The Duke That I Marry: A Spinster Heiresses Novel

by Cathy Maxwell

  “Time is passing,” her father announced in a booming voice that echoed off the church’s stone columns.

  “Yes, we must be on with it,” Matt agreed, and without ceremony, offered his arm to lead Willa to the altar.

  The church fell quiet as the ceremony began. Willa was a bit surprised that Soren was her husband’s groomsman. Cassandra had said nothing of it the day before.

  Of course, when they spoke, the question had been if there would be a marriage sacrament, not who would be in attendance.

  Matt said his vows in a clear, deep, confident voice.

  When repeating hers, Willa started at a whisper. Her mother’s disturbing words echoed in her head, especially now that she was standing before an altar. Off to the side, she heard her father snort his impatience.

  She focused on Matt, meeting his eye. He smiled patiently. Her voice picked up strength.

  It was true she barely knew her husband. Rumors surrounded him, but he also had sisters who obviously cared for him.

  She’d listened to him vow to protect, love, and comfort her. He’d promised to forsake all others and be faithful.

  In this space of time, she wished to believe him, and used her vows as a way to reassure herself.

  Matt surprised her with a wedding band of scrolled gold set with tiny emeralds. After the ring had been blessed, he slipped it on her finger. It fit perfectly and was completely to her tastes.

  In that moment, Willa’s heart began to open.

  Months of doubt evaporated.

  He’d promised they would be good together. She now let herself believe him. Her fingers closed around his.

  Matt noticed the gesture. He smiled, tightened his hold, and she couldn’t help but grin like a daffy fool.

  Yes, he was almost too handsome to be mortal. There would always be women eyeing him. However, he acted kind and she believed he was honest. The humiliation of being alone and having to wait for him no longer mattered. Instead, she chose to think about the future.

  Reverend Beam held his hands high over their heads. In officious tones, he announced, “Now that Matthew Reginald Addison and Willa Louise Reverly have given themselves to each other by solemn vows, with the joining of hands and the giving and receiving of a ring, I pronounce that they are husband and wife, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.” He paused before finishing with great flourish, “Those whom God has joined together, let no one put asunder.”

  It was done. She was married. To the one man every woman in London wanted.

  Including her.

  “Good,” her father said, clapping his hands and interrupting her savoring the realization of the moment. He came to his feet. “My daughter is a duchess. Your Grace, we will settle some details this afternoon.” And then he proclaimed in more sonorous tones than those used by the priest, “To the House of Reverly-Addison.” He referred to the name Matt had agreed to take on as part of the marriage bargain. Reverly-Addison. It was a mouthful, and yet, Willa experienced a surge of pride. Her family would not disappear into history.

  “But we must hurry along our way,” her father said. “The guests will be arriving shortly. Your Grace?” He offered the dowager his arm, and in a blink, they were off toward the door, her mother trailing behind them.

  “Janie, you will want to go with them,” Willa said.

  Her mother had heard the comment and stopped. “Yes, come, Janie. Your mother will be waiting at the house.”

  Janie acted relieved to be dismissed from her bridal duties.

  “Willa is yours now, Camberly,” her father cheerfully called as he started through the door a footman held open. “Have her at the house before noon.”

  Matt said he would happily, but then he took time to thank the clergy, passing a coin purse to Reverend Beam. It was a task Willa knew usually fell to the groomsman, but Matt had apparently chosen to perform it himself. She liked that. He wasn’t one to conform to Society. He did as he thought right.

  She believed it was original of him to have Soren, a married man, as his groomsman. She would have preferred Cassandra to have served as her bridesmaid instead of Janie. It would have made the ceremony more personal. But she’d lacked her husband’s independence.

  Cassandra gave her a huge hug. “Congratulations. You look beautiful, and I know you will be happy.” She whispered for Willa’s ears alone, “He will be good to you. He will .”

  Matt had turned to his sisters, who were waiting to offer their congratulations. “You are coming to the wedding breakfast.” It was an order.

