Chapter 3
CHAPTER 3
S arah kept her eyes ahead of her and focused on just putting one foot in front of the other.
It was surreal to be back in the same church, walking the same aisle, but other than that everything else was different.
The pews were empty save for her mother, sister and a man and woman on the groom’s side. No flowers were strung from the rafters, no candle lit the aisle. And the biggest change was the tall, brooding, strange man standing at the alter watching her every step towards him.
His stare weighed her down. Was he afraid she would run? Leave him at the alter the way his brother left her? She’d be lying if she said she hadn’t thought of it. Even Beatrice suggested it when she first told her family of their arrangement.
But both families needed this. He was saving her reputation and she was helping clean up another mess his brother created. This was an arranged marriage, nothing more.
It’s been three weeks since her last wedding, if you could even call it a wedding. These past weeks have been a whirlwind of last minute planning and endless conversations with her family.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw her mother worrying her handkerchief as she sat next to a wide eyed Beatrice. Her mother’s emotions these since her announcement ranged from relief, to grief, from elation at his family stepping up, to terror that the family is a part of some secret society that lured women in to their doom.
And she questions where her daughters get their flair for the dramatics?
This wedding was so quickly thrown together that Eleanor and Derek weren’t able to make it back from their estate to join them.
The thought of having her older sister here to witness this fever dream made her palms itch. No. It was better this way. The less people here to witness the mess her life had become the better it was for her. Her reputation was ruined, she no longer believed in fate or love or anything else as frivolous as romance.
She joined the Duke at the end of the aisle. There was a small part of her brain that was still conscious of her actions that told her to pay attention, that one day her grandchildren may ask her about it. Unfortunately, the numbness that settled into her bones on the day of her last wedding attempt only solidified these past few weeks dulling any emotion she once had. It took too much strength to keep her wits about her.
The priest cleared his throat.
Sarah dragged her eyes up to his. “Excuse me?”
Her voice cracked from misuse and hours of crying. She didn’t even care her hoarseness echoed throughout the church.
“I asked if you will have this man to thy wedded husband, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy state of Matrimony.”
A bubble of laughter escaped her lips. She looked up to her soon-to-be husband and quickly sobered. Dark green eyes zeroed in on her causing her heart to race. Her new husband certainly knew how to use intimidation to his advantage.
Licking her dry lips, she refocused on the priest. “I will.”
As soon as the words left her mouth, her brain clicked off again. The cool sheath of numbness surrounded her until she felt someone tugging at her arm. She looked to her right where the Duke stood.
“It’s done,” was all he said.
“Oh.” She looked back to the priest. “Do we kiss?”
The priest looked to the Duke in unsettling confusion.
“I mean, not you and me.” She laughed nervously. “Obviously not you and me. I mean, me and him.” Sarah’s hand waved in between her and the Duke. “The Duke and me, I mean, His Grace and I. Me. The Duchess. Ha! I’m a Duchess, I suppose.”
Her mind whirled. What was she doing? She had lost all control of her mind, body and mouth. Embarrassment rose high in her cheeks as she realized the absolute fool she just made out of herself.
Her eyes dropped. A wave of nausea from grief washed over her. There had to be a crevice somewhere for her to crawl into.
She felt the Duke shift beside her. Strong hands landed on her arms as she was turned to face him.
A big hand took her chin and tipped it up ever so carefully. Sparkling green eyes peered down into hers.
She was expecting to see derision, regret, even fear for his own life. After all, she was raving like a mad woman.
Instead, she saw compassion. It was fleeting, but she knew what she saw.
His eyes were soft and concerned for a just a moment. It was enough to settle her.
The Duke leaned in and brushed his lips against hers. It was the briefest of kisses, one that most definitely would look like it held no emotion.
Yet, when his lips chastely touched hers a calmness settled within her.
He pulled away and his eyes moved to look at someone standing just behind her.
She turned in time to see her mother approach her. “Mama?” Sarah’s voice sounded distant even to herself. “Mama, I’m married.”
Charlotte’s lips thinned into a tight smile. Sarah could tell her mother was willing her unshed tears not to fall.
“Don’t cry, Mama. This is a happy thing, remember?”
My goodness. Is that my voice?
Even though her voice was devoid of all emotion, she could admit that a small part of her did feel relieved she actually went through with this hasty marriage. Her reputation was salvaged for the most part. There was no more wondering, or worrying, when her day will come. It came. It went. She was now married.
She looked up to the man that was now her husband. The finality of the act was settling in and Sarah could feel that nervous laughter bubble within her again.
God in heaven, what did I just do?
Thankfully, before she could say anything, Charles took her by the elbow and escorted her to his waiting carriage.
“Wait!” It was the first time her voice reached above a whisper since she got to the church.
