The Scoundrel Duke of her Heart by Violet Hamers
Chapter Fifteen
His bride was late. Nicholas’s feet tapped the marble floor of the church as his gaze periodically went to the doors. He no longer wanted Jenny to change her mind. He wanted to marry her.
His grandmother appeared to have invited the entirety of London to the wedding and the pews were practically spilling with guests. In his six and twenty years of life, he had never been this anxious about anything. Thus, he glanced at the doors once more and ran his damp palm over his waistcoat for the umpteenth time that morning.
Had she received his note? Would she come? Had she changed her mind? All these questions collided in his mind and he decided to distract himself by looking in his grandmother’s direction.
“Beautiful day,” the portly Lord Hambert, who was sitting on the dowager’s left, remarked. “Thank the heavens for sunshine today.”
The dowager twisted her cane. “It is Seaton’s wedding. The clouds would not dare.” Nicholas did not care for the beautiful weather. He thought only of Jenny and how late she was.
“It appears the bride is late,” Lord Hambert observed.
“A bride is never late,” his grandmother returned, her gaze meeting his. “A bride may take as much time as she wishes.”
Nicholas was still not convinced and when the church doors opened, he half-expected someone to rush in and announce that the bride had run away. Instead, he was filled with relief at the sight of Jenny on her father’s arm.
She was a vision in a lavender dress and his nerves melted away. He had meant every word he had written to her that morning. He wished to make amends and restore their fractured friendship. And for the first time in his life, he had the sense that he was doing something right.
Her hand trembled slightly when she placed it on his arm and she did not look up at him but he smiled down at her nonetheless. Upon turning to face the priest, he reached with his other hand to squeeze her hand on his arm in a reassuring manner.
“You look lovely,” he murmured.
“You don’t look bad yourself,” she returned, seeming to relax.
The ceremony went on smoothly and when the time came for him to kiss her, he let his lips linger on hers. He might not get another chance to kiss her again. It was noon when they arrived at Seaton House for the wedding breakfast that the dowager used to show how proud she was to present the duke and duchess.
“I don’t know about you but I quite feel like a creature on display,” he said to Jenny, more in an effort to draw her out.
She smiled. “So do I. Do you think we can find something sweet to distract us at that table?”
Nicholas’s chest lightened. Her question was like an olive branch and he took it eagerly. “Let us make a break for it before Persephone’s attention returns to us.”
“You dare call her by her name?” Jenny’s smile was broader now.
“She cannot hear me, now can she?” He led her to one of the tables filled with food and first handed her a glass of champagne. Then followed it with a cake that looked like it had an excess of glaze.
“Persephone is an interesting name,” she said.
“She has none of Persephone’s charms though. If Hades sees her, I have no doubt he will run.”
She laughed and started to raise her glass to her lips. He gently stayed her hand. “Let us make a toast first.”
“What do you wish to toast to?”
“A new life.” He raised his glass and she did the same. “And friendship.” Her demeanor appeared more pleasant and he grinned.
“There you are,” Lord Hambert boomed, joining them. “My felicitations, Your Graces.”
“Thank you, Lord Hambert,” Nicholas responded almost pleasantly.
“Now is the time to socialize, my dear,” he continued when Nicholas thought he would leave them. “There shall be an expansion soon.”
Jenny tensed on his arm, reading the meaning behind his remark. “Lord Hambert,” his teeth were clenched as he spoke but Jenny squeezed his arm and he decided to ignore the man. “I believe some of the guests are in want of your attention,” he said instead.
“Don’t mind him,” Jenny murmured after he had left.
“He was being disrespectful.”
She chuckled. “I rather think he was jesting. Nearly every word of felicitation we received was wrapped in a suggestive joke.” She bit into her cake and he sucked in his breath to keep his thoughts on anything but her mouth.
“Dance with me.” He took the champagne from her hand and set it down as soon as a new tune began to play.
“You have claimed two dances now.” She chuckled. “You might not be able to claim a third.”
“You are my wife now and I can have as many dances as I wish and there is nothing society can do about it.” Her color rose to a delightful shade of pink.
When their dance was concluded, he walked her to where her father stood and she gave him a grateful smile. She needed the respite and would be saying goodbye to him soon. “I thought you would like to spend some time with him.”
“I do. That is very considerate of you. Thank you.” There was another point in his favor. And he was tempted to hum to himself.
“Where is your wife?” The dowager accosted him, blocking his path with her cane.
“With her father,” he replied smoothly. “I have given him the honor of the country dance.”
“She should be with you at all times.” She threw him a displeased look that did not affect him in the least.
“She is my wife, not my prisoner.” He lowered his voice. “Keeping her with me at all times is not going to hasten the coming of an heir.”
She began to express her displeasure but Nicholas did not hear a thing as his attention was arrested by someone from his past. The last time he had seen that face had been two years ago, off English soil.
The person held his astonished gaze and his feet began to carry him forward only to be halted by a couple passing in front of him. When he looked again, the face was gone, leaving him with something heavy inside.
This was no imagination, and how merciless of the past to visit him on his wedding day.
* * *
“You look lovely,” Daphne said, joining Jenny and her father. She had just finished dancing with Ernest. “Would you mind if I steal her from you for a moment, my lord?” she asked her father.
“Not at all, Daphne.”
Daphne pulled her aside and scanned her face worriedly. “Are you well?”
Jenny smiled. “I am. My nerves are gone.” She had nearly changed her mind that morning about marrying Nicholas but now she knew it would have been a mistake.
She was not the sort to read meaning into things but the kiss they had shared at the church gave her hope. Perhaps Nicholas was avoiding something and had contrived to avoid her because of it.
“Good. I dislike seeing you nervous. I am going to dance with the gentleman near the terrace doors now,” Daphne said.
Jenny searched for the gentleman in question but saw the face she had seen on Bond Street after stepping out of Raphael’s shop. All doubt of its reality was removed from her mind and she hoped the person did not bring any trouble with them.
