Page 11 of His Unwanted Duchess

Beatrice stopped listening. She’d heard plenty of wedding sermons before. In fact, the last one was Anna and Theodore’s. That had been a different wedding altogether. For one thing, it had attracted a good deal of attention, because Anna had very nearly married Theodore’s younger brother, Henry.

The three of them were friends, although Henry had briefly left the country shortly after. With his painter, no less. Beatrice had to smile at that.

I am glad Henry is happy. And Anna and Theodore are in love. Two out of three of us found happiness and love, at the very least. That isn’t terrible.

I wish Jane were here.

She squeezed her eyes shut.

A shoulder knocked roughly against hers, and her eyes flew open. The Marquess was leaning towards her, his breath sour and smelling of alcohol.

“If you’re thinking of fainting, don’t even try it,” he hissed. “If you embarrass me in public, I’ll see your father and your family ruined before I’m finished. Don’t cross me, woman.”

“You’ve already won,” she responded at once. “Why are you being so cruel? Why bother trying to grind me into the dirt?”

He only smiled grimly. “Like I said, we’ll start as we mean to go on. I don’t approve of women like you,Beatrice.I don’t want a bluestocking wife, and I don’t intend to have one. If I were you, I would turn over a new leaf from this very moment. Turn over a new leaf, or I’ll turn it over for you.”

Beatrice shivered, real fear taking hold, her chest tightening.

What have I done? What will my life be?

The vicar’s sermon was drawing to a close. Soon would come the vows, and then would come the official declaration. They would be married. The wedding breakfast would come and go, and then the Marquess would doubtless make sure they wereproperlymarried.

She felt sick again, and this time she wondered if she really was going to vomit. Beatrice hadn’t touched a morsel all day, but there was that tea…

The vicar paused, just for a moment, drawing in a breath. In that split-second of silence, a clear, cold voice cut through the air.

“I apologize for the interruption, vicar, but I believe I have something rather important to say.”

Everybody spun around, their eyes wide. Beatrice turned, even though she already knew exactly who it was. Really, that could only behisvoice.

The Duke of Blackwood—who she was quite sure had not been in the audience a few minutes ago—was now standing in the middle of the aisle, his hands shoved in his pockets. Judging by the incredulous stares he was getting, he appeared to have materialized out of thin air.

The Marquess bit back a snarl. “You weren’t invited,” he snapped.

The Duke blinked slowly, like a cat. “And yet, here I am. I am terribly sorry, everyone, but this marriage absolutely cannot happen.”

CHAPTER 4

Aseries of gasps rippled across the congregation, as Stephen had known it would. Oh, yes. This wedding was going to be so talked about it would even overshadow Henry Stanley and Anna’s disastrous almost-wedding.

He allowed a good, long pause, to let the anticipation build. And, of course, to size up his opponent.

Beatrice looked as though she’d been turned to stone, and not surprisingly. He imagined that she’d thought he had given up on helping her, or was simply not going to find anything.

He had considered sending her a quick note, just to let her know that he was on the case. It hadn’t taken long to decide against it. It was simply too risky—and anyway, where was the fun in that?

The esteemed Marquess of Hampton had turned an interesting shade of puce. No doubt he was already entertaining fantasiesof charging down the aisle and smashing his fist into Stephen’s face.

Not in front of all of London, you won’t,Stephen thought, with a satisfied smile.Not that you can land a damned blow on me, anyway.

“Sir, you are supposed to wait until I ask if there are any objections to the wedding,” the vicar chipped in, sounding peeved. “That is the way things are done. Heavens, another moment and I would haveaskedif anybody knew of any reason these two could not be wed.”

Stephen eyed the man coldly. To his credit, the vicar met Stephen’s gaze unflinchingly.

“My apologies. Would you like to continue? I can wait.”

The vicar heaved a sigh and snapped the heavy Bible shut, the sound echoing through the church. “No, I would not.”

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