Panic coated her skin in a cold sweat. “I didn’t get to say goodbye to my mother.”
Charles looked into the empty cab before nodding and signaling her to go say goodbye.
Sarah picked up her skirts and trotted to her mother who was standing in the church’s doorway with Beatrice.
Sarah wrapped her arms tightly around her mother. “Goodbye, Mama. Thank you for all that you have done for me, especially these last few weeks.”
“Sarah. I can’t help but think we made a grave mistake. You don’t know this man. I feel like I just fed you to the wolves.” Charlotte pulled Sarah away and held her at arm’s length. “We’re still waiting to hear back from Derek. What if he finds something scandalous in his background?”
Sarah wrinkled her nose. “He didn’t find out anything when I was supposed to marry Eli-”
Beatrice snorted. “And look how well that turned out.”
Both Sarah and Charlotte’s attention snapped to Beatrice who simply shrugged at their shock. “I’m just saying what we’re all thinking.”
Charlotte scowled at her youngest. “We were not all thinking that.” She turned back to Sarah. “Although, she’s not wrong. We knew that boy had selfish tendencies and even Derek didn’t see it as an issue. Obviously, we were wrong. What if he’s wrong about the whole family. I mean, there have been rumors-”
Sarah hugged her mother again, cutting off her words. When she pulled away she kissed her mother’s cheeks.
“Trust the process, Mama.”
Charlotte frowned. “Have I ever told you how much I hate when you girls use my own words against me?”
The corners of Sarah’s lips tipped up in the corners. The smile felt odd but she took it as a slight victory that she had ability to form a smile at all.
“It wouldn’t have stopped me from saying it either way.” She looked over her shoulder to where her husband stood waiting. “I must be going, Mama. I love you.”
She turned to hug Beatrice. “I love you, too, dear sister. Try not to give Mama too much trouble.”
Beatrice smiled. “I’m not allowed to make promises I can’t keep.”
A small laugh escaped and Sarah had the sorry hope that that wasn’t the last time she laughed.
She took a moment to look at her mother and sister before turning and making her way back to the carriage.
Sarah had a shiver of familiarity as she walked towards the carriage and her waiting husband. He was staring at her, just as he did when she walked down the aisle.
Emerald eyes watched her every step as if he were a hunter afraid of scaring his prey. Sarah tilted her head and held it a little higher. Now that the ceremony was over and she was officially married she felt a bit lighter.
She no longer felt the weight of dread hanging over her. She was a Duchess now and that had to count for something.
Charles reached out his hand to help her into the carriage. She nodded as she took his warm hand and stepped into the carriage.
He followed after her and sat opposite her in the cab. He reached out of the window and tapped the roof, signaling the driver to move.
The carriage jostled to a start. Sarah watched as her mother and Beatrice disappeared from sight. Soon she couldn’t even see the church.
She took in the changing scenery from the busy city to the quiet dirt roads of the country. “Are we going to your country estate?”
Charles remained quiet, his gaze trained on the passing trees.
Sarah chewed her bottom lip She was never one comfortable with silence.
“It’s a beautiful day. For sure I thought it would be another day of rain like we’ve been having. Perhaps we’ve hit a bit of luck after all.”
Charles continued to sit, watching the outside pass them.
Sarah pulled at the lace cuff around her wrists. Surely he heard me.
She began to tap her fingers against her lap. She thought the ceremony would be the hardest to get through, little did she know she’d be cooped up in a carriage with him for God knows how long without a drop of conversation.
Nerves danced up and down her spine causing her to shift in her seat. She opened her mouth again, but quickly closed it when she saw Charles looking at her.
The brief moment of compassion he showed her at the church was long gone and from the looks of his expression that may be the only time she’d ever see it.
His eyes were darkened and a crease formed above his eyes.
Sarah sat straighter and audibly swallowed. Without a word he told her he was in no mood for a discussion.
An itch began to form at the base of her spine. She wanted to lash out and question his authority. It was the same itch that drove her to him residence that fateful night. However, the stress from the month paired with the swaying motion of the carriage lulled her body to relax against the back of the seat.
There was no point in trying to start a conversation with him. Not with him sitting stick straight, and her barely able to keep her eyes open all of a sudden.
She snuck a peek at her husband as her eyes drifted closed. He sat tall in his seat, his broad shoulders seemed to take up the entire side of his bench. His long legs were still, not stretched out in relaxation, but bound beneath him. It was almost as if he was readying himself for an attack on the carriage. His green eyes were shuttered, giving away no emotion or inkling of what he was truly thinking. There was not a single trace of familiarity found amongst his features. It was if they were strangers sharing a carriage ride home.
And, yet, he is now my husband.