“Nervous?” his friend asked.
“No.” The word came too quickly, and they both knew he was lying.
Only Sebastian knew he wasn’t nervous about the wedding. He was nervous about what would come later.
Dax crossed his arms over his chest. “Have you changed your mind?”
He had seen his friend give similar dour looks to any number of lesser men, and it irked Sebastian.
“Of course, I haven’t. Are you mad?”
Dax’s expression softened somewhat, but he did not uncross his arms. “You know you’ve put me in a ridiculous position. You’re my best friend, and she’s my wife’s sister. I’m trying to protect both sides here, and it’s impossible.”
Sebastian was surprised to feel a smile prodding at his lips. “I do apologize for that. I really didn’t think this through, I’m afraid.”
Dax’s eyes flashed, and Sebastian knew he’d let something valuable slip. Namely, that he hadn’t planned on this hasty wedding to Louisa Darby. The two men eyed each other, but Sebastian would not relent. He’d lived through far more scrutiny than the stare of his friend, and he would survive this.
But he needn’t have worried for at that moment his bride arrived. When one usually pictures a day as special and life-changing as a wedding, one pictures elegance and grace, he would have presumed. This was not the manner in which the Darby sisters arrived.
Their carriage pulled to a stop at the foot of the church steps and through the slightly parted doors he witnessed Ravenwood squeeze his way out of the carriage door and nearly topple to the pavement at his feet. A cacophony of gibberish followed the man like a noisy accompaniment, and both Sebastian and Dax leaned involuntarily away from it. Ravenwood righted his jacket and, without looking back or acknowledging the disruption behind him, took the church stairs evenly and sedately. When he reached the two men waiting there, he smiled politely and moved on, sinking into a pew at the back of the church where he remained, unspeaking and unmoving.
“You know Viv wants to marry off his sisters so the man can get on with his own life?” Dax spoke softly.
Sebastian couldn’t help a sad shake of his head as he considered the man’s slumped shoulders. “I fear it may be too late.”
Both men tensed as footsteps sounded on the stairs behind them, but Sebastian was grateful to see Eliza coming into the church, a soft smile gracing her features.
He’d expected a congratulatory remark but instead she bundled them both in the direction of the altar.
“Come now. Mustn’t tarry.” She ushered them with a singular focus, and for the first time, Sebastian understood why Louisa compared him to this sister.
He was already standing at the front of the church before he realized he, too, was smiling. Perhaps circumstances would not turn out as dire as he suspected they might be.
But then Louisa appeared, and there was some sort of organ music somewhere, and he forgot entirely any resolutions he may have had.
She was stunning.
He already knew she could take his breath away, and while he knew to expect it, he was not at all prepared for this. She wore a gown of such brilliant white silk it conveyed a sheen of almost ice blue. It was covered in droplets of small white flowers embroidered in lines along the skirt, hems, and cuffs, so she appeared like some ethereal creature stepped from the pages of a fairy tale. Her golden hair was swept up in a cascade of curls at the back of her head, tucked neatly beneath a small blue and white cap that perfectly accentuated her gown, tiers of veils falling to either side of her face.
The rest of the ceremony he could tell anyone very little about but what Louisa looked like, that—that he knew by reading the memory it had stamped on his heart.
By the time she reached his side, he was certain he was completely deprived of oxygen, and at any moment, his head would strike the floor as he fainted. But by God, that didn’t happen, and he was just as surprised as anyone.
The clergyman—he could not have said if he were a vicar, a pastor, or a reverend as he both did not attend service nor did he have any wits left about him at the sight of his betrothed in her wedding ensemble—began to intone flowery words of either patterned nonsense or perhaps some kind of religious scripture. Sebastian paid very little attention.
The nerves that were so tightly strung at the beginning of the day were now wound tighter than he’d ever endured before then. But this was a different kind of torture.
The beautiful woman beside him—he knew the taste of her kiss, the feel of her soft skin beneath his fingertips, the way she fit against him, and the most precious part—the sound of her moaning his name.
He knew everything about her he never wished to know of a woman. He swore he would never make the same mistakes as his father, and now here he was, dancing the dangerous line of emotional torture, and he feared more than ever that he just might fall in love with Louisa Darby.
Nay, Louisa Fielding. Had they gotten to that part yet? He wasn’t paying attention.
“And do you, Sebastian Fielding, Duke of Waverly, take thee, Lady Louisa, as thy loyal wife, to love more than all, to cherish without end, for better or for worse, in all manner of health until death should part you?”
It wasn’t until Louisa nudged him in the ribs that he realized he was meant to say something.
“Yes.” The word spilled from his lips with greater force than he had meant it to, but he was fairly sure he’d gotten his point across.
Louisa twitched beside him.
“Yes?” The vicar or whatever he was raised an eyebrow. “Are you consenting to wed Lady Louisa?”
“Yes, that’s what I just indicated. Did you not hear it?” Sebastian eyed the clergyman with growing suspicion. He had left the matters of the wedding to Louisa and her sisters for he had little care for it, but now he wondered if she had selected a qualified authority to marry them.
