Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
The day of the wedding arrived quickly, which seemed to be a theme in Florentia’s life so far, so she tried not to let that worry her. What did worry her, what frustrated her to no end, was the behavior of her soon-to-be husband.
“Have you seen His Grace?” she asked her mother as the two women waited for the ceremony to begin. They were sequestered in a small antechamber behind the chapel, double checking Florentia’s wedding gown and make-up and doing what they could to pass the time as guests arrived.
“I have,” her mother said as she fussed about with Florentia’s hair; it was worn in a tight bun with ringlets falling over her brow to frame her face, the way these ringlets were falling being what occupied her mother’s attention.
“He and your father were seen speaking just before I found you here.”
“Did you speak with him?”
“I made sure to greet him of course—will you hold still!” her mother sighed, grabbing her by the shoulders and forcing her to face the mirror. “Or do you wish to look like you just rolled out of bed?”
“What did he say?” Florentia asked, turning back to face the mirror. “Did he mention me?”
“Not to me, he did not,” she said.
“Did he appear excited? Did he ask if I was?”
“Why would he?”
What a silly question. To wonder if my husband was looking forward to marrying me! How foolish of me to wonder at such a notion as that.
It had been two weeks now since the duke had arrived at her home and requested her hand in marriage.
Two weeks spent wondering, even hoping, that he might call on her again, to see how she was doing, to send word that he was thinking of her and could not wait for them to be joined as man and wife. Two weeks and...and nothing.
And it was not that Florentia expected him to fawn over her.
She was aware of the assumed expectations for those of her station, and few married out of love.
But she could not escape the reality that she knew nothing about her husband, and she feared this lack of knowing who he was and what he wanted out of her would lead to inevitable doom.
How could she start a family with a man who, for all she knew, did not want one to begin with?
“I might have liked to have spoken with him again,” Florentia said, caring not for her hair or her dress or her make-up. “Even just for a moment, it might have been nice.”
“There will be plenty of time for that later, dear. Your entire life, might I remind you.”
“Yes, well, as to that. My entire life, I mean...” She clicked her tongue with frustration. “What kind of life will it be if I find myself saddled with a husband who wants nothing to do with me?”
“Florentia...” Her mother sighed. “As you well know, this arraignment is nowhere near as odd as you seem to think.”
“I did not say it was odd,” Florentia countered.
“I am simply expressing my concern for a marriage in which I do not know the first thing about my husband. You and Father have raised me well, Mother, I do not deny that. But in this raising, you have taught me that as a wife I am expected to start a family—I wish for this more than anything.”
“And a family you will have.”
“Will I? Has the duke told you that? Has he given any indication whatsoever?”
“Florentia...” Her mother sighed again. “All I ask is that you trust your father and I. Do you really think we would agree to this marriage if we did not think it to be in your best interest? Have a little faith, dear.”
She wanted to. Oh, how she did. Her fear was that in her mother’s desperation to see her wed, and to a duke no less, that she might have forgotten what mattered most. Or rather, chosen to overlook certain expectations because in her mind this was Florentia’s last chance to find a husband, which was the ultimate goal for any lady of the ton.
“You are right,” Florentia admitted. “I am sorry.”
“Never mind that.” Her mother took her by the shoulders and forced her to look at her reflection.
“What we must concern ourselves with is the task at hand. In a few minutes, you will enter the chapel, and His Grace will get his first real good look at you—an impression which will stick in his mind and remind him why he chose you. Why he did not hesitate. You wish for this to be a happy marriage? A successful one? It starts right here. Believe you me.”
Florentia rolled her eyes at her mother’s romantics, even if she did feel herself flushing beneath her makeup because the thought of the duke seeing her looking her best, of being taken by her beauty, was perhaps more appealing than she was willing to concede.
And she did look beautiful, too. Of that, there could be no argument.
Her gown was a two-tiered yellow number; the billowing skirt a light sun blossom, the girdle a dark canary.
It was a modest piece with long sleeves and a high neckline, little skin shown, and the floral patterning stitched with sparkling silver was truly wondrous.
Pairing this with her silver and sapphire jewelry, and makeup worn to bring out the color in her cheeks and blue eyes, and she was in every way a sight that would make heads turn and jaws drop.
“Beautiful,” her mother crooned, sniffing and wiping her nose as tears began to well.
“I am,” Florentia said, her skin tingling and her heart racing because even she could not deny the effect this would surely have. “Let us see the duke ignore me now.”
As things turned out, she had spoken much too soon.
Florentia made her way to the chapel, appearing at the end of the aisle, pausing when she reached her mark so those in the chapel could turn and see her.
There were gasps, approving whispers and wide eyes; many were nodding their heads and smiling eagerly.
Naturally, Florentia had eyes only for her husband, eager to see his reaction. ..
He looked upon her with a straight face.
She had no sense that he was pleased to see her.
He gave no indication that he was excited.
And he didn’t so much as smirk or smile or breathe a sigh of relief as if not sure that he had made the right choice until right now.
It was a simple gaze, at which point he turned back to face the front when the music started to signal her approach.
It didn’t help that Florentia’s heart began to race at the sight of him.
