8. Chapter 8
eight
T he entire village seemed to have turned out for the wedding the next morning.
Jenny descended from the carriage to the large carpet that had been arranged with the help of a footman and stared in awe at the villagers lining the narrow road before the chapel.
They murmured amongst themselves with a few brave enough to call out a greeting to her.
Jenny waved and smiled as her mother and Cora arranged the skirts of her wedding gown.
It was a simple white garment with a princess line bodice garnished with creamy lace around the collar and lining the row of buttons.
The skirts were gathered asymmetrically in drapes and folds and secured with a mild bustle below her hips.
The lace continued down either side to end at the hem, which was also lined with the intricate decoration.
For all its simplicity, the true beauty of the gown was in how the silk draped in delicate folds to trail out behind her.
When Kit had helped her select it, she had protested the extravagance, but he had stressed the importance of her station as the bride of a duke’s heir.
Now she was glad she had relented. The villagers seemed suitably impressed that she was attired in a garment fit for their Lord David.
She only hoped their lord was as approving.
Jenny might not belong here, but she could play the part for a day in such a costume.
“Come, dear, we must get started.” Her mother led the way up the steps to the chapel’s front door .
They entered a sort of antechamber. Closed double doors led to the interior of the church where everyone else waited.
“You look so beautiful, Jenny.” Cora wiped her eyes, a surprising reaction from her older sister, who was usually the staid one.
“Are you all right?” Jenny teased.
“Oh, hush. It isn’t every day one of my sisters gets married.”
“No, only two in the past month.”
Cora laughed and embraced her. “I still can’t believe it,” she whispered. “I hope he knows how lucky he is.”
Jenny rather thought Lord David had no illusions about luck having anything to do with it, but she was barred from answering when another voice said, “I imagine he does.”
They both turned to see Mr. Hathaway approaching. He’d been lurking by the window and neither of them had noticed him.
“You look beautiful, Jenny.” He stood before her with a patronizing smile on his face.
“Mr. Hathaway…I…I didn’t expect you.” Though now that she thought about it, it was odd he hadn’t shown up to Heathercote last night with all the other guests. He oversaw her inheritance. Of course he would be at the wedding. It would be noted as an oddity if he wasn’t.
“I’m your godfather. Why wouldn’t I be here?”
That was the word being thrown around to explain his presence in the girls’ lives.
They couldn’t very well say he was their father and still make good marriages as illegitimate children.
Though anyone who dared look closely enough would probably see a resemblance between him and Cora with their similar noses and strong chins.
He was handsome in the way many advantaged, middle-aged men were attractive, but there wasn’t anything remotely memorable about him.
His looks had been engineered to make him blend in and appear harmless, even though he was anything but that.
He’d held their fates in his dubious palms for all of their lives.
If Jenny was grateful to Lord David for nothing else, it was because he’d helped her cut this final string to a man she had increasingly grown to dislike.
“I suppose we can’t suspend the charade now, can we?” Jenny asked with all the bitterness she felt for this man who had threatened to cut her mother off from her allowance every time she did one thing that even remotely displeased him.
“What charade?” He had the nerve to appear confused and flustered.
“I will take your arm this last and final time because I have no choice. But after this day, I don’t want to see you again. Ever.”
“Now see here, young lady. I won’t be—”
“Mama.” Jenny turned to her mother, ignoring him. “Open the doors. Let’s get started.”
Her mother hurried to motion to the waiting footmen, but Mr. Hathaway was not finished. Taking his place at her side, he said in a low voice, “Do not forget I am your father.”
“You have never been my father.”
Though that wasn’t quite true. There had been a time in Jenny’s earliest memories when she could remember him tossing her up into the air and herself giggling as he caught her.
They might have gone on a picnic in a park; there were trees around and laughter as her sisters cavorted.
But those memories had long been replaced by lining up on Sunday afternoons in their best dresses to have him survey them like prized possessions.