“You are to speak the words I do, Your Grace.” The clergyman made a sweeping motion with his hand as if to indicate Sebastian should attempt the turn of phrase.
“Why?” A collective gasp of speculation rippled through the pews behind him, but he could only study the small man draped in cloth before him.
He’d already consented to the pledge. What more did the clergyman need from him?
Louisa twitched again, and he glanced to see if she were all right.
He could recall only too clearly the words she’d flung at him that night on the terrace. To treat her with a measure of decency. He treated her far better than he had anyone else, but perhaps that was not enough for her. He would do well to remember that when he felt himself drawing too close to her. However, he worried how it squeezed his chest to think he’d upset her.
But his eyes did not find a disappointed Louisa. Instead they found her attempting to hold back laughter.
“It’s customary that the groom speak those words,” the clergyman went on.
Sebastian wished to continue studying Louisa and the mirth he seemed to have caused her, but the clergyman was being so terribly insistent.
Sebastian turned back to the vicar. “Hang custom. I spoke my oath. Let us move on.”
The gasps behind him turned to startled inhalations he was sure could be heard as far as Kensington Palace. Notably, the Duchess of Margate’s exclamation he heard clearly as she muttered it just behind him, and now, he, too, felt the tickle of laughter at their situation.
Damn the woman anyway. He was tired of her high-handedness when it came to Louisa. Did his wife get no say at all in that which she wished for most?
He didn’t know what that was, but he knew only too well now that she did what was best for her sisters, never thinking of herself. He wondered why he suddenly wanted to change that.
“Uh, very good then, sir. I—I—I mean, Your Grace.” The vicar’s hands shook on the Bible he held between them as he scrambled to find his place.
Louisa spoke, and Sebastian said some more things he’d never remember, and through the whole of
it the tension in his chest grew until he thought he could no longer draw breath. This was ludicrous. He knew he was stronger than this. He knew a formality like marriage could never turn him into his father. It was only a subject of contracts. He agreed to some things while the Duke of Ravenwood had agreed to others.
There was no need to entangle matters of the heart. There was no place for them in marriage.
So why, when Louisa turned to him, her chin turned up, her lips ready for his kiss that would seal the oaths they had just spoken to each other, did his chest flood with a warmth he’d never felt, his arms loosen as though they might fly away, his mind fall into a peaceful silence filled only with the need to kiss his new wife?
So he did.
He pressed his lips to hers far more chastely than that night on the terrace, but even then, he couldn’t stop the feeling that the world was closing in around him.
Chapter 5
It felt more like she was trapped rather than celebrating.
The wedding breakfast Viv had insisted having at Ravenwood House was likely a more coveted invitation than the one for their betrothal ball had been. The drawing rooms overflowed, and every piece of china was put to service, every piece of linen employed. Viv was elated. Louisa wanted nothing more than to escape.
Finally, she had decided it was too much and slipped away for just a moment, hiding in one of the retiring rooms and soundly locking the door. Here she could rub at her throbbing temples where prying eyes wouldn’t wonder if she were feeling ill because she was with child. Was that why she was marrying the Beastly Duke? Or perhaps they would attribute her condition to realizing the gross unfairness of her fate?
Either of those options were ridiculous, and they only served to add to the mix of emotions that swirled through her.
She wasn’t sure how long she sat there, picking apart her feelings one by one. There was the immediate overwhelming sense of the day. There were so many people, so many curious stares, so many people she had only known the names of who were suddenly interested in her well-being because she was marrying Sebastian. This only served to irritate her.
As she had never been fond of crowds before, today’s turnout left her drained and wary. She was securely wed to Sebastian now, and for that she was grateful. Perhaps she could finally put her latest folly behind her. Jo was safe, her reputation untarnished. No one could ever find fault with the Ravenwood name now that Louisa and Sebastian were wed. Still, it left her feeling unsettled and cautious. She knew the power of the ton, had witnessed it in Eliza’s own exile to the fringes of society based simply on her appearance. Her worry for Jo would never cease. Louisa knew that.
The thing that plagued her most, however, was her own dear husband. He hadn’t called on her, and they hadn’t spoken to each other since the night of their betrothal ball when he had thoroughly ravished her more than a week previous. That night stood out in the parade of nights in all of her twenty-odd years as a shining anomaly she would never forget. She hadn’t known what her own body was capable of, true, but more, she could not have expected Sebastian would be such a skilled lover.
The thought still had her reeling whenever she mulled over it. The man was so hard and cold, so austere and silent. Who would have guessed he could kiss with such passion? Hold her with such care? Pleasure her with such preciseness?
The physical aspect of the night, while unexpected, was not what left her in such confusion. It was the look in Sebastian’s eyes right before he ran away. The Beastly Duke was not one known for cowardice, but something that night had frightened him. For a week, she had fumed and paced, worried he would call off the match regardless of the comprising position in which they had been discovered. For a week, she ruminated over what could have possibly caused that look in his eyes, what could have made him run.
Through the whole of this, she had simply believed herself to be the one at fault. She was the one who had trapped him, and the guilt laid on her so thick and heavy she worried if she’d ever find relief. But after that night, she didn’t believe her own guilt any longer. Sebastian had proven all was not how she believed it to be, and it only left her more befuddled.
