Chapter 20
Kalina
Since she had never been to an English wedding, Kalina did not know how hers measured up, but she imagined there were not usually so many whispers and sidelong glances at the bride and groom.
She also rather thought that the bride and groom likely spoke more than two words to each other during the meal.
Instead, Nathanial spoke mostly with Tiffany, who was on his right, and Kalina spoke mostly with the Duke of St. Albans, who was on her left.
Eventually, she excused herself to go to the retiring room, which was where Delilah sought her out.
Like Lady Astrid and Tiffany before her, the other lady apologized.
Kalina reassured her that no such apology was needed.
“It is difficult for me,” Delilah confessed quietly, brushing a lock of black hair away from her face.
The lemon-colored ribbon she had woven through her curls matched the lemon dress she was wearing.
The bright color was trimmed with black, which made it stand out all the more. “My first husband, the baron...”
Her voice trailed off, and Kalina’s eyes widened in horrified realization.
“He… in your bed?”
“Oh no, thankfully.” Delilah shook her head.
“He did not ravish me, but he did not need to. All he had to do was arrange a scene at a ball, where we were caught out alone together, and he kissed me. I allowed it, thinking that he loved me. I did not know at the time that he was after my dowry.” She smiled thinly.
“Of course, I had to marry him, anyway, and we rubbed along well enough. Though you would think I would have learned my lesson about believing a man’s protestations of love from that. ”
Kalina squeezed her friend’s hand, not knowing what to say. At least now she understood why Delilah had drawn away so quickly.
With all of her friends, their withdrawals had actually had very little to do with their belief in her guilt and far more to do with their personal reactions to what had happened. It had hurt horribly, but now that she understood, she felt so much better.
If only she could have a similar moment with her new husband… but from Hereford’s closed expression, she did not think he would welcome any such coming together. Not now. Not yet. But she could have hope that he would come around to it eventually, just as her friends had.
As she and Delilah left the retiring room, she found her father there waiting for her.
Immediately, Delilah excused herself and went onward.
Kalina suppressed the urge to join her. She stared at her father, trying to think of what to say.
This was the first time they had been alone, without witnesses.
Even before, when he’d been about to walk her down the aisle, there had been footmen present, waiting to open the doors for them.
Her father smiled hopefully at her, stirring the anger and frustration that she’d been pushing down inside her ever since she’d awoken to the Duke of Hereford in her bed.
Taking a deep breath, she shoved her unruly emotions down again.
They did not have time for her to vent them right now, even if she was not acutely aware of the nearby witnesses.
She had kept herself under control from the moment she’d walked out of her room, applying a social mask to hide everything she was truly thinking and feeling, and she did not intend to allow it to crack now.
“Kalina… I…” Her father groped for whatever it was he wanted to say. Kalina raised her eyebrow at him. “I just want you to know that I have never wanted anything but your happiness.”
Another deep breath, because if she did not breathe in, then she would end up screaming. Her lungs filled to capacity, so much that her chest ached, and she let out the air on a slow exhale.
“You thought that trapping me into marriage with the Duke of Hereford would make me happy?” Somehow, she managed to keep her tone low and even, rather than shrieking the words at him the way she wanted to.
“I thought that you might have been about to make a terrible mistake that would make you unhappy.” He held out his hand.
Despite everything, Kalina could not bring herself to reject him.
She put her hand in his, and he gave her fingers a supportive squeeze.
“The Duke of Montagu was working his way around to proposing to you. But Hereford… you two have a connection. Very akin to the one your mother and I had in our early days. But he was fighting it for nothing more than societal reasons. He would have come around eventually, I believe, but by then it might have been too late if Montagu had beaten him to the offer.”
Closing her eyes, Kalina fought with her inner demons. The impulse to shriek at her father was very strong.
“Did it not occur to you that each of those was our choice to make?”
“You would not have been happy married to Montagu, not with how you felt about Hereford. Nor would he be happy.” Metaphorically digging in his heels, her father’s tone was so certain, so sure of himself, she despaired of making him understand.
“Hereford will eventually realize that you had nothing to do with trapping him. Then you can both be happy together.”
She hoped so. She truly did.
However, she was not nearly as certain as her father about such an outcome.
There was also no point in railing at him, no matter how much she wanted to. Kalina swallowed her temper. Her father did want her to be happy more than anything; she believed that. He had acted rashly, unwisely even, but his intentions were pure. That had to count for something.
Besides, it was too late to put the cat back in the bag, regardless. Burying her emotions, Kalina nodded.
