Chapter 7
Seven
“Are you ready?” Thalia’s Aunt Isadora asked.
“As ready as I ever will be,” Thalia answered her.
Her aunt was shaking with such nerves that one might have guessed that it was she who was about to walk down the aisle today. She had been much the same these past two weeks, wanting to present a brave front, but unable to divorce herself from the opinions she had of the duke.
She is worried for me, and I could not be more grateful that she holds such concern for my well-being. I just wish she would do so more privately, because I could use a little false bravery right now.
“I still can’t believe this is happening…” Her aunt looked out the window of the carriage, her gaze falling on the small church which sat ready and waiting. “And so quickly.”
“For the best.”
“It is,” her aunt agreed. “I just pray that nothing…” She bit into her lip. “I pray that the two of you find happiness.”
Thalia smiled and reached across the carriage, taking her aunt’s hands. “It will be perfectly fine. That the duke has agreed to this at all tells me that he is an honorable man. Surely, that alone is proof that not everything they say is true.”
“Yes… of course… nothing to worry upon whatsoever.”
Again, Thalia found it slightly frustrating that she was the one having to convince her aunt that there was nothing to fear. She supposed in a strange way, it helped with her own worry and fear, forced to speak the words out loud that she needed to hear as if they might be true.
She looked out the window, her eyes falling upon the church, her stomach turning as it had been doing all week. The moment she was both dreading and looking forward to had finally arrived.
“Olivia is inside?” she made sure to ask.
“Oh yes, you will see her there. I left her with my dear friend, Sally Walters, who has three children of her own, so she knows what she is doing.”
Thalia nodded. “Good. This is a big day for her, also. Let us hope she understands why…”
Thalia had already explained to Olivia what was happening and why.
And Olivia, ever eager to please and forever a ball of joyous energy, was excited by the prospect of Thalia marrying.
She seemed to think that it was not so much a husband that Thalia was gaining, but a father for herself. As if these things were so simple.
And where Thalia would have liked to have explained the complications of this situation… she wouldn’t even know where to start! Olivia was not her daughter, and Ronan would never be her father. This was a situation of circumstance, the final results of which Thalia could not even imagine.
But that is for the future. For now, all I can do is get this over with and hope I’m not making the biggest mistake of my life…
“Shall we?” Her aunt shuffled forward, still holding Thalia by the hand.
A deep breath, a final look at the church, and Thalia pulled herself back into the moment. “No time like the present.”
With that decided upon, Thalia opened the door of the carriage and climbed out from inside.
Her aunt came with her, her arm linked through her own, acting as moral support and in the role that her father would have played were he still alive.
Someone had to give her away, so it might have been the only person in the world who still cared for her.
A natural consequence of burning every bridge she had ever walked over.
There was music coming from within the church, and two men standing by the door watching them. Once they saw that Thalia was coming, they hurried inside to announce that the ceremony was set to start.
Her heart was hammering against her chest. Her entire body was shaking. Do not let them see how nervous you are. Do not give them anything…
She was determined to appear as if she wanted this.
As if she wasn’t terrified of the implications, as much as she was her husband.
Despite what she told her aunt just now about the duke, she admitted too that she knew almost nothing about the man.
They had spoken twice, neither time filling her with much confidence, and she literally hadn’t the faintest idea what she was getting herself into.
And when she entered the church and saw her husband waiting, she felt her heart seize for a moment, then leap through her chest, then drop out from her all at once. It was hard to tell exactly what she thought… only that she was confused and excited and determined at the same time.
He stood at the end of the aisle, dressed all in black, looking as dark and intimidating as ever. He saw her as she entered, those deep green eyes watching her, no smile reaching them or his lips. Resigned, was how he appeared.
With him were three men, all dukes she was sure, each one dashing and physically superior in their own way…
but they each paled in comparison to her duke.
Where they shone, he glowered. Where they smiled, he scowled.
And where they each seemed comfortable with the situation at hand, there was no doubt that the duke was dreading it.
“Here we go…” Isadora whispered.
The chatter in the church died down, as did the music. This left an awkward silence as Thalia started down the aisle. It was heavy and strained. Her breathing rattled, her heart thumped, and she could feel the tension as she came closer to her soon-to-be husband.
He watched her the entire time. A big man, he seemed to grow taller the closer she came, rising and spreading his influence so that it was suffocating.
But Thalia, committed to this, refused to look away.
She met her husband’s eyes and held them, needing him to believe that she wanted this. That she was grateful.
When she reached him, she offered a soft smile.
His brow furrowed at the gesture and then he turned to face the minister.
Thalia stepped beside the duke, careful not to get too close. He might have been her husband soon, but there was a wall that existed between them, one she doubted would break and crumble by the day’s end.
“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today…” the minister began once they were ready.
The ceremony happened as if it was a dream. To Thalia, it felt like she was watching from afar, not in control of her body, not willing to believe this was real. It is real… I need it to be real… this is what I want.
It was strange to feel both relieved and worried at the same time. The fight between what she wanted and what scared her raging within. As the ceremony stretched, Thalia found herself glancing at the duke often, trying to get a read on his emotions and how he must have been feeling.
But he was dispassionate in the way he looked ahead.
Where she wanted and needed this to occur, he was simply resigned to it.
She remembered what he had said to her, about this being a marriage of convenience, and Thalia could not help but wonder now what that meant.
What was in store for her once she returned with the Duke of Westvale to his isolated home in the middle of nowhere? What did her future look like?
“… and in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost. Amen.” The minster finished and it was done.
The reception from the crowd was impassive, almost awkward.
