Chapter 13
James
Two weeks later, James stood in the antechamber of St. Martin-in-the-Fields in his best attire. He was waiting for Marianne to arrive with her cousins so that the ceremony could begin.
“Do not fret,” his godmother said as she patted his shoulder. “She will be here. She will not stand you up. The girls would never allow it.”
“I was not under the impression that there was any chance that she might stand me up. She has already received half of the agreed-upon sum, after all.”
“Well, yes, but one never knows. But as I said, you do not need to fret. The girls have strict instructions to bring her directly here.”
Now James found himself in quite a fidget. Was there a chance that Frances might run away? He knew that his proposal was not the best. He could have at least gone down on one knee or done some such romantic nonsense. But they weren’t a romantic anything, so why should he have?
He ran a hand through his hair and then immediately patted it down to make sure it remained in place. He must look the part of an eager bridegroom, even if his nerves were shot to pieces.
He stepped to the door and glanced into the church.
A fair number of lords and ladies were assembled there.
He hadn’t really wanted a large wedding, but he understood that for it to be believable to Somerset Trust, it would have to be grand enough to set tongues wagging and appear in tthe London Voice.
The broadsheets were going to write about it anyway, because a duke was getting married. The fact that he was getting married to a commoner was the part that was more tantalizing to the crowds. After all, dukes got married all the time, but very rarely did they marry commoners.
Aunt Eugenia had made sure that all of her friends shared the same tale she had crafted—that James and Frances had known each other since childhood and had first connected over a shared love of a pony at her stable.
That was, of course, not a complete lie. There had been a pony, and they had both been familiar with it. They had never been there at the same time, though.
Everyone soon believed the story of the two star-crossed lovers who had only recently reconnected.
Well, everyone but Frances’s family. They knew better.
“I do not see Frances’s stepmother or sister,” James noted, having scanned the crowd.
His godmother flinched. “They did not come. Only her father. The gentleman in the front seat there, looking as though he might burst with pride.”
“I figured that was him. He has the same eyes as Frances.”
Aunt Eugenia stepped up to the door and peered out. “You’re quite right. He does. I never noticed.”
“But what of the rest of her family? Why are they not here?”
“Well, many of her family are here.”
She pointed to her cousins’ husbands who had returned from their hunting trip and who were sitting in the second row, waiting for their wives to join them. Then she pointed to a group of Langley relatives.
James stared at her. “I think you know very well that I am not concerned about third cousins thrice removed. Where are her stepmother and her sister?”
She sighed. “They did not want to come. I suppose the idea that their unwanted older daughter is getting married to a duke was too much for their egos to handle. Isabella Langley is a harridan of the first order. I have met her twice, which was twice too many. Unfortunately, her foolish husband is wrapped entirely around her little finger. The man doesn’t have a backbone—utterly henpecked.
It is a miracle that he is even here. Well, it’s not a miracle, given my persuasion skills. ”
He narrowed his eyes. “You had to persuade him to come to his daughter’s wedding?”
“Yes. At first, he tried to make an excuse, claiming that they had prior plans and the wedding came up so suddenly that they were unable to travel to London. Then I reminded him that his daughter is getting married to a duke and will therefore be a duchess. I reminded him that it would be good for his business ventures if he were seen at the wedding and made connections. Likewise, it would be bad for his reputation if London’s high society started asking questions about his whereabouts.
We can explain away a missing stepmother and sister—I have given them a nasty cough that prevented them from coming—but the father?
I suppose I could’ve said he was unable to travel, but I did not want Frances to stand there without anyone. ”
James couldn’t quite explain it, but he felt fury rising within him. The idea that Frances would have to beg her father to attend her wedding, or have her aunt beg on her behalf, was infuriating.
What a blackguard. What an unconscionable villain.
He knew what it was like to be the less-loved child. Or not loved at all. He had hated it growing up, and he despised that Frances had gone through the same.
“Has it always been like this?” he asked. “That her father was so reliant on her stepmother?”
“Oh yes,” Aunt Eugenia answered. “She was his paramour back when he was still married to Frances’s mother.
He never treated Dorothy right. It was abysmal to see.
Indeed, it is just for the way he treated his first wife that I would like to ruin his reputation in front of the entire ton.
But I don’t want to do that to Frances.”
“It sounds as though that is exactly what he deserves. Let me guess—after he had a second child with his second wife, Frances became obsolete?”
“Yes. And as I told you, I was wrong to leave it as long as I did. I should have intervened much sooner. Which is why I am so pleased that you and she are getting married. Even if I do not quite understand the circumstances. I take it this is not a love match? Frances was rather tight-lipped about the details.”
James smiled. He appreciated that Frances had been discreet.
He adored his godmother, but he didn’t want her to know the state of his finances. There wasn’t anything she could do anyway. Best to keep one’s own counsel on such matters.
“It is not. I have decided that being married is practical. It will help my standing, and perhaps I will gain more influence in the House of Lords if I am seen as a stable person who will have—” He stopped himself.
He had told others that he hoped to continue the line, but he couldn’t tell his godmother that because, of course, there wasn’t going to be anyone to continue the line. That was an illusion for Somerset Trust.
“That is to say, I thought it was good for both of us. You are right; she needs a husband. She needs to get away from her horrid family,” he said.
Truthfully, he was beginning to feel a little more confident that this was going to benefit Frances.
“Well,” Aunt Eugenia said as she patted his shoulder, “I pray that you both find happiness in whichever way you can.”
A carriage pulled up outside, and James looked out the window. Marianne and Charlotte stepped out, followed by Evelyn, who then raised her hands to help.
Arms clad in white sleeves appeared first, before Frances emerged from the carriage.
James paused for a moment, his breath catching. She was a vision. An absolute vision. Her hair shimmered as she stepped down, and her dress flowed around her like water.
She was beauty itself. There was no denying it.
He was beginning to understand that the way he was looking at her, the way he was beginning to feel about her, was entirely contrary to his so carefully laid plans.
Confound it all.