Page 11 of My Cruel Duke

Penny looked down at the ring on her finger and sighed.

She had imagined her wedding day like every young girl in London, what dress she would wear, the decorations, the colors. She had imagined months-long preparations while she met with her betrothed in secret, laughing and stealing kisses while her father looked for her. She imagined her father walking her down the aisle with a proud smile on his face.

But that was all it was. Mere imagination. She and her father had a strained relationship for reasons unbeknownst to her. Now she had traded her dream of a happy marriage for her sister’s security; she had traded love forstrictly business, a smile for a scowl, and a large, joyful celebration for a small, gloomy one. The only thing that remained was a beautiful wedding dress; the rich lace fabric was soft on her skin, and she felt wonderful in it.

True to his sobriquet, Penny was not surprised to see that no witnesses had come from the duke’s side. No family, no friends.

Has this man been alone all these years?She wondered as she walked down the aisle to him. It was an unusual thought to have while walking down the aisle, but everything about her relationship with this man was unusual. She had channeled her attention to his family because she did not want to admit to herself that he looked ravishing. Clean shaven, elegant, and devastatingly handsome, though the scowl on his face remained.

The church was small, old, and void of any decorations. Because there was no one to offer her hand, he did not bother to take it as she approached him. He simply turned to the vicar and urged that the process be done as quickly as possible. The vicar harkened to his request to the best of his ability, but Penny could tell from the older man’s face that he had had enough of Rhysand’s scowling, and she silently prayed he would voice out his disinterest to carry on with the ceremony so that they would have more time to plan a bigger ceremony. He did not.

“You may kiss your bride,” the dreaded words reverberated through her skin. Slowly, Penny faced the duke, but the permanent scowl on his face kept her from going any closer to him. He watched her intently, from the crown of her head to the hem of her pearl white wedding dress, then his eyes traveled up again to her face; then he took the step she was too reluctant to take and lowered his head.

Penny stared at him wide-eyed, and every resistance in her dissipated when his lips came down on hers. She parted her lips softly as his lips moved over hers with professionalism, and a gasp escaped her when his tongue touched her lower lip. She had never felt anything like it before. His tongue invaded her mouth, sending ripples of desire racing through her. Punishing and cruel, just like him.

She had momentarily forgotten that they had company, and in that company, her sister sat beside her Aunt Augusta. At that moment, it was just them and no one else.

Raising his mouth from hers, he gazed into her eyes, and she saw it. A burning desire that matched hers.

Then he blinked, and it was gone.

Aunt Augusta leaped and clapped loudly, her golden bangles clapping along with her in loud clangs, and Penny burned a fine crimson. The rest of the ceremony passed by in a breeze, and a permanent blush sat on Penny’s face through it all. Even as she made her way into the carriage, herhusbandfollowed closely behind her.

Husband.

It was a strange word that somehow did not fit Rhysand. It was too mundane for him. Or perhaps it was the way he carried himself like everything was mundane to him. He had not said a word since they were pronounced man and wife.

Yet, as she sat opposite him in their carriage, she plastered a smile on her face and waved to her sister, Aunt Augusta, and the other two witnesses –page boys from the church– as the carriage moved. It was her wedding day; she had every right to be happy on that day.

“I noticed no one from your family was present at the ceremony,” Penny tried for small talk. They were married now; she was allowed some informality with him. He raised a disinterested brow and released a grunt in response. “Does that mean you do not have a family?”

“My Uncle is away on business; he sent his love.” He gazed at her with a bland half-smile. The bright smile on her face remained.

“I never formally expressed my gratitude to you for the staff and gifts.” With his eyes looking outside the carriage, he responded with a low grunt. “Thank you, Your G– Rhysand.”

No response.

“You should not have sent all of it, though. My Aunt Augusta had more jewelry on her today than the Queen,” Penny joked and laughed. If Rhysand found the joke funny, he did a magnificent job of hiding it.

“You should have taken a hint from her and adorned yourself in more. You are a duchess now; you should dress the part.”

She smiled smoothly, betraying nothing of her annoyance at him and his words.

“I am forced to believe, then, that the wedding breakfast will be just as extravagant?”

Heavy blue eyes shot her a glassy stare, and she swallowed.

“There will be no wedding breakfast. And while we are on the topic, there will be no balls, no parties, no music or dancing in my home. I prefer my solitude, and so, for the duration you and your family shall stay in Thornbury, you shall stay out of my sight.”

Penny’s lips parted in surprise. “Surely, you do not mean that. You cannot expect that we live like the dead. Sometimes a bit of celebration and music is good for the soul.”

Rhysand scoffed, and his blue eyes met her brown ones.

"Good thing you married me, Sunshine. You are so naïve and innocent the world would have crushed you before the Season was out.”

At this, Penny’s nostrils flared. She had not been married to him for up to an hour, and he had already managed to get under her skin more than once.

“I assure you that I am not naïve. I am more than capable of defending myself, and I implore you to cease calling me that!”

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