  “We weren’t invited. Please, Matt, don’t make a fuss. We are fine,” Alice said. “We’ll just return to my friend Clara’s house where we are staying.”

  “Please, celebrate with us,” Willa said, adding her voice to her husband’s—her first wifely duty. “My father is laying a table that could feed five thousand. Please, come.”

  It was Kate who decided it. “I’m going. If for no other reason than to stand behind the dowager’s chair and make her acknowledge we are family.” She pulled a face to demonstrate how she would look down on her grandmother while pretending to be some ferocious animal.

  Alice and Matt laughed but Willa was confused, and then dared to say, “Her Grace acts as if you have offended her.”

  “The fact we breathe air offends her,” Kate answered.

  It was Matt who explained. “Our father was deemed the black sheep of the family for marrying beneath him. Grandmother goes to great lengths to remind my sisters that she considers them disowned.”

  “And yet, she dotes on you,” Willa said.

  “She hasn’t always,” Matt answered. “Still, she has treated me far better than she has them.”

  “It is because he is male,” Kate said in an exaggerated whisper. “He has a rodney.”

  Rodney? And then Willa realized she was talking about his male bits. Her mouth started to drop, until she caught Kate observing her closely.

  “An innocent, aren’t you?” Kate said.

  To such outspokenness? In a church? Yes, Willa was. However, she didn’t want Kate to know. “It doesn’t seem right to ignore all but one member of the family.”

  “It isn’t,” Kate agreed, somewhat cheerfully.

  Alice said, “The old duke and his wife were very rigid in their views. Father defied them when he married Mother and they were furious. They claimed they could never forgive him . . . and then it became too late for a reconciliation. Our parents died of a fever.”

  “That is sad,” Willa said. Cassandra nodded.

  “It was Alice who forced our grandfather to do what was right for Matt,” Kate said.

  “And that is how I met him in school,” Soren interjected. “His one and only friend. May I offer you two a ride in our vehicle? That way we can give our bride and groom a moment alone before they face the crush invited to celebrate their wedding.”

  “Thank you,” Alice said.

  “Well, then let us go. As groomsman, I need to shepherd everyone to the party.” Soren spoke with the good humor Willa’s father had lacked. “Reverend Beam, will you join us?”

  “Is there room, my lord?”

  “We shall squeeze you in,” Soren assured him, and the minister agreed.

  Matt offered Willa his arm, and the group of them left. Outside, the small crowd in front of the church had waited for them. There were a few cheers and then Matt swept Willa up into his arms to place her in the Camberly coach, a lumbering black vehicle with his ducal signet on the door. Their admirers liked the grand gesture and shouted their approval.

  And Willa found herself happy. She finally allowed herself to be caught up in the heady rush of realizing this marriage was giving her a place in the world. Her husband was handsome; her friend Cassandra was near at hand; why, Matt even had sisters whom she rather liked and looked forward to knowing better.

  Yes, the horses pulling the coach looked as if they were hired, and not from the best of stables. It didn’t matter.
Willa’s dowry would give them all they needed. She could do that for him. And for his sisters, she realized. His whole family would benefit, even the dowager.

  He climbed into the coach with her, his large body taking up most of the space. He rapped on the roof and they rolled forward.

  For a second, they were quiet. Willa looked at her husband expectantly for a clue as to what they should do next.

  He leaned back against the seat, setting his hat faded velvet cushion beside him. “Well, it is done,” he said.

  She nodded, suddenly shy.

  “I’ll be a good husband to you,” he said.

  His statement seemed odd to her. “I didn’t think you wouldn’t.”

  He reached out a hand. They had each given their gloves to their attendants and had not taken them back. She placed her left palm in his. His hand seemed very strong in comparison to hers.

  She looked up at him and wished he would kiss her. Just as he had on her wrist, but on her lips. She was past ready for that first kiss.

