To Tempt a Scandalous Lord by Liana De la Rosa
Chapter Ten
Alicia stood in the vestibule of the church, her heart beating so loudly she was afraid the guests might hear its echo amongst the rafters. Was she doing the right thing?
Every essay she’d written was done out of a conviction that politicians should be accountable to the public, and transparent in how they worked to benefit the public. And Alicia was about to walk down the aisle and enter into the most sacred of covenants when she had not been transparent herself.
The urge to flee, to toss her bouquet on the sideboard and escape through the back entrance, made her legs tremble, and she screwed her eyes closed until the feeling subsided.
Peeking around the doorframe, her anxious gaze skipped over the pews filled with guests, to the man standing at the end of the aisle. With his dark hair perfectly tousled, his attire impeccably tailored to his broad, strong frame, Niall looked imposing.
He was to be her husband. When she left this church, she would be Lady Inverray, and one day in the future, she would be the Duchess of Kilmorow.
Alicia gripped her small bouquet of lilies of the valley tight in her hand.
But there was no turning back now. The banns had been read, the engagement ball celebrated to great success, and now the interior of St. Paul’s Cathedral was packed to the rafters with the ton elite, ready to see the well-respected marquess finally take a bride.
At that moment, Flora turned in her seat to look toward the back of the church. When their eyes met, the marchioness grinned.
Even if she and Niall were only ever able to be friends, she took comfort in the fact that she would gain a family from this union. His sisters had been welcoming and supportive, and when Juliana had insisted that she and Ashwood would host the engagement ball at their grand Mayfair townhome, Alicia had swallowed down tears of gratitude.
And one day they would have children. That promise staid her nerves and hardened her resolve.
Niall’s portion of the church was crowded with a collection of illustrious MPs, dukes, duchesses, and other notable peers. Alicia recognized no one on her side of the aisle…except for Niall’s sisters, who were seated in the first row. Their friends, Lord and Lady Firthwell and the Duke and Duchess of Darington, joined them.
She was overwhelmed with that show of support, and flashed a wobbly smile back at Flora.
The strains from the organ echoed through the chamber.
Alicia swallowed. It was time.
“Are you ready, my dear?” Effia asked as she slipped into the room.
Pivoting, she allowed her shoulders to relax as she met her friend’s calm gaze. “It will be well…yes?”
“Of course it will. You’ve considered every scenario, and we’ve discussed ways for you to continue your pursuits in a discreet manner.” Effia grasped her hands and held them tightly. “You deserve to be here, Alicia, because you’re brave and beautiful and smart. You’re dressed in this stylish new gown and look every inch an equal to every toff in that church. And you’re going to walk down that aisle with your head held high and marry that handsome man who’s waiting for you. And one day he’ll give you lovely babies and that family you’ve desired.”
Tears burned her eyes and Effia suddenly grew blurry in her vision. Alicia was so grateful that her friend was here to see her off for this next adventure in her life.
Producing a handkerchief, Effia offered it to her. “Only happy tears from this point on. Happy tears only.”
“These are happy tears,” Alicia sniffled, pressing the cloth to her cheeks and running it gently under her eyes. “I’m happy you’re here with me. It means so much.”
Effia nodded but didn’t speak, and the sparkling light in her dark eyes told Alicia she was just as touched by the moment as she was.
“Now are you ready to marry that man, or do you need to have another cry?”
Wiping her cheek one last time, Alicia squared her shoulders. “I’m ready.”
Gripping her bouquet with tight fingers, she inhaled deeply, stepped to the head of the aisle, and began her walk toward her future.
Somehow Alicia managed to put one foot in front of the other, no matter how her legs trembled or how the many eyes of the assembled guests bore into her. She felt detached from her body, experiencing the moment as a spectator from above.
Then she arrived at the altar and raised her gaze to meet Niall’s somber gray eyes, and the warmth she glimpsed there jerked her back to earth.
Alicia recited her vows from rote memory, her recitation stiff and unemotional. Yet, her body was brimful of chaotic emotions. Admiration, respect, and desire clashed about in her chest like a tumultuous thunderstorm. Only Niall’s steady gaze kept her tethered to the moment. To him.
A scant fifteen minutes later, Alicia was a married woman. Once again. She could only pray that this time around, things would turn out different. In fact, she would make sure of it.
Before she could get her bearings, the bishop pronounced her and Niall husband and wife. Niall bussed a fleeting kiss to her cheek, and as she was processing the feel of his lips on her skin, Niall turned to escort her back down the aisle.
Her second wedding passed just as quickly as her first, and yet this experience left her decidedly at sixes and sevens.
Alicia could barely make sense of her emotions as she watched Niall sign his name to the marriage certificate. The Duke and Duchess of Ashwood were with them to sign as witnesses, and the duchess made a steady stream of conversation about her observations of the ceremony.
“I’m surprised by how many people were in attendance. I knew people would attend, what with the rumors still circulating about what transpired at the Talbot ball, but I had not expected quite that many.”
Some choice rumors had refused to die, even after her and Niall’s engagement appeared in the papers. Almost all of those she’d heard pertained to Niall and his Scots heritage, and the unfairness of the accusations made her want to scream. He had been nothing but honorable in all her dealings with him, and that a simple accident between them was used as a weapon to villainize him made her hands curl into fists.
Perhaps she could use her words and essays to chase these insidious rumors away for good? The idea merited further thought.
