Page 68 of A Duke to Undo her
Josephine and Cassius turned to gaze at one another as the the organ began to play the final music of the service. The pews of the church were already emptying fast as onlookers hurried outside to ready their rose petals and rice. Josephine waved a hand at her bridesmaids – Madeline, Rose and Madeline’s little sister Melinda – indicating that they too might join the gathering before the church doors.
“Married…” Josephine whispered to her new husband, in tones of love and wonder. “We are married!”
“Indeed we are, Duchess Josephine!” Cassius laughed, running his hand through his dark hair and ruining what Josephine imagined had been Benedict’s best attempts to tame it before the brothers left Ashbourne Castle that morning.
Josephine joined his happy laughter, a few more petals falling around her shoulders from the circlet of flowers in her loosely pinned hair, and then took her new husband’s arm to follow the vicar towards where the room where the marriage registry waited to be signed.
Constance’s white silk summer dress had been quickly altered to fit and the forest green sash below Josephine’s bosom matched the stems of her bouquet and the leaves in her flower-bedecked autumn hair. Their mother’s antique emerald earrings echoed the sparkle of her green jeweled eyes.
“You do look to me more like the goddess Flora than a duchess,” the duke observed. “I was thinking of this every time I looked at you during the service.”
“Did the goddess Flora have a husband?” Josephine queried. “I will only consent to be a goddess who is well married to a handsome god with dark hair and deep blue eyes. No other is permitted to carry me off in his chariot!”
Josephine might now be a duchess, but she was still the same high-spirited yet sensitive young woman who had entered the church beside Victor an hour earlier.
“Yes, I am sure that the goddess Flora was very well married indeed,” Cassius responded to his new wife with a glint in his eye. “I shall prove it to you soon enough…”
Their intimate conversation fell silent as they reached small room where Benedict Emerton and Dowager Duchess Nerissa already waited to witness their signatures in the marriage registry. Both were golden-haired, well-dressed and joyful in expression.
“I promise I did my best to make my big brother presentable for you this morning,” Benedict said with mock weariness as he embraced Josephine and his mother kissed Cassius. “You have married a wonderful man, Josephine, but one for whom neatness of dress somehow never endures.”
Josephine thought that Benedict had been quite wonderful too. Despite declaring himself to have been bowled over after receiving Cassius’ unexpected note, he had immediately come to London and wished them well with heartiest conviction. Benedict had also done everything he could to facilitate their speedy wedding day, winning over even Constance with his enthusiasm and charm. No brother could have done more.
“Thank you, Benedict, but I do like Cassius best just as he is,” Josephine declared, ruffling the duke’s thick, dark hair herselfwith ingenuous delight, knowing now that she had every right to do so. “We are matched.”
Now the dowager duchess embraced Josephine in her turn.
“I hoped this day would come, my dear,” the older woman told her, with misty tears of happiness in her eyes. “When I met you, I didn’t know immediately that you should be Cassius’ bride, but I felt there was something very important about you. When I saw you together at Ashbourne Castle, I realized that neither of you would ever be happy without the other.”
“Thank you for helping us to understand that,” Josephine told her, hugging her mother-in-law warmly, knowing now of the difficult conversation Nerissa had initiated with her older son, sparking his sudden and very public proposal.
“Do not thank me. It is enough to see how much you love and care for Cassius, Josephine. He has needed you for so long, far longer than he has known you.”
Josephine nodded, a lump in her throat.
“I need Cassius too. I shall always love him,” she assured the dowager who had now stepped back to dab at her eyes with a handkerchief.
“Your Graces, the register is ready,” announced the vicar, the large book, quill and ink pot having been arranged at a desk by ayoung assistant. “His Grace first, then the duchess, then myself, and finally the witnesses…”
After the formalities were complete, and the vicar had gone outside to wait with the rest of the congregation, the Duke of Ashbourne consulted his pocket watch thoughtfully and then replaced it in his pocket.
“It is only half-past ten. There is no hurry for the wedding breakfast, is there? I think Josephine and I might drive the scenic route back to Ashbourne Castle, through the woods.”
“That does sound romantic,” replied Duchess Nerissa, her smiling expression growing nostalgic. “I remember when Henry first brought me to Ashbourne Castle. Our wedding was in the springtime and all the blossoms on the drive were falling into our open carriage as we came up the driveway. So very lovely…What are the timings for the day, Benedict?”
“Champagne and canapés in the upper garden on arrival, and then luncheon and cake at one o’clock,” Benedict Emerton answered smartly. “After that, it’s punch, lawn games and dancing until our guests go home, fall over or retire peacefully. Mother and I will leave for London tomorrow morning at the same time as overnight guests. The bride and groom may do as they will in any case.”
“Well then, I shall certainly take Josephine home through the woods,” grinned the duke, offering Josephine his arm once more for the walk to the church door. “Unless you would prefer a less romantic return to Ashbourne Castle?”
Josephine shook her head, drawing close to Cassius again and wanting only to be alone together. A romantic drive sounded far better than champagne and canapés.
“Do let Constance, Ophelia and Vera know that we will be back for luncheon, Benedict,” she remembered to tell her brother-in-law. “If I say that we are going for a drive now, they will only fuss but I would not want them to think we have run off!”
“It is too late for Gretna Green,” Benedict laughed. “The vicar has already put paid to that plan, although I for one would have loved to have such a story in the family. Yes, I will let your sisters know.”
On the other side of the church doors, loud cheers and a rain of flower petals and rice awaited the happy couple on the steps and the short walk to their waiting carriage. Most of the village seemed to have turned out to see the Duke of Ashbourne’s new bride and they made their approval clear in the happy clamor they raised as Josephine came down the steps.
The congratulations of relatives and friends on both sides of the family were more civilized but no less heartfelt.