  Instead, he said, “I’ve been too caught up with other matters. I should have paid more attention.”

  Immediately, Willa thought of Letty Bainhurst. She didn’t wish to, but that was where her mind went.

  “There was so much to be done at Mayfield,” he continued. “I know little of estate management and have had much to learn. I should have contacted my sisters. I feel selfish,” he finished, obviously unaware of how his admission reassured Willa.

  Her jealousy embarrassed her, especially coming on the heels of the vows she’d just made. The gold of her wedding band winked at her.

  He was her husband now. He’d done all that was honorable. Matt was not her father. He wasn’t.

  And she wasn’t her mother.

  “I’m certain they understand.”

  “It doesn’t excuse what I did.” He released his breath as if coming to a decision. He looked at her. “But I’ll be good from here on forward.”

  Once again, her heart seemed to expand a bit more in her chest. He was a good man. She’d married a good man.

  The coach pulled up at the door of her house. Guests were already arriving. A queue had formed, and Peters, the butler, had the task of managing matters so that no one’s sensibilities were insulted.

  The coach door was opened. Matt leaped out first and then helped Willa to the ground.

  Leland Reverly stood inside the door. “Take your places,” he said impatiently. “Hurry.”

  Matt and Willa exchanged looks. Willa was thankful he was tolerant of her father.

  The moment they were in their proper places in line and had put on the gloves they had retrieved from their attendants, her father nodded for Peters to shut the front door and then open it anew as if welcoming the world, and that was who seemed to arrive.

  Guests poured through the door to be met with as much pomp and fanfare as her father could afford.

  Willa knew many of the guests whether she’d talked to them or not. They flattered her and called her “Your Grace.” Women curtseyed, and men bowed . . . women and men who would have barely given her any consideration only months ago.

  Lady Wellington came through the line. “I see you took my advice to heart,” she said to Willa. “Good for you.”

  “What advice?” Matt wished to know. He’d been having a few words of quiet conversation with his cousin George Addison, who had been introduced to Willa as a lawyer. She’d heard of him, of course. Her father knew him well.

  Instead of answering, Lady Wellington merely smiled, tapping her fan against her cheek, and moved on down the line.

  In truth, Willa could not have asked for a more attentive bridegroom than Matt. He was far more outgoing than she. He greeted people easily, presented her to those she did not know, and always included her in any conversations.

  By the time her father called an end to the receiving line, Willa was starved. However, the serving was a bit tedious. There were so many people, service didn’t end until almost three. Everyone had been fed but many were now seriously doing damage to the Reverly cellars. Her father was leading the pack. Even the dowager appeared more than a bit tipsy.

  Because the celebration was so huge, guests filled several rooms. To her relief, Matt was sober. He circulated through the rooms with Willa in order to spend time with all their guests. She liked being by his side. She felt important.

  At one point, Cassandra drew her close to whisper, “Do we still need to have the coach waiting to help you escape to Cornwall?”

  Willa glanced over to where Matt was involved in conversation with Soren and another gentleman. Of the group, her husband was easily the most handsome. She linked her arm with Cassandra’s and led her to an alcove. “No,” she answered. “I believe I’m well pleased. However, I must talk to you.”

  “What is it?”

  There were people all around them and barely a private place to be had, but Willa needed to ask the questions that had been burning in her mind ever since her mother’s conversation that morning. Bringing her lips almost to Cassandra’s ear lest she be overheard, she said, “Mother fears that the marriage bed might be difficult for me.”

  Cassandra’s eyes widened. “What did she say to you? You’ve gone pale.”

  “She fears for me because my husband is a big man and I’m so petite.”

  Cassandra took her hand. “Willa, it will be fine. Matt is a good man. He won’t hurt you. Don’t worry about it.”

  “Was it painful for you?”

  “No. And I count the hours in my husband’s arms, in that bed, the best part of the day. Besides, didn’t Lady Bainhurst claim he was the best of lovers? If anyone can reliably rate lovers, it is Letty. That is all the women at the tables can talk about.”

