Page 9 of Her Lion of a Duke
Beatrice had made the cakes herself, and though Cecilia ate one to show her appreciation, she could not eat anything else. She did not know what to do with herself.
“I wish I had been in attendance,” Beatrice sighed wistfully. “It must have been wonderful.”
“It was not. It was a rushed affair, and there is no romance to be had.”
“Come now, Cecilia. Anyone can see that the two of you share something.”
“Yes, friendship. Why is that so impossible to believe?”
“Because I have eyes. You have always appreciated my honesty, and this is me telling you the truth. This is a good match, and you will be happy once you stop thinking like this.”
“I cannot help it. I never focused during my etiquette lessons, nor did I ever think to pay attention when learning about the duties of a duchess. I never expected to be one!”
“And now, here you are. You can regret not paying attention, or you can make the effort now.”
Cecilia blinked. Beatrice had always been the softest of her friends, never truly having much of a thought about anything until they were alone together. She was easy to like, but that came with her not having many opinions.
Until it came to her match, it appeared.
“You are not yourself.”
“Nor are you,” Beatrice countered. “Besides, now that I am to be alone, it is time that I spoke my mind.”
“Yes, I should like to see you find a husband like that.”
“It has worked for you.”
“Yes, for it just so happens that I know a gentleman who does not need a perfect wife.”
“Then I shall be just as fortunate. Regardless, now is not the time to discuss my prospects, but yours. How are the wedding preparations going?”
“It will be the smallest of affairs, so there truly is not much to do. The banns have been read, and within the month, I shall become a wife.”
“You do not seem very excited.”
“Because I am not. It will merely be another day, and then I will return home and be done with it. Truly, there is not much more to say.”
Beatrice rolled her eyes, biting into another one of her glazed biscuits. “If you insist. Have you told Emma and Dorothy yet?”
“I have written letters, but I have not yet sent them. I am not happy with what was written.”
“They should be arriving in town soon. I believe Dorothy will be here within the week. You ought to invite them to your wedding.”
“I do not believe there will be any guests. We shall say our vows and leave.”
Cecilia was certain of it, but the morning of her wedding day, she was being laced into her corsets and thinking of everything and nothing all at once.
Her friends had indeed arrived, and they had been invited and had accepted. She looked into the mirror and frowned, wondering why she was so disappointed that they would be there.
She loved her friends; she always had. But something about them seeing her enter a fake marriage caused her a great deal of unease. She was not going to pretend to love Leonard, and if her friends asked, she would tell them precisely what had happened, but it felt as though she had disappointed them.
She had always been headstrong, determined to be true to herself and to never bend simply because a man wanted her to. Her friends had always admired her for it, even if they did not understand, and now she could not help but feel as though she had let them down.
“You look lovely,” Clara said softly as she entered the room.
“I look miserable.”
“Then perhaps you should smile?” she suggested. “I know that this is rather rushed, but it was your choice. Surely you are happy about it?”
