another table full of guests. "He's hot and charismatic. A dangerous combination. Rumors abound. Make the best of it, Bliss. But be careful and on your guard. This marriage doesn't have to be long. If you ever feel threatened or unsafe, leave. Run. Do whatever you have to. As pretty as he is, he's rumored to have a dark side."
I shrugged. "You've been listening to gossip. The marriage has to last a year. And it will."
"And not a day longer," she said. "Less if needed. Trust your mama, baby girl. If he gets out of hand, I'll handle him and the details. I promised you your marriage to Manly would be short." She snorted. "This one needn't be long, either. I'll make sure of that."
Ren caught my eye.
With her warning ringing in my ears, I hugged Mom. "I have to go. My guests expect me to go around with my groom."
Ren was talking with Lady Ellen when I caught up with him. I heard just a snippet of their conversation.
"Be careful, Ren," she said. "You don't have many friends here."
Their conversation came to an abrupt halt when I came up. Lady Ellen recovered quickly. She smiled graciously at me, hugged me, and wished me well. But I felt the chill of her warning to my bones.
The rest of the reception was a surreal blend of grief and hope. People expressing their condolences and, in the next breath, wishing us a long and happy life together. Could they really believe that was possible? Is that just what you said at weddings? Could no one be more original? I was almost disappointed everyone was so damned polite.
Duked: Duke One, Duke Society Series Page 8