A scattering of applause. A few people cheering.
But they seemed to sense the mood of the moment, and when Ronan looked down at his wife but did not move to take her hand or kiss her, they seemed to understand well enough that this was not a moment to be celebrated.
This led to a tense silence. The audience watching on as they waited to see what the duke would do. Thalia’s heart continued to race, caught between smiling and taking her husband’s hands and turning and running.
And then…
“Papa!” a shrill cry broke through the silence and the crowd turned as one to see who was the cause.
Thalia’s stomach dropped as she spun, and she very nearly cried out herself to see her daughter, Olivia, tearing free from the embrace of Sally Walters and stumbling onto the aisle and then down the altar.
She was not yet four years old, had blonde curly hair, big rosy cheeks and blue eyes, and seemed to glow with pure exuberance and ecstasy that clashed horribly with the moment at hand.
“Olivia!” Thalia hurried to intercept the little girl, but she was too slow.
“Papa!” Olivia squealed as she darted between legs and threw herself at the duke. She had in one hand a cup of juice, and as her little arms wrapped his legs, it spilled down his pants and covered the floor.
Thalia stood frozen, her mouth hanging open, knowing she should snatch Olivia back but her body unwilling to move so that she might do so. Eyes wide, she looked from Olivia to the duke who was staring at the little girl with an unreadable expression.
The guests too, each one was silent, watching on in a state of what felt like fear. All except for the duke’s friends who stood by his side, each wearing a humorless smile because they alone could see the funny side.
“Are you my new papa?” Olivia asked, still clinging to the duke’s legs. “Mommy said that you were.”
The duke’s upper lip curled. “Did she now?”
“You are so big!” Olivia cried joyously. “How are you so big?”
“Livy…” Finally coming into herself, Thalia swept down and wrapped her arms around her daughter, prying her free from the duke’s legs. “What did I say to you?”
Olivia bunched her face into a tight ball. “Ummmmm…”
“That you were to behave.” She had her daughter in her arms now, gently bobbing her up and down. Even though she was trying to scold the little girl, she could not help but smile because, gosh, she was just that cute. “Remember?”
“I forgot,” Olivia pouted.
Thalia shook her head. “Yes, I can see that.”
“But you said… you said…” She squirmed in Thalia’s arms to try and look back at the duke. “He is my new papa. You said… you said…”
“Not now, Olivia.” She widened her eyes at her daughter in warning and then looked at the duke who was still scowling at the situation. “I am so sorry. She is just a little excited.”
“Clearly.”
“And I will better explain the situation to her later, I promise.”
The duke considered. “I would hope so. Despite everything, I am not her father. Nor will I be.”
Thalia winced at the harshness of the words.
How coldly they were spoken. The entire church was watching and listening to them, and a few gasps rang out in shock and judgement.
It had since become known that Thalia had a daughter, so her presence here wasn’t as concerning as it might have been.
But the blunt rejection of the little girl still stung, while giving a pretty good indication of what was to come.
All but Olivia seemed to understand this. Despite what the duke said, she continued to squirm until she was facing the duke.
Her blue eyes were wide and eager. Her smile split her face in two. And when she stuck out a little hand for the duke to take… Thalia almost burst into tears because it was so darn cute.
“I am Olivia,” she said, that smile somehow growing. “Nice to meet you.”
Silence fell again. Thalia held her breath, waiting for the rejection, heart already breaking because she was sure the duke was about to hurt her daughter because that appeared to be who he was. But then…
“It is nice to meet you,” he growled, even taking her hand in his and giving it a tiny shake. “I am Ronan.”
“Ronan…” Olivia said the word thickly, pronouncing each letter. “That’s a funny name.”
From somewhere in the crowd, a person started to laugh.
The effect was immediate and soon every single guest was joining in.
Isadora too, covering her mouth to try and keep the laughter from spilling out.
Olivia, not understanding, joined in because that’s the type of person that she was.
And even Thalia, relieved at the way the tension had broken, tittered softly.
If there was one person able to take a situation like this and turn it toward the lighthearted, it was Olivia.
As for the duke? His brow tightened and he glared across the guests as if in warning. But despite the apparent annoyance, Thalia could have sworn she saw a fraction of a smile touch the side of his lips.
“Isadora…” Thalia gestured for her aunt to take Olivia.
“Oh! Yes, sorry.” Isadora was quick to scoop Olivia from her arms and place her on the ground. She held her hand tight and then waved for her friend Sally Walters to come and get her.
“I need to change,” the duke growled and shook his wet legs. He turned and stormed off from the altar.
And Olivia, beyond excited by it all, tore free from Isadora’s hand and chased after him. “Wait!” she cried.
“Olivia!”
“Where are you going?” Olivia fell in beside the duke and clutched at his pants.
Thalia held her breath once more, certain that this time the duke was going to say something mean. Only… she could not hear what was being said. She saw the duke’s lips moving and Olivia’s eyes widening and her smile growing. And stranger still, he did not try and shake her away.
It was the smallest of things.
Were this an ordinary marriage and an ordinary husband, Thalia might not have thought so much of it.
After all, it should not have been such a big deal for her husband not to be reviled by her three-year-old daughter, and to treat her with the respect and dignity that she deserved.
But this was not a normal marriage and certainly not an ordinary husband.
The marriage was less than five minutes old, and for the first time, Thalia felt something other than dread in the pit of her stomach. It was hope that maybe, beneath the hard shell and prickly exterior, there was more to the duke than she or anybody else knew.
For now, hope is all I have. For now, it will have to do…