  “At my wedding feast? That is outrageous.”

  “Well, not if it is true. Oh, come, Willa, it is not a bad thing to marry a man who knows what he is about. As to the fact that he is tall and you are much smaller, I’ve met other odd couples in height. They never act as if it is a problem.”

  Her words relieved Willa. “Thank you.”

  Cassandra gave her a hug. “I want you to be happy. You deserve it. We all do. And after I have this baby, you and I will travel to see Leonie. Doesn’t that sound like the best idea?”

  “It does. Let’s plan on it.”

  A maid approached Willa. “Excuse me, Your Grace, but your mother asks you to join her at her table.”

  “Don’t listen to wives’ tales,” Cassandra warned, and Willa nodded before following the maid. She looked to see where her husband was and discovered that he was involved with a group of men. However, from another doorway, her mother was signaling she wished Willa’s presence. Willa soon found herself making small talk to her mother’s card friends.

  As soon as she was able, Willa excused herself and went in search of her husband.

  The crowd was growing seriously unruly, their tongues loosened by free-flowing spirits. If Willa had been in control of this event, the servants would be gathering glasses by now. However, her father liked this sort of madcap affair.

  One man, her father’s age, charged up to her, demanding to kiss the bride. He started to take advantage of Willa’s size by trying to pick her up and give her a sloppy kiss. She was quite adept at dodging such silliness. Spirits made everyone forget themselves and she had no desire to make a scene. She slipped from his arms and moved out into the hall.

  The guest shouted for her to come back and the other people in the room shouted for him to sit down, some even pulling him into a chair.

  Willa needed air. Or to pull the pins out of her hair.

  The back rooms of the house were quieter. She moved to the garden door that had been propped open to take advantage of the lovely day, but then stopped when she heard her husband talking to Kate.

  She would have announced herself except she heard Kate say, “Willa is lovely. And I’m certain she will make an impeccable duchess even if she is little more than a child herse
lf.”

  That was a statement to stop Willa in her steps.

  “Stop it, Kate. Willa is a woman in every way.”

  “She’s an example of the pampered class. She knows little of the world. And her eyes follow you everywhere as if you are some treasure someone has placed in her lap.”

  Did she have that expression? Willa didn’t think so . . . except she could admit to being slightly dazzled by her husband’s good looks.

  She was pleased that her husband defended her. “She is far stronger and more sensible than you imagine,” he assured his sister.

  “I’m certain you are right. However, in our family, we marry for love , Matt. We learned that from our parents.”

  “There is the title—” he started, but she cut him off.

  “Love . That’s all that is important. Why do you think I am still single? I refuse to settle for anything less. So, tell me you love Willa and I shall shut my mouth. Even after your ridiculous decision to join her name to yours.”

  “Kate.” He said her name as if wishing she would understand.

  “Matt.” She mimicked his tone, unrelenting in her demand.

  He made an impatient sound and then said, “Our parents were fortunate. What they had was rare. I’ve seen it in no one else—”

  “Alice and Roland, Amanda and Robert—” Kate began ticking off.

  Matt interrupted her. “I know, I know. They are all lucky, because I will tell you, I’ve been in love. Yes, see, you didn’t know that, Kate. It made a bloody fool of me. No, worse, it almost destroyed me. This is better. I respect Willa.”

  “And her sizable dowry,” Kate added, sounding disenchanted. “How touching.”

  “That will see this family through difficult times,” Matt assured her.

  “Do you think money is what we want from you? That it is the reason Alice and I traveled to London? If you do, then I pity Willa. Marriage is hard, Matt. Without love, it is little more than a business transaction.”

  “Says someone who has never been married or in love.”

  There was a pause as if his words had struck home. And then she said, “I don’t understand how you went so far astray. There must be a reason, and I’ll wager the fault lies with you .” She must have walked off with those words because he tried to call her back.