How he treated her physically was so different from his words and his manner. He was still often short and rude, preferring to keep his words to a minimum. Being late to their own betrothal ball showed a lack of concern that should have been startling.
But he continued to contradict even that evidence of his feelings toward her.
And heavens, how he had looked at her when she entered the church that morning.
She hadn’t wanted a church wedding, but Viv had insisted after Eliza was married at Ashbourne’s townhome. Viv said it wouldn’t do for all the Darby sisters to have civil ceremonies, and none of them were brave enough to point out that Viv had had a great, flourishing church wedding. So Louisa was married in a church.
Jo had selected her gown, and while Louisa did not care for the icy nature of the white silk, she did enjoy the look on Sebastian’s face when he’d first seen her. His eyes had gone round, and his lips parted ever so slightly. This equated to an outright emotional explosion for another person, and it left Louisa uncertain.
Sebastian wanted her. Even if he didn’t say the words, even if he was more often rude to her than not, he clearly showed his desire in those unexpected moments.
Was that what he was afraid of?
She sat up, her hands dropping loosely to her lap.
Was Sebastian…afraid of her?
Not her, exactly. He was afraid of what she made him feel?
A headiness overcame her. She’d never held that kind of power over someone, and the realization that she might over the Beastly Duke was…she didn’t know. She didn’t know how she felt about any of this, and that was why she was hiding in the retiring room to begin with.
She wanted to keep ruminating in her thoughts, but a sharp knock at the door told her her time was up.
“You can’t keep hiding in there, Louisa.”
She wasn’t surprised to hear Eliza’s voice. Louisa hadn’t been lying when she said Sebastian reminded her of Eliza. They were both pragmatists of the highest quality.
Louisa pushed to her feet, and unlocking the door, pulled it open to smile brightly at her sister to convince her nothing extraordinary was the matter.
“Did your head ache on your wedding day?”
Eliza’s laugh was soft. “My wedding was not the event of the season. Apparently, it’s more of a spectacle to marry a beastly duke than a jilted one.”
“How unfortunate.” Louisa frowned dramatically even as her stomach flipped. “Perhaps a bit of tea will help.”
She took her sister’s arm and led her back toward the rooms where the guests had filtered in after the breakfast to enjoy the usual tea and cigars. Louisa felt her throat close at the thought of re-entering those rooms and stopped abruptly on the outskirts, tugging Eliza to an unexpected stop.
“I see Sebastian has been cornered by the aunts,” Louisa said, fabricating an excuse to leave her sister. “I shall go rescue him, I think.”
She squeezed Eliza’s arm, and throwing her one more convincing smile, she plowed into the crowd to reach her husband.
Sebastian was not cornered by her aunts or anyone else for that matter. He stood at the far side of the room with only Dax as company. Apparently, everyone wished to know of Louisa’s decision to marry, but no one seemed brave enough to confront the Beastly Duke himself.
Dax turned just as she approached, and he gave her a nod as he disappeared in the direction she’d come, likely to find his wife.
Louisa took her place next to her husband, not knowing at all what to say and certain standing next to him was not any better than getting lost in the crowd.
“Your gown is…lovely.”
Louisa peered around them to see if a stampede of rhinos had suddenly crashed through the doors, but everything seemed to be just as it was before. She turned a wary eye to her husband.
> She had a glib remark on her tongue, but when she took in the tightness of his jaw and the way his eyes wandered anywhere but to her person, she took pity on him.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
Sebastian’s lips parted, and she hung on what he may say next, but she’d never find out. For just then, another voice pulled her attention away.
“Oh, if it isn’t themselves!” shrilled a voice far too loud for polite company.
Louisa started and blinked, carefully drawing into focus the pair of older women who had stopped them.
“Dear Louisa, all grown up. Why, I remember when you were just a little thing. Don’t you remember, Maude?” The woman speaking was short and stout, her gray curls poking out like broken springs around a tarnished tiara set far back on her head. Her face was doughy and round, but her eyes were sharp and bright, an incongruity Louisa found intriguing.
“Oh, I do remember, Martha. Has it really been so many years?” The second woman was just as short, but where the other was round, this one was far too slender. Her joints prodded at the elbows and through the fingers of her gloves. She, too, wore a tarnished tiara, but it nestled quite obviously on top of her lank, gray hair. Again, her eyes were disproportionately bright.
“I think it has,” replied Martha, who Louisa understood to be the stout one.
As Louisa could only blink, Maude let out a trill laugh.
“Oh dear me, child, you don’t remember who we are. It’s quite all right. You were just a wee thing. I’m your Aunt Maude. Well, not truly an aunt.” She chewed at her lower lip and looked to her companion for guidance. “I think we’re cousins, aren’t we, Martha?”
Martha took to studying the ground as if to piece the familiar connection together. Louisa could feel Sebastian stiffen beside her, and she could only imagine what he thought of this interruption.
He likely didn’t have the time for such nonsense.
“Oh, Maude, you’re quite right. Isn’t it Wendy that is the connection? I do believe Wendy is a cousin, not an aunt.”
The Duke and the Lady Page 6