“Let us hope,” she murmured. She squeezed his hand back. “I know you meant well, Father, but you must promise to let me, and Hereford, make our own choices in the future.”
“I promise.” Pulling her toward him, he embraced her in a hug, which she returned.
Resting her head on his shoulder, the same way she had done as a little girl when he was her hero who could do no wrong, Kalina closed her eyes.
If only she had known back then how simple her life was compared to what she would face as a debutante, she might have been more grateful.
“I love you, my little Kalina.”
“I love you too, Father. Thank you for trying to ensure my happiness.” Maybe if she repeated it enough times, she would be able to release her upset with him.
There was a long moment, and then the sound of someone clearing their throat came from down the hall. Despite the lack of words or tone, somehow it managed to convey displeasure. Kalina’s eyes flew open.
Her husband stood at the junction between the hallways, watching her and her father’s embrace, a dark expression on his face.
“It is time to go,” he said, without preamble. Then he turned and walked away before she or her father could respond.
Letting her go, her father patted her shoulder.
“Do not worry, all will turn out right in the end,” he reassured her.
But Kalina was not a little girl anymore, and she knew better than to believe him.
Nathanial
Well, that clinched that.
His new wife had clearly snowed her friends. Lady Astrid was no longer keeping her at arm’s length, nor were Tiffany or Delilah. Somehow, she had convinced them of her innocence in trapping him.
But they had not seen her father and her secretly embracing, obviously in congratulations over the success of their plan.
They had not heard her thank her father for ensuring her happiness.
Every muscle in his body felt tight and stiff with rage. It was a wonder he could see straight, as his vision felt fogged, tinged with red. Only the number of guests around them, the necessity of keeping a stiff upper lip in front of the gossipmongers, kept him from losing his temper entirely.
At least he’d had the foresight to have a horse saddled for himself, while a carriage had been prepared for his duchess and her maid. He would not be forced to ride the hours to Hereford Hall with her in close quarters. Perhaps by the time they arrived, he would be in a better frame of mind.
Even if he was not, he would no longer have to playact for an audience of the ton. Nor would he have to see her father, which would do a great deal for his temperament.
Striding to the front of the house where the Blackstones waited, along with Mrs. Little, who had a strained expression on her face despite the company of the Dowager Duchess of Clarence, Nathanial made his bow to the hosts.
Lady Astrid stood next to her mother, sympathy on her expression, but also a kind of sternness that he was used to seeing from her. She was no longer fully on his side.
As much as he wanted to tell her about what he had just witnessed between Miss Little and her father—no, between the now Duchess of Hereford and her father—this was hardly the time and place. Especially with so many others about.
He waited, albeit impatiently, until his wife came into the foyer on her father’s arm. Though her expression was utterly blank, her father seemed even happier than he had earlier in the day.
Farewells were exchanged, and Nathanial thanked the Blackstones for their hospitality and for being up to the challenge of holding an unplanned event.
Lady Blackstone happily reassured him that it had been no trouble at all, especially as Astrid had taken on the bulk of the responsibility.
She often did. Though today, Lady Blackstone’s eyes were clear and bright, and she appeared to be feeling very well indeed.
If only Nathanial could say the same.
Escorting his wife down the stairs and to the carriage, Nathanial did not meet her gaze as he helped her up into the confines. Her maid quickly followed.
“Madam,” he said stiffly, giving her a nod before stepping away.
One of the grooms was standing to the side with the horse he would be using to return home. That was one upside to his marriage. After today, he would be able to purchase his own horses and his own carriage, and provide for their upkeep. He would no longer need to rely on the generosity of others.
Trying to keep that thought firmly in his mind, rather than his bride’s duplicity, he mounted the energetic bay gelding. Glancing up at the front facade of Blackstone Manor, he was unsurprised to see multiple faces lining the windows, from all the rooms on the first floor.
The Blackstones themselves, along with the Littles, had trooped out onto the front stairs to wave.
His friends were grouped together at two windows.
Both Gregory and Sebastian appeared sympathetic, while Christian was frowning at Nathanial as if he was the one who had done something wrong.
Zachary and Drake both appeared more somber.
Matthew was the only one who was grinning.
When he caught Nathanial’s gaze, he nodded his head, lifting his hand up to pat his pocket where his lucky coin was.
Daft bugger.
Nathanial shook his head, turning away and using the reins to guide his horse in front of the carriage.
The carriage that held his wife.
Who had trapped him into marriage.
Taking a deep breath of country air, Nathanial reined in his temper. They had several hours to go before they reached Hereford Hall. Hopefully, he would be able to shake off some of his temper on the journey.
But he was not too hopeful.