Chapter 18
Five Days Later
“You looked beautiful today, my darling,” Katie whispered, stroking a brush lovingly through Bridget’s long hair.
Bridget attempted a smile as she looked at her friend through the vanity mirror, but it did not reach her eyes.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “And thank you for staying a while longer. I am still… Though I have done this before, I still find myself a bit nervous about what is about to come.”
It was unusual, to be sure, that a bride would request a friend to help her get ready for her wedding night. Yet Bridget was not quite ready to be alone. She feared what thoughts would unfurl from her mind if she did so.
“You are my dear friend, Bridget,” Katie warmly replied, pausing her brushing to squeeze Bridget’s shoulders. “I would stay all night if you wished. Though I doubt your new husband would appreciate that.”
It was intended as a joke, Bridget knew that.
Yet she could not bring herself to laugh.
Instead, silence filled the grand layout of the duchess’ quarters of the London Redgrave Estate.
Her new quarters. For she was the Duchess of Redgrave now.
The last few days, including the very intimate wedding ceremony and reception that occurred just a few hours ago, had been nothing but a strange, out-of-body blur for Bridget.
She vaguely remembered putting on the white dress, walking down the aisle, and saying her vows to Adrian, but none of it truly seemed real.
“What is the matter, Bridget? Why do you look so solemn? I thought you would be excited for a new start? The way I understand it, you and Warren did not love each other,” Katie said.
Bridget shook her head, once more feeling tears well in her eyes. It was a common sensation for her now. She was sure she had cried more in the last few weeks than she had in her entire lifetime.
“It is true that I did not love Warren,” Bridget whispered. “But everything happened so fast. Besides, what does remarrying so quickly say about me? I thought that as a widow, I would be done caring about what the ton thought of me. That I would have some respite.”
“Oh, darling,” Katie sighed, hugging her from behind. “You worry far too much! Stop thinking about rumors and start focusing on your own happiness! Do you like your new husband?”
Bridget sniffled, then nodded.
“Adrian is most handsome,” she admitted. “And kind. In a gruff sort of way. I just… I have not processed the whole situation yet, and I am not sure I have made the right decision in getting into another marriage so fast.”
“Give yourself some time to get to know one another, and stop worrying about what the ton has to say about your life.” She paused for a moment, as if contemplating. “He is different, you know. From Warren, I mean. The way he looks at you? It is as if you are the only woman in the room.”
Through her despair, Bridget felt a tingle of warmth spread through her body. She might have noticed that as well. Even if her fear of being discarded and uncared for ran rampant.
“Now I must go,” Katie said, stepping away from her. “It is your wedding night after all, and I am sure your new husband will be very anxious to spend it with you.”
“Thank you for helping me, Katie,” Bridget replied, turning in her seat as her friend went to the door. Katie gave her a wink, then blew her a kiss, then left.
Bridget then turned back to the mirror to take a final look at herself. Katie had helped her change out of her wedding gown into a simple white lace nightgown, removed her jewelry, and brushed down her hair. Resigned to how she looked, Bridget sighed, left the chair, and walked over to the bed.
Her mind was a tangled mess of thoughts as she lay down atop the light peach silk covering.
Her heart hammered as she prepared herself for what was to come.
Her first and only coupling had been… unpleasant, and she assumed all couplings would feel the same.
Though the stirring of feeling Adrian had caused in her body was much different.
Perhaps that would mean it could be a little better.
Too fearful to put much more thought into what was about to come, she turned to the mess that was her new family.
Adrian might like her, but would his sister and mother feel the same?
She had barely made their acquaintance at the wedding breakfast. And Adrian, for that matter, did he truly like her?
Or did he marry her out of obligation or protection?
He had spoken many lovely words to her, but had he actually meant them?
Or would he simply consummate their marriage and then toss her aside as Warren had?
All these thoughts and questions settled heavily on Bridget’s mind as she heard the door open and close. Her eyes darted over, and in the soft light of the candles, she saw Adrian watching her curiously while still lying stiffly on the bed.
He had removed his black jacket and his matching cravat.
