Page 43 of Wedded to the Ruthless Duke

He felt as if a demon rose inside his chest. That demon, clawing to be free, was quite determined to be the man to show her that pleasure.

“Ahem,” the priest cleared his throat.

Philip did his best to stop pacing as he turned to greet the priest.

“I believe all is ready,” the priest said. “Shall we begin?”

“She’s here?” Philip muttered, alarmed that the morning had gone so fast. “Yes. Yes, please begin.”

The priest signaled to the organist who began to play. Xander and Dorian hastily took their seats as Philip turned to look around at the pews. Grace’s mother and cousin had also appeared. They sat in the front seat, Lady Tabitha looking very nervous indeed as Lady Garton was pink cheeked and excitable, unable to contain her smile for she bounced in the pew.

The doors to the chapel opened.

Philip didn’t look at Grace at first. He was too busy glaring at Lady Garton, quite sickened by her look of triumph that her daughter was going to be a duchess.

“Look at your bride, Philip,” Aaron commanded under his breath.

Philip tore his gaze away, turning to look down the aisle.

The Marquess of Garton escorted his daughter. Wan and unable to stand straight, Philip’s heart bled for the man. Yet the Marquess of Garton was smiling despite his troubles, and he was smiling at his daughter beside him.

Philip’s eyes shot to Grace. The first thing he noticed was her scowl as she looked back at him.

Defiance. It’s who you are, Grace.

Something about this thought made that demon lodged in his chest purr pleasantly then his eyes shot further south, and his jaw fell open.

It had to be the first time he had seen Grace in such a gown. There were no frills, no high neckline, and no excessive material around the bodice to hide her figure. It was almost as if lace had been torn from her body, leaving her curves fully exposed.

The deep neckline revealed the perfect cleavage, plump and round. The empire bodice, pressed to the inward curve of her waist, accented the way the lace hugged those delicious hips. The train had been tied up in a bustle behind her back, offering even more of an emphasis to those hips.

Ah, Grace. What are you doing to me?

“Close your mouth,” Aaron urged behind him.

Philip did as he was instructed. Grace crossed toward him on her father’s arm, the embodiment of sensuality and seduction in that gown. Philip didn’t think it would be possible to tear his gaze from his new bride until he caught something out of the corner of his eyes that drew him.

Lady Garton in the front pew was alarmed indeed at the gown her daughter had chosen. She appeared to have fallen out of her seat, only held there by her niece clutching her arm.

“Thank you,” Philip whispered to Lord Garton as he placed Grace’s hand in his own.

“Good luck to you both,” Lord Garton whispered, sharing a smile with his daughter before he retreated to sit beside his wife.

Philip led Grace the final distance to the altar, standing before the priest. Unable to tear his gaze from Grace in that dress, he felt somewhat like a bumbling fool, nearly walking straight into the altar if it had not been for the priest clearing his throat beside him.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Grace whispered as the priest waited for the organ music to finish.

“Like what?” Philip whispered back to her innocently, glad no one could hear their whispers above the organ.

“As if you are ready to devour me,” she murmured. His gaze darkened as he prayed with that look that she understood it was exactly what he wanted to do.

“Dearly beloved,” the priest began, and they both did their best to shift their focus to him.

* * *

“Well, at least you managed to restrain yourself to a peck,” Dorian laughed as he passed Philip a glass of wine. “The way you were looking at her, I thought we might all be treated to another sight of scandal.”

As Xander laughed, Philip downed the glass of wine.

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