Page 17 of The Duke and the Runaway Bride

Edwin thought back to that morning when he had almost kissed Beatrice. She had looked at him with more lust than he had seen in a woman before, and he relished it.

“Ah, to have your looks,” Robert sighed wistfully. “What do your family make of it all? They have always wanted you to wed, but perhaps not like this.”

“Mother believes Lady Beatrice must be the most wonderful woman in London to have stolen me from Miss Jennings. She was fond of Miss Jennings, but that might be because they had not spent much time together. Still, to have been caught in a scandal and to choose the scandalous woman—well, Mother believes I have found true love.”

“Ah, true love,” Robert said, batting his eyelashes.

Edwin smiled. “Elizabeth never liked Miss Jennings, so she is overjoyed that I broke off the engagement—though she hides her glee well. She is suspicious of Lady Beatrice, and for good reason. Elizabeth is far too polite to question me about it more, but she knows something is not quite right. I only met Lady Beatrice last night, so I can’t have fallen for her so quickly. Still, she is happy I will still wed, and she will not have Miss Jennings as a sister-in-law.”

Robert smiled and shook his head. “You never cease to astound me. All of this happened, and you take it in your stride. You are really not annoyed by how this has played out.”

Edwin thought about it for a second. “No, not one bit. It is as if fate stepped in, and everyone is better off. Miss Jennings might not believe it in her current state, but she will find someone else. It is funny how life works out sometimes.”

“Yes, very funny,” Robert drawled. “Well, if you are to be married soon, you must make the most of your freedom. I believe another round of drinks is in order.”

He didn’t wait for a response and gestured for more cognac to be brought.

Edwin was happy to drink the night away with his friends as he came to terms with his new situation. He didn’t know much about Beatrice, so he had no idea what sort of wife she would be, but she already had Agnes beat in one critical area.

He had been looking forward to his wedding night for obvious reasons, but not specifically because of Agnes. Since he had seen Beatrice in her shift, it had been all he could think about. He could have easily delayed the wedding by another month or two, but the feeling in his loins would not let him.

He had a need deep within him to ravish Beatrice, and from the way she had looked at him during their brief interaction, she would enjoy it just as much as he would.

ChapterSeven

The Wedding Day

Three Weeks Later

“Oh, my goodness!” Modesty Clarke, the Dowager Duchess of Walford, exclaimed. “Was that not the most beautiful wedding ceremony you have ever seen?”

Beatrice was at a loss for words for a moment. It was the first time she had been introduced to Edwin’s mother, and she was doubly surprised at the energy of the woman. She wore a bright pink dress and a grin that looked oversized on her face.

“Um, yes,” Beatrice agreed. “Yes, it was rather nice.”

She racked her brain, trying to think of one part of the wedding that could be described as anything other than ordinary, but she found none. The service went just as expected—it was short and sweet, and the priest spoke clearly and confidently. If there was a standard to set for future wedding ceremonies, it was certainly her own wedding.

“Oh, and the music,” Modesty continued, talking about the harp player near the door. She pressed her hands to her cheeks as if she were in disbelief. “I have never heard the sound of angels, but I came close today.” She removed her hands from her cheeks and placed them on Beatrice’s. “And your dress, my dear. Oh, I have not seen a more beautiful bride.”

Beatrice might not agree she was the most beautiful bride, but her dress was stunning. Her father had bought it for the wedding—he certainly had not held back. She felt regal in her long cream gown with floral embroidery.

She was glad her father had chosen so well, and she matched the effort the Duke had put in. He was resplendent in his jet-black trousers and tail coat, pressed snow-white shirt, and emerald green cravat. He wore a black top hat, and Beatrice knew his hair would be perfectly styled beneath even after removing the headwear.

There was so much to take in, and she felt closed in by the Duke and his family. She had not seen him between the morning when the scandal had broken out and her wedding day. It was her first time meeting any of his family.

“Your hair is gorgeous,” Modesty gushed. “And I could not stop crying when the two of you kissed at the end of the service. It shall be a memory etched in my mind until the day I die.”

“Thank you for your kind words,” Beatrice replied.

She found the Duke’s stepmother entertaining for sure, but the generous words reminded her of her disappointment. Beatrice was not looking forward to a marriage with theCruel Duke, but she was looking forward to her wedding night and, before that, the kiss at their wedding.

The kiss had been as simple as the ceremony, with the Duke pecking her cheek instead of the passionate kiss she had hoped for.

“Your Grace,” Elizabeth said, curtseying before Beatrice.

“What are—” Beatrice paused when she realized she was now a duchess. She tried not to look shocked as her sister-in-law straightened back up before her.

“You must excuse my mother,” Elizabeth whispered. “She can get caught up in these sorts of things, and she has been speculating about how beautiful and charismatic you are to have stolen my brother from Miss Jennings.”

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