Chapter 6 #2
Julia ignored that. “I am just trying to see both sides. Anyhow, the duke did not know he had a sister.”
Poppy grew still.
“So, when he spoke of her,” Julia continued, choosing the words with care, “he was most likely referring to a half-sister. And if that is true, and he has taken responsibility now that he knows…” She glanced toward Poppy. “Then his actions may be more honorable than they first appeared.”
Poppy had not allowed herself to dwell too long on Hector’s honor. It was easier to think of the facts instead. Honor belonged to stories people told after the danger had passed. Yet Julia’s words remained with her.
Honorable.
It did not make Hector any warmer, nor did it make the proposal less abrupt or the arrangement less strange.
It did not tell Poppy what kind of husband he would be, whether he would remain distant, or whether his icy control was indifference or restraint.
But it placed another possibility alongside the ones she had already considered.
Perhaps he, too, had found himself standing before a