He was exactly as she remembered. Talk, dark and brooding.
Ruggedly handsome. A powerful force of nature which demanded attention.
She very nearly tripped when she started down the aisle, and she had to work not to scowl with anger at his less than enthusiastic response.
Things proceeded from there with typical formality.
Florentia reached her soon-to-be husband and stood beside him. The two faced the pastor who conducted the ceremony without theatre, reading the vows, having them say the words to announce themselves as man and wife, and then taking one another’s hand without sealing the union with a kiss.
His hand was large around her own. The feel of his paw encasing hers might have sent her heart racing, was it not so cold and dispassionate.
And it wasn’t that the duke seemed to not care about her, or to be upset with her, or as if he was having second thoughts.
It was just so sterile; a business transaction was how it felt.
Certainly, as far removed from romantic as one might hope.
Florentia tried to catch his eye during the ceremony.
She tried to smile at him, hoping he would do the same.
She tried to show him that she had come around to this union and was looking forward to what it might bring.
But the duke gave her nothing, which itself was a clear indication of what she might expect from today, tonight, and the rest of her life.
A marriage of convenience, this was to be. Nothing more.
Florentia realized that she was glaring at her husband and had to force herself to stop.
Careful, Florentia. Do not let yourself go down that path. It has been but an hour into this marriage, and the last thing you want to do is make things worse. If that is even possible...
She was at the post-wedding breakfast, hosted at what was now her estate.
Following the ceremony, those who had attended were asked to join the new duchess and the duke at Worthington Estate to eat and drink and dance and bask in what all agreed would be the happiest of unions.
At least that was what they were saying.
Perhaps if they were paying attention, they would not say such things. Perhaps if they were paying attention, they might have noticed that not since leaving the chapel had the duke said so much as a word to Florentia. Not once!
The duke was standing on the opposite side of the room, surrounded by half a dozen men she did not know or care to know. He was not speaking, just standing there as they spoke at him, each of the men eager to garner favor with the duke despite how bored he looked.
“What are you looking at?” Albina swept toward her, out of breath and laughing gaily. “And why are you standing over here on your lonesome?”
“Where else should I stand?” Florentia snapped before she could help herself. “Sorry...” She grimaced. “I did not mean to snap at you.”
“Still in a mood, I see.”
“Can you blame me?” She indicated the duke with a flick of her head. “He stands so far away from me it is as if he is doing so on purpose. Am I crazy, or did the two of us not just wed? Unless I imagined the whole thing.”
“No, no, I am quite sure that is what happened.” Albina scrunched her face as if trying to remember. “Yes, I distinctly remember seeing the two of you standing at the end of the aisle as the pastor—”
“It is not funny, Albina!”
Seeming to understand that she had gone too far, Albina’s tone softened. “I am sorry, Florentia. I did not mean it.”
That is fine,” Florentia sighed.” I just wish to know why is he ignoring me? Is this what I must look forward to for the rest of my life? Never mind wishing to start a family? At this rate, a simple conversation would be nice.”
Albina’s brow scrunched, this time in thought. She looked between her friend and the duke, only to nod to herself as a decision was made. “May I ask you a question?”
“Do I have a choice.”
“While I admit that His Grace’s behavior is a little odd—”
“It is rude, is what it is.”
“—you will remember what I told you of him, no? That he is not exactly the most social person, and it takes time for him to come out of his shell. I mean, look at him, Florentia.”
She took her friend by the hand and forced Florentia to focus on the duke. “Look how miserable he is. How bored. Does that look like a man who is actively avoiding his wife? Who is taking pleasure in pretending she does not exist? Or does it look like a man who is trapped?”
Albina made a good point. With his arms crossed, and his eyes looking every which way but at those who spoke to him, the duke looked as if those that had pulled him into a conversation were holding him against his will.
“I hardly think trapped is the right word,” Florentia muttered.
“He does not look happy though, does he? I dare say he would love nothing more than to be rescued.”
“What do you mean?”
Albina rolled her eyes. “For all your complaining that your husband has not sought you out and laid himself bare at your feet, I must ask, have you done the same for him? If you wish to have a conversation with your husband, then do it. Nothing is stopping you.”
“Oh...” Florentia blinked, caught off guard by how obvious the observation was. “Well... no, I have not—but he is the one who should be making the effort.”
“Why?” Albina asked flatly. “As I said, he is not sociable. The norms that you expect have likely not occurred to him. You have asked me day and night about who the man that you have now wed is, trying to figure him out like he is some sort of puzzle. I tell you now, he is not nearly as complicated as you might think. And all the questions you have, likely, will be solved if you walk over there right now and simply say hello.”
“I...” Florentia’s heart began to race with nerves. Such a simple thing to do, but it now seemed like an impossible task fraught with danger. “What if he does not wish to speak with me? What if—”
“No, no.” Albina stepped behind Florentia and gave her a shove. “You wish to find out the potential this marriage has. It is time you do something about it!” Another shove and before she knew it, Florentia was crossing the room toward her husband.
Though she had no idea what she was going to say when she reached him, she figured that at the very least she would know in a few moments if this marriage had a chance at working or if it was doomed to failure.