Page 45 of A Duke's Unwanted Bride
“Oh.” Nothing could have prepared Warner for the sight of Adele as she entered the ballroom on the day of their wedding. “She will be the death of me.”
Her dress was the yellow of sunflowers, and the warmth of it radiated off her as she walked towards him. It was like nothing he had ever seen before, a stunning mix of continental and British fashion.Did she design that? She is so talented.
His heart swelled as he took in the dress; the way it hugged her form made the rest of the world fade away. Her feet barely made a sound on the carpet, and she moved as though she were gliding through the air rather than walking.
As she reached him, she lifted the veil from her face, and Warner let out a hiss of breath between his closed teeth. He held an arm out to her, guiding her up to the dais.
“Is the dress all right?” Adele murmured, the faintest crease appearing on her brow.
Warner nodded, his voice slightly hoarse as he said, “It is perfect. You are perfect.”
Spots of colour appeared on her cheeks, and he gave him a shy smile. “You look rather good yourself, Your Grace.”
“I doubt I could hold a candle to you.” He shook his head wonderingly. “You are utterly breathtaking.”
“And you play your part well.” She gave him a small smile and squeezed his arm with her fingers. “You even had me fooled for a moment.”
Warner let out a soft growl, but before he could say another word, the priest began to speak, and Adele’s eyes left his. Warner turned, the molasses in his head ebbing away now that her eyes were not fixed on his.
“Dearly beloved,” the priest’s voice echoed around the room, “we are gathered here today in the sight of God…”
Warner let the words wash over him. He could still feel the faint touch of Adele’s fingers on his arm, and the warmth burned into his senses like a brand. His eyes drifted towards her. His fingers stretched and then clenched, and he tried to keep his focus on the priest.
The priest’s words pulled him to the present. “Warner Scott, Duke of Scarfield, wilt thou have this woman to thy wedded wife, to live together after God's ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony? Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honour, and keep her in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?”
Comfort her.The words rang through his head. He thought of the pain in her face when she talked of her family, the way she had trembled when her sisters had declined their wedding invitation.Comfort her.
He saw his cousin out of the corner of his eye.Honour.Was he doing the right thing? He wanted to keep her safe, but he knew that was not all of it. He swallowed, licking his dry lips.
“I will.” His voice echoed around the hall.
The priest nodded sagely, turning to Adele. “Lady Adelaide Rothwell, Marchioness of Kidlington, wilt thou have this man to thy wedded husband, to live together after God's ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony? Wilt thou obey him, and serve him, love, honour, and keep him in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?”
He saw her brow crease as the priest spoke of obeying him, and his lip quirked upwards. Adele gave her answering, “I will.”
“Do not get any ideas,” Adele whispered to him as the priest began to speak again. “I am about as likely to obey you as you are to cherish me.”
Warner arched an eyebrow at her, and she rolled her eyes at him. Their unspoken exchange sent a flutter through his chest, followed by a wave of guilt.What am I doing?
He felt as though he were in a dream, moments flashing from one until the next. The priest was placing Adele’s hand in his, and he clenched his teeth as a jolt ran through him at her touch. The softness of her skin against his.
He swallowed. “I, Warner Scott, Duke of Scarfield take thee, Lady Adelaide Rothwell —” his breath caught on the name, the reminder that she had been his cousin’s bride.They were not in love. And there is nothing between us. I am not doing anything wrong.
He forced himself to continue, “Lady Adelaide Rothwell, Marchioness of Kidlington, to my wedded wife…”
His words sounded far away. All he could think of was his cousin and the feel of Adele’s hand in his own. Her fingers squeezed his, and he let out a breath, the words coming easier now. The vows tumbled from him before he could think.
“… for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, til death do us part.” He gave her a small smile, and she smiled back.
Then it was her turn. There was no catch in her voice as she spoke her promises, no hesitation. Her voice was clear and carrying, full of conviction and warmth.
As she stopped speaking, he leaned towards her. “It seems we both play our part rather well. You got through those vows with barely any trouble.”
“It is not my first wedding.” Her smile slipped slightly, and she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.
He felt the weight of the locket she had given him against his chest, and he touched it out of habit. She caught the movement and arched an eyebrow at him, her eyes widening as she realised what he was touching.
The priest cleared his throat, and Warner realised that he was waiting for him.Idiot, pull yourself together Warner!He took the ring and slipped it onto Adele’s finger.
