Page 33 of The Duke's Hellion

If Sam thoughtthe wedding toast had been saccharine, going through a rehearsal of the ceremony was that much more agonizing. Sally was standing at the end of the aisle looking out over the church, pondering who knew what. The flowers cascading over the pews? The fabric draped overhead? The lit candles at the front?

Her face was scrunched up as if the number of wrinkles produced correlated to the amount of stress she was facing. James and Joan weren’t much help, since they were essentially staring into each other’s eyes in the corner, possibly looking for a quick escape. They had hardly been around this house party, but being newly engaged, Sam didn’t need to ask why that was so.

As he watched Mimi walk toward Sally, he had a weighted feeling, much like a large rock, slowly sinking to his feet. This couldn’t be good. Mimi was not known for her good ideas. Though he was one to speak. Last night, hauling her into the garden hadn’t exactly been one of his better ideas. After he scolded her, he stared at her wondering what to do next. Thankfully she had just turned on her heel and stormed back into the ballroom. Otherwise, he wasn’t too sure what he would have done.

That night his dreams had kept him awake, though he couldn’t recall (or admit) what (or who) had been the object of his feral desire. It certainly wasn’t the blonde hellion at the back of the abbey talking to Sally.

That large rock inside of him was still on a slow descent as he studied the two women speaking, but it was too much like deciphering a foreign language. Hands were moving, a few pats on the shoulder, a swipe under the eyes, a few laughs, a scowl directed at someone near the front of the church (Sam didn’t bother verifying who), and then a few more laughs. Sally was gesticulating with her hands, and Mimi was nodding. Her face froze for an instant. Coincidentally, it was the same instant that the rock in Sam’s body hit the floor.

Her eyes met his, and even from where he was standing, he could see her tighten her lips and pull them back into a smile. Another nod and then Sally was walking toward him.

She was shining with happiness. This was really not going to be good.

“Sam,” she was almost breathless in her delight, “good news.” Only, he knew it wasn’t. “Mimi has proposed the most perfect suggestion.” She clapped her hands. “I was having the most difficult time envisioning everything only moments ago.”

Only moments ago, Sam had watched her struggle. He only hoped her newfound peace didn’t require anything absurd from him. But really, from the gleam in her eye, and the frozen face Mimi had sent his way, he knew that something was about to be requested of him.

“Since I’m the bride,” she beamed, “I couldn’t see everything from the outside. Mimi,” she gestured toward the innocent-looking-but-not-so-innocent being in question, “has agreed to take my place in the ceremony so I can watch everything unfold and make certain it’s everything I have ever dreamed it should be.”

A reply of some kind was expected of him at this point. He offered a low hum that he hoped conveyed support more than caution.

“But I couldn’t have her walk down the aisle to Jacob.” She laughed. And he wanted to laugh too because by this point he knew what the request was.

“Yes. That would be silly.”

“Of course it would be. He’s not her fiancé.”

Sam withheld from stating the obvious. That he was also in fact, not her (or anyone’s) fiancé.

“Besides, I wanted Jacob at my side so we can discuss everything.”

Sam already knew that Jacob would just agree with everything that Sally wanted. The man was smitten. More than smitten. The man was floating around on a love cloud that no one else could see or touch.

“Makes sense,” Sam mumbled.

“I knew you would see it my way.” Had he another choice? Not with a bride.

“So you’ll stand right over here.” She gently (but firmly) pushed his forearm to guide him into his spot. The spot. The spot that wasn’t his. Shouldn’t be his. Would never be his. But somehow was his.

Inwardly he groaned and closed his eyes for a moment. He wanted to rake his hands through his hair and clench his fists, but then settled on scrubbing the lower half of his face with a long blink.

He was going to have to watch Mimi walk down the aisle. Oh, he had been prepared for that. Her as the bridesmaid, him as the groomsman. It meant nothing. But now, to be the stand-in groom and her the bride? It was too much.

He didn’t need to envision her in white walking toward him, ready and willing to give him everything. Her life. Her mind. Her body. Obviously, that’s not what was happening. He didn’t need to think those thoughts.

“Everyone ready?” Sally shouted. Who needed to be ready? It was Mimi and Sam that had the bulk of the work.

After moving to a spot at the perimeter of the room with Jacob, Sally called out, “Sam? Are you ready?”

A nod confirmed his state of readiness, which was to say, he was as ready as he was going to ever be pretending to be a groom to a woman he couldn’t have but was for some reason of late burning to have.

“Begin!” Sally boomed. Mimi started to take a few steps down the aisle, and Sam averted his eyes, paying special attention to the paintings on the wall and then the meticulously painted stained glass windows.

“Stop!” Sally quickly called out and rushed over to Sam. “You must watch the bride. You don’t have to be in love with her—”

“I’m not.”

Sally’s eyes widened at his interruption but she quickly schooled her features. “No, of course. Just face her and watch her walk down the aisle.” A quick pat on his head as if he were a child in need of encouragement to brush his teeth, she walked away.

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