The sleeves of his white shirt had been rolled up to his elbows, but his black waistcoat and trousers looked as perfect on him as they had when they had had their ceremony and reception.
His black hair had been combed into submission, but a single lock had fallen over his left eye, hiding the piercing blue.
Bridget felt another tingle move up her spine, and though she was still unsure about the marriage, she sent up a prayer of gratitude that her husband was so handsome.
“Good evening, Your Grace,” she greeted, deciding to be formal as her nerves started to frazzle again.
Adrian dipped his head in a slight bow as he slipped his hands into his trouser pockets and leaned against the wall.
“Good evening, Your Grace,” he replied, his deep voice like black silk brushing against her ears.
Bridget felt that tingle in her spine transform into a pulse as he used her new title. Yes, she might be married again, but she realized that, as a duchess, she was a station above most of her peers, thus saving her from much gossip. Could she really be herself without fear from now on?
Adrian cocked his head curiously to the side as he raised a single brow.
“What are you doing there?” he asked, sounding slightly amused.
Bridget’s brow furrowed. She rather thought it was obvious.
“Performing my duty,” she answered when Adrian only continued to wait for an answer. “I know what is expected of me. You may do what you need to do. I assure you that I will not object.”
Adrian’s brows scrunched together as the small smirk on his lips faded into a frown. He pushed himself away from the wall and walked over to the bed. His eyes slowly wandered down her body, then up to her face. To her surprise, he held out a hand to her and waited.
After a moment of wondering what he was doing, Bridget took his hand, and as he pulled her up into a sitting position, he took a seat on the side of the bed.
“So I understand that you have done this before?” he asked.
Bridget blushed, but nodded.
“I know what to do,” she admitted. “It is uncomfortable, but I know what is required of me. I should appreciate it, though, if you would just allow me to lie back so you can get it over with fast.”
To her surprise, Adrian let out a soft laugh.
“What is so funny?” she demanded, drawing her knees to her chest.
“Not a thing, actually, and I apologize for the inappropriate reaction,” he said, shaking his head. “But it wounds me that you would want me to get it over with. This is our wedding night.”
Bridget glared at him, suddenly feeling lost and embarrassed.
“I… I am not sure what you want from me,” she confessed.
“Well, not this,” Adrian replied, nodding toward her curled-up position. “In fact, I do not expect anything from you, nor do I want to force you. Our consummation would only be meaningful if it were special for both of us. If you only see it as a duty or a chore, I want no part in it.”
Bridget’s mind reeled. That was not at all what her guardians had told her, nor was it what Warren had insisted their first night when she was so very nervous.
“I am so confused,” she confessed. “How would there be a different way to go about this? Surely this is a mistake on your part.”
Adrian’s brow furrowed.
“A mistake?” he echoed.
Bridget nodded.
“Yes, I believe you made a lapse in judgment in trying to spare me from Victor. What you did was kind, I cannot deny that, but why marry me if you do not want me?”
“Wait a moment,” Adrian quickly replied, putting up a hand. “I never said I did not want you, Bridget. You are making assumptions about our marriage before it has even had a chance to start. Does being married to me honestly seem so terrible to you?”
Bridget nibbled her bottom lip, growing more confused than ever. Marriage was supposed to be about duty. Or at least so she had been told.
“No,” she confessed. “But—”
“Are you attracted to me?” Adrian asked.
The bluntness of his question had Bridget’s cheeks flushing red, but he continued to give her that intense, questioning stare until she meekly confessed, “This has nothing to do with that… Everything happened so fast and for all the wrong reasons. It certainly does not mean we are in love.”
Something flickered in his eyes at that, not anger exactly, but pride touched raw.
“I did not say that we were,” he replied.
“But do not pretend you feel nothing.” He closed the remaining distance between them, not touching her yet, but close enough that she could feel the heat of him.
“I know how I make you feel, Bridget. I have known it since the first moment I laid eyes on you.”
Bridget did not answer; her mind, too jumbled by the rush of the latest events, could not truly process anything.
As if sensing her overwhelmed state, Adrian reached out and traced his fingertips over the top of her fingers. The small touch sent a spark through her hand, down into the knee her hand lay upon, and into her leg.