“Of course there was to be a large crowd,” Ashwood said, tweaking one of his wife’s curls. “People wanted to meet the woman who has finally won Inverray’s hand.”
“Perhaps it’s the other way around,” Alicia couldn’t help but to interject. “Perhaps it was his lordship that won my hand.”
“That’s the way of it,” the duchess chuckled, her grin for her husband. “I suspect the crowd wanted to see the woman who finally convinced the Marquess of Inverray to marry.”
“Or ensnared him in the parson’s trap. It is a much better story than the truth,” Niall said with a shrug, not meeting her eyes. “Marriages of convenience to avoid a scandal are a tale as old as time, and no one would be entertained by our version of the story.”
Bile surged up her throat. Niall’s tone had been…dismissive. Casual. Dare she say, bitter? This marriage may have come about under duress, but she thought they were in agreement that they could make their union a pleasant one. To describe it now in such succinct terms left her teeth on edge.
Snatching the pen from his hand, Alicia leaned forward to sign her name. She didn’t need anyone to explain what the license meant and how difficult it would be to dissolve the marriage, should it ever come to that.
The duke and duchess signed directly after her, and she appreciated their eagerness to see it done. Perhaps they sensed her annoyance or were annoyed themselves. Their reasons were not important. When the paperwork was completed, she thanked them with a smile and fled back into the church.
Effia greeted her the moment she re-entered, and walked with her back to the vestibule where she had first gathered her wits before the ceremony.
“What happened? The wedding was lovely, and you looked happy,” her friend whispered once they were ensconced in the small room.
Alicia pressed her lips together for a long moment, willing her emotions to calm. “What do I look like now, then?”
Effia considered her with a puckered brow. “Like you don’t know whether to cry or snap at someone.”
She released a bark of laughter, slapping a hand to her mouth. “That’s remarkably accurate. He can just be frustrating sometimes.”
“So he’s acting like a husband.” Effia crossed her arms over her chest. “Or so I’ve been told, of course.”
Leaning her head back against the wall, Alicia toyed with her gloves. “Do you think anyone would mind if I just stayed here for the rest of the day?”
“I certainly would,” a masculine voice growled from the doorway. “We were just married and already my wife is plotting her escape.”
…
Niall felt a measure of satisfaction when Alicia flushed to her pretty gold crown and dropped her gaze. He was certain their guests were waiting for them to proceed to the wedding breakfast, and if he were expected to parade before them as a happy bridegroom, he would not be doing it alone.
He watched as his new wife attempted to rally. “There’s no plotting being done. Effia was simply helping me with my skirts.”
Flashing a brief smile at the young Black woman, he returned his gaze to Alicia. “It appears your attire is in order, so are you ready to depart now, Lady Inverray?”
His bride appeared to startle, and Niall knew it was because of his address. But it seemed appropriate that he would be the first to call her by her new name as he was the one who gave it to her.
Her chest expanded as she inhaled, and Niall watched in fascination as the tension leached from her bones. The smile she eventually graced him with was broad…if a tad brittle.
“Seeing as I don’t have a good excuse to flee from the church now, I suppose I may as well enjoy the breakfast.”
Without another word, she marched out of the small vestibule, pausing at the main cathedral doors. Lifting her chin, Alicia glanced back at him with raised brows.
Niall bit back a sigh. He hadn’t meant to annoy his new bride, but her piqued emotions were visible in her clipped tone and firm jaw. Still, she waited for him now to join her so they could exit together, the portrait of a couple in love.
Walking to her side, he grasped her arm and wrapped it around his own. Staring down into her eyes, he asked, “Are you ready, wife?”
Her smile held a touch of melancholy. “Even if I wasn’t, it’s too late now.”
Even an hour later, Niall was still thinking about her words.
The ceremony had been well attended and executed to perfection. She had been a vision in her blue dress, her gold curls glinting in the light and casting her in an ethereal glow, while her dark eyes had contained smiles her lips only hinted at. Niall had almost swallowed his tongue when she’d met him at the end of the aisle for he’d been completely transfixed.
When the bishop had announced them man and wife, the words had jerked him from his musings like a slap to the face. Alicia was now his wife, and already he feared the power she could wield over him.
She sat next to him now, at the wedding breakfast, smiling shyly as guests offered them toasts filled with well wishes for a happy, prosperous future.
Happy. There was that word again. All assembled assumed they were happy, no doubt thanks to Alicia’s superb performance as a glowing bride. But Niall knew better. During the ride from the cathedral to Ashwood Terrace, and all through the meal, Alicia had not looked at him once. When he’d addressed her, she had responded with curt nods or one-word answers. His need to keep her at a distance had hurt her and he was sorry for it.
But he was also angry.
This marriage might have been foisted on them, but they had agreed to it and known what to expect. For her to inexplicably become upset about it now, after the whole thing was done, was unfair.
Niall vowed to honor and respect her, so he would be patient. Empathetic. So much had changed for both of them in such a short period of time, and the adjustment would not be easy.
He slid his eyes to her, watching as she pushed her pudding about her plate. When Juliana asked her a question, Alicia immediately straightened her spine and tilted her head, all interest and attention. She was playing a role, and playing it well. Would anyone guess the new Marchioness of Inverray was still unsure she even wanted the title? Observing his new bride laugh and converse with his sister, he would wager not.
Raising a glass of wine to his lips, Niall pushed such thoughts to the back of his mind for he also had to play his role as the merry bridegroom, and he couldn’t afford to spend any more time pondering them.