Page 91 of The Duke Who Loved Me (The Duke's Estates 1)

James struggled with his temper. It seemed that Henry was trying to discourage him from marrying Cecelia. Why would he do that? Did Henry—Henry!—think that Cecelia had been tainted by the gossip? If so, he thought less of his friend. He didn’t want to do that. “I would be glad to see Prince Karl paid back for his infamy, through some other agency than mine,” James said carefully. “I shan’t have anything to do with it.”

“That’s very…astute of you.”

Did he sound surprised? “Were you still expecting that I would waylay him some dark night and beat him senseless?” asked James dryly. The man who’d struck Prince Karl after their fencing bout seemed distant to him now.

“I simply thought you should know about Kandler’s plans. In case…that is.”

James waited.

Henry looked uncomfortable. “You began talking of marriage to Miss Vainsmede as a kind of…contest with the prince.”

That wasn’t right. He’d asked her before he knew the fellow existed. He thought he’d told Henry that. But Prince Karl had…altered his courtship. That much was true. As well as unfairly maligning Cecelia. Suddenly, James wondered if she’d changed her mind because of that. She’d refused him, rather firmly, and then she’d turned about and proposed to him after the prince tried to ruin her reputation. Many thought Cecelia very fortunate to have “snagged” him and redeemed her social position. He’d heard that said of her, perhaps had been meant to overhear it. She’d mentioned the rumors, of course, in case he wished to withdraw. But had it been a maneuver? To goad him into moving ahead?

No! Cecelia wasn’t that sort of person. She possessed the highest moral character. She’d changed her mind because…

James realized that he could not definitively complete this sentence, and that, unlike all the rest, worried him. She’d tossed his foolish arguments back at him and spoken of a deal, the advantages to them both. But she’d rejected those ideas the first time. Was she really marrying him to save her reputation? He was happy to do so, naturally. He would have eradicated the prince if that had been possible. But there was more involved in their union. Was there not?

He was having doubts, James realized. He wasn’t accustomed to doubts. He never had them. And he didn’t like them. At all. It was ridiculous. This whole match had been his idea. He refused to doubt.

“Hasty marriages do go wrong,” said Henry.

His match was not hasty. He’d known Cecelia for years. Yet never thought of marrying her until the responsibilities of a dukedom descended upon him, a dry inner voice pointed out. And a rival appeared. The last few weeks had felt rather…headlong. Henry thought James was marrying out of pique, or an irresistible desire to win a competition. He suspected his grandmother thought the same. And others? Perhaps. All of society thought they could have an opinion and exercise their wagging tongues, it seemed. Marriage was not simply an agreement between two people. “The prince has nothing to do with my wedding plans,” he said in an even tone.

His friend nodded. “All right.”

“Do you not wish to stand up with me, Henry?” James was conscious of a mournful annoyance. Why had Henry thought it necessary to roil the waters in this way? “If you would rather be excused…”

“Of course I would not.”

“You seem reluctant.”

“I just wanted you to know…to be certain.”

“And if I wasn’t?”

“Then I’d help you get out of it.”

How had Henry imagined that might happen? A gentleman could not draw back from an engagement. He’d procured a special license, engaged a parson. And he didn’twishto cry off. He couldn’t imagine being married to anyone other than Cecelia. He would simply like to understand that she felt the same.

Seventeen

Cecelia woke late on her wedding day, though she was always up early. She came swimming up from a sea of dreams she did not remember. Thus it became a rush to dress in the sea-green gown she’d chosen for the ceremony, find bonnet and gloves, and ride over to the church. There was no time to wonder if she’d made the right decision or worry about the future.

Her father and aunt, who accompanied her, added a sense of disconnection as the three of them so seldom traveled anywhere together. They commented on the fine weather and the sight of a climbing rose as if this was any carriage ride on any late spring day. They did not seem concerned that with this ceremony she was leaving them forever. Though Cecelia had felt rather differently about her father since his story of meeting Mama, he remained exactly the same.

They came to the church and found James and Henry Deeping waiting there. Cecelia hadn’t invited anyone else. Once she was married, at some future time, she would celebrate with all her friends. For now she preferred that word not get out.

The priest was ready. They stood before him and heard the familiar phrases of the wedding service. Cecelia spoke her vows clearly, as did James. She’d chosen this, she thought as she signed the register. There was no cause for unease. And yet, with a few words spoken and a signature on a piece of paper, she’d taken on a lifetime of duties and expectations. Perhaps pleasures and joys as well. Of course, those. She loved James. She’d dreamed of being his wife. But she hadn’t thought it would feel so…tentative even as it was also a personal revolution.

And then, in less than an hour’s time, it was done. In the eyes of society, her status was changed. She was a married woman and a peeress of the realm. Their small party came out of the church and paused on the cobblestones before it.

“Where are you off to now?” asked her father, once again as if it was any ordinary morning and she might be planning to make calls or take a walk in the park.

This was the other dilemma. Cecelia didn’t know. Ned had picked up a valise she and her maid had packed and taken it away, but he hadn’t known anything about James’s plan. And James had evaded her questions about it in the most vexing way. The immediate future was a blank. A touch of dizziness assailed her. She had never been in this position in her life. She was so accustomed to making order.

“Your chariot awaits,” James said. Looking terribly handsome under the midmorning sun, he offered his arm.

Feeling oddly in need of the support, Cecelia took it. He led her to a smart traveling carriage. The others trailed after them. “Why does it have someone else’s coat of arms on the door?” she asked.

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