And arguments with Fanny behind closed doors that left Jenny and her sisters scared and uncertain.
If he’d ever said a kind word to any of them—except to praise their beauty—she couldn’t remember it.
Whatever he might have said to that was drowned out by the sound of the people gathered inside rising to their feet when the doors opened to reveal her.
Her gaze found Lord David and his brother standing at the end of the aisle near the vicar.
Her betrothed’s eyes lit with appreciation and, strangely, eagerness.
She’d known that he’d wanted her and had appreciated his bravado in accepting her proposal, but she had also expected that bravado to fade as the wedding day approached.
She’d imagined him looking for ways out up until the very last moment.
But he’d surprised her. Now he stood there, his chin up and his gaze strong and unwavering as she made her way to him.
Had she not known better, she would have thought that he actually wanted to marry her.
But she did know better. It was merely the wedding night he wanted.
A flare of heat sparked in her belly, desire unfurling as she approached him.
When they reached the altar, Mr. Hathaway handed her off to him. She put her hand on Lord David’s arm and he covered her fingers with his.
“I thought you might not come,” he whispered, a soft teasing note in his voice.
“The same could be said for you,” she whispered back.
He laughed softly and shook his head. When he glanced over at her his eyes were so hot they scorched her. “Never. We have tonight…remember?”
She gave a jerky nod, completely unable to form words or even look away from the spell he cast over her.
How could she not remember? It had been all she’d been able to think about for weeks.
In his eyes she read every dark and tantalizing thing he wanted to do with her. God help her, she wanted it, too .
As the vicar began the ceremony with an opening prayer, she bowed her head and prayed for the strength to survive this marriage with her heart intact.
***
Jenny opened her eyes to a painful beam of light stabbing her directly in the eyeballs.
Grimacing, she closed them immediately and snuggled into the softness at her back, seeking a source of comfort.
The movement shifted her a little bit to the left, away from the sun but against something solid and warm.
Odd how it also felt comforting even though it was firm, like a pillow overstuffed with feathers, and it had been dabbled with the loveliest scent.
She instinctively turned to curl herself around it, hoping to sink into a couple more hours of sleep but someone cleared their throat.
A man. The sound had been made by a man who was clearly perturbed by something. Why was a man in her bedroom? In her bed?
She jolted to awareness and immediately wished she hadn’t.
A splitting pain tore through her head. Her mouth felt like it had been swabbed with cotton.
By degrees, she came to understand that someone sat on the bed beside her.
When she had rolled onto her side, she’d come up against what she now recognized as a very hard thigh covered in trousers and the folds of a midnight blue dressing gown.
She followed the line of his body up to see Lord David looking down at her with a very stern expression.
She sat up, the blanket falling to her lap to reveal that she wore her chemise. It was the same one she had worn under her wedding gown. All of her other clothing had been removed.
“What happened?” she asked .
A dark eyebrow quirked. “You don’t remember?”
Was it possible they had done the deed? She hoped with every fiber of her being that they had.
That her obligation would be done with and she could go on with her life now.
She didn’t feel any different. If they had spent the night engaging in sex—and she was certain he meant to have her the entire night—she would feel something.
Yes? She would be sore in places. Unfortunately, her head was throbbing so much, she couldn’t process any other ailments.
“Here.” A glass of water appeared out of nowhere. “Drink this.”
Suddenly, it was the only thing she wanted in the whole world.
She accepted it and drank it down like she hadn’t had water for ages.
Some trickled out onto her chin and down to her chemise but she couldn’t be bothered until she’d finished the whole thing.
Only then did she wipe it from her skin and then the linen.
Zounds! She hadn’t remembered the chemise’s linen fabric being quite so transparent when she’d put it on. She could make out her areolas.
He took the empty glass, and she brought the blanket up to her neck. He refilled it from a pitcher on the bedside table and gave it back to her. She accepted it but sat holding it, her thirst momentarily dampened by confusion.