Page 65 of Her Ruse with the Wicked Duke
“Thank you for giving me away, Richard,” she replied, unsure of what to say to him.
After everything they had been through, it felt wrong to give him the cold shoulder, especially when he was being so uncharacteristically nice today.
He said nothing in response, simply gripping her firmer, which she decided to take as a form of kindness from him.
Alice felt like time could not go slower as she marched down the aisle with her brother, unfamiliar faces grinning at her as the music felt like it would never end. Finally, she made it to the end of the line, looking up at Lord Eaton, who grinned down at her, coming closer and shaking Richard’s hand before taking hers and leading her up to the altar.
“Are you ready?” He looked at her, his sandy blonde hair combed back and oiled to societal perfection. “You look so beautiful, Miss Snow.”
She knew that she was simply picking everything apart because of how she felt about the Duke, but as she looked around, she began to realize that this was her day. He would not take it from her. She had waited so long, worked so hard for this that she was not going to let him take one more ounce of joy from her.
The room was filled with ornately placed white floral bouquets and vines of plants and flowers that shook their way up the chapel’s pillars and toward the balcony above them. It was gorgeous, and the light filtering through the stained-glass windows was soft and warm.
As Alice observed it all, she felt a wave of relief wash over her, and she took the Earl’s hand, stepping onto the altar.
“I am ready,” she said. She believed it.
“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness the matrimony of these two…” The priest began his speech, and Alice turned her head to the little girl in the front row—the Earl’s youngest sister. She gave her a small wave, which drew the girl’s attention. She sat up to wave back, grinning.
Alice looked up to the man before her, his soft features smiling down at her. He seemed entirely content with just her standing before him, and she smiled lightly, focusing back on the preacher, who was now saying something about eternity.
“Now, these two people have been through many hardships. They have lost loved ones, and they are learning to build that same love again,” the priest said, and Alice looked down at the ground.
She did not want to cry at her wedding. But thinking about her parents, and how much they loved each other, just made the tears roll down her cheeks faster as she turned to Richard, who looked stoic, but in an uncomfortable, forced way.
I wish I could help him see that he does not need to have such a hard exterior…
“It is now time for vows. The groom will read first.”
The Earl let go of Alice’s hands to reach into his pocket and fish out a small piece of parchment with incomprehensible scribbles all over it. He frantically fiddled with the paper. She reached her hand out to hold his wrist, reassuring him.
He smiled and began to read. “Miss Snow, when I first saw you?—”
Before he could finish a single sentence, Alice heard the slam of the wooden doors at the back of the chapel.
Everyone was already facing the doors, muttering quietly to themselves or gasping as a tired-looking Rowan Salvator stood before them, a crease in his brow.
“You were supposed to say, ‘stop the wedding,’” the Duke of Rutland muttered from behind him.
Alice looked at Rowan from across the room, and it felt like time stood still. His eyes were bloodshot, and his hair was tousled in that perfect way, a few stray dark locks falling to frame his eyes. Somehow, when she met his eyes, they softened, and a wrenching feeling ripped through her chest.
“I object to this wedding,” he said, holding her gaze.
“You cannot do this, Your Grace,” she said, mustering the courage to stand taller.
Her entire being wanted to run to him, but she knew that he was simply being possessive.
I knew from the beginning of our arrangement that he did not want marriage, and I still let myself fall for him. He should be glad that I am moving on with my life and getting away from my brother, so why is he here?
As if beckoned by her question, Rowan began to stride down the aisle, determination in his eyes. The men in the congregation stood up, ready to step out and stop the man who was interrupting the service.
“Your Grace, this is entirely inappropriate. You were not invited to our wedding for a reason. She does not want to see you.” Lord Eaton stepped in front of Alice, whose feet were glued to her spot on the altar.
She did not know what to do with herself, and she could not make her feet or mouth move.
“I will let her decide that, Sir,” Rowan replied, looking at her, a sense of pleading beginning to bleed into his features. “Alice.”
“Rowan, I—” she stammered, utterly shocked by what was happening. She did not know what to say. “I cannot just give up my future for you, Your Grace. What you are doing is not fair, and you know it.”
