Page 14 of The Spinster and Her Rakish Duke
Samantha looked at her uncle, hoping for support, but saw only resignation in his eyes.
“It may be the best solution,” Uncle William said quietly.
“Uncle—”
He could not possibly be considering this, could he?
“Samantha,” he said gently, “consider your sister’s future. Consider our family’s reputation. This scandal will touch everyone connected to us.”
Samantha’s gaze flew to Jane, who was watching the exchange with wide, troubled eyes. The guilt suffused through her system, freezing her blood. Jane’s debut season, her chances for a good match, her entire future—all of it hanging in the balance because of Samantha’s reckless search tonight.
“Jane,” she whispered.
“I’ll be fine,” Jane said softly, but her voice shook slightly. “Don’t worry about me.”
But Samantha could see the fear in her sister’s eyes, the understanding of what this scandal would mean for them. And she knew, with sinking certainty, that there was only one choice that would protect the person she loved most in the world.
Slowly, she hung her head.
“I accept,” she said, her voice barely audible. “I accept your proposal, Your Grace.”
“Excellent,” Uncle William said, his relief evident. “Your Grace, shall we discuss the arrangements?”
“I’ll handle everything,” the duke said. “I’ll obtain the special license, arrange for the ceremony, and ensure that the transition is as smooth as possible. You’ll hear from me within the day regarding the details.”
He bowed formally to her uncle, then to Jane, and finally to Samantha. But she couldn’t bring herself to look at him, couldn’t bear to see whatever expression might be on his face.
“Good evening,” he said, and then he was gone, leaving behind only the faint scent of his cologne and the weight of what she’d just agreed to.
Samantha remained seated, staring at her hands folded in her lap, while her uncle and sister spoke in low voices around her. She felt as if she were drowning, pulled under by forces beyond her control.
In the space of a single evening, she had gone from protective sister to reluctant bride, bound to a man who had made it clear that what she remembered as significant had been merely an evening’s entertainment.
And now she would spend the rest of her life wondering what she had gotten herself into.
CHAPTER 4
“Are you ready, Samantha?” Uncle William’s voice was soft but steady, betraying only the faintest hint of nerves.
Samantha’s fingers trembled ever so slightly as she adjusted the folds of her ivory silk gown, smoothing the delicate lace at her wrist.
The chapel was modest, but its pale stone walls carried the quiet dignity such an occasion demanded. She stood behind the church’s threshold, only a few steps away from the aisle, her heart a steady drum beneath the weight of expectations.
Her uncle stood behind her a kind but measured expression. His silvered hair was neatly combed, and he wore the sober black coat befitting a man of his station.
She offered a small nod, fixing her gaze ahead toward the open doorway.
The murmurs of the few assembled guests hushed as the organist struck the first solemn notes of the processional.
Samantha’s breath caught, and her heart quickened. Not from hope, but from the stark reality of what was to come.
“Let us go, then.” Her uncle took her arm gently, guiding her forward.
They moved together down the aisle, measured steps on the worn stone floor, past the few familiar faces who had come to witness the arrangement more than the romance. The soft rustle of silk and the tap of polished shoes filled the quiet air.
At the altar, the vicar stood, a kindly man whose measured tone belied the gravity of the moment.
Uncle William turned to Samantha and gave a small, encouraging smile. “It is my honor to give you into the care of His Grace.”
