Page 88 of A Duke for Adela
Saved her from a dire fate?
Was her friend in mortal danger?
“Ready, Adela?” The wind was brisk as Ambrose helped her down, but Eloise’s maid had attended to her hair so it was done up quite securely and would not fall out of its pins no matter how hard her veil tossed about in the breeze.
“Ambrose, you’ll never guess what Syd just told me. She said her life was in peril…well, dire fate is what she said. I think something bad would have happened to her if Octavian had not shown up when he did last night.”
He frowned as he nodded. “I’ll convey the information to Mr. Barrow. He’s here along with a half dozen of his runners. Syd will be safe while she is with us.”
“What about afterward?”
“Octavian and Julius will look out for both your friends, as will Mr. Barrow and his men. I will keep them on to guard her night and day, if it is called for.” He still had his hands around her waist and now released her to lead her into the church which was already packed with guests. “Adela, we are about to be married. Do you think you can concentrate on us for the next few minutes?”
She reached up on tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek. “Yes, Ambrose. I shall think of nothing but you for the rest of the day. You look wonderful, by the way.”
He caressed her cheek. “So do you.”
The ceremony lasted almost an hour, but most of it passed in a blur for Adela. This moment felt so much like a dream, she standing beside the handsomest man in England and about to become his wife. The flower arrangements in the church were magnificent, all handled by Eloise, Phoebe, and Sophie Farthingale who had become adept at planning hasty marriages for her own family.
She felt a pang of regret in not having had more to do with the planning, but what could she have added to any of it? She knew about skulls and bones, not flowers, table settings, or the proper menu for a sumptuous wedding banquet. Her friend, Lady Viola, had made certain to take charge of the wedding breakfast menu. Last night’s supper at the home of Lord and Lady Trent had been the best she had ever tasted. It was all Viola’s doing, so she knew the food for today’s celebration would be just as splendid.
What she did regret was not spending enough time with her parents, but they were caught up in the social whirl as much as she was, and had little time for her. Nor was her mother disappointed to miss out on the planning. Her parents had eloped because neither of them cared to wait months before marrying. Her mother never regretted her lack of an elegant wedding, for she had been an avid bluestocking in her day and disdained the heady whirl oftonparties.
As for the wedding night, she would soon find out all there was to know about it from Ambrose himself.
Eloise had tried to explain what happened when a husbandclaimedhis wife, but Ambrose had laughed heartily when she repeated the advice given. Her mother had tried to educate her about such things before the start of her first Season. However, their conversation immediately reverted to birds and whether the male or female snipe sat on the eggs before they hatched, so that was not very helpful.
Ambrose would explain it better than her mother or Eloise ever could.
“Do you, Adela Swift, take Ambrose, Duke of Huntsford as your husband, to love and cherish…”
“I do,” Adela said, hardly able to get the words out while her heart was beating so rapidly and her lungs felt as though they were about to burst.
This is truly happening.
Ambrose grabbed hold of her hand when the minister turned to him and intoned the similar question. “Do you, Ambrose, Duke of Huntsford…” He then droned on, listing a string of Ambrose’s other titles and knighthood honors.
Dear heaven.
Adela’s father was a knight, but nothing to compare with all the knighthoods Ambrose held. She ought to have realized he was not merely a duke, but also an earl and viscount. Not to mention his knightly honors which included Order of the Garter, St. Michael’s Cross, and three other Orders with saints in their names.
She really had to study herDebrett’s Peerage.
Ambrose seemed to know exactly what she was thinking and found her dismay amusing. She knew this was one of the reasons he liked her, this utter disregard she had for titles and other grants of prominence.
Of course, she would have to teach herself quickly now that she was to be his duchess. Miss Adela Swift’s ignorance could be overlooked. Duchess Adela would be expected to know these things and those in power would be insulted if she did not.
Memorizing facts and statistics was rather easy for her.
She would master all the rules of precedence, titles, and terms of address given a few days of solid reading.
After their exchange of “I do” the minister pronounced them husband and wife.
Ambrose wrapped her up in his arms and kissed her with heartfelt joy. “Welcome to the Thorne family, Duchess Adela.”
She smiled up at him. “Thank you for inviting me in. I love you, Your Grace.”
They had no chance to say more as friends and family swarmed around them. To her relief, no one in the immediate royal family was in attendance. A crisis of a sort had come up, not that Adela wished ill on anyone. She hoped the crisis would pass quickly, but was glad not to have the pressure of royalty at her wedding beyond a few minor representatives, the most exalted of whom was an earl who was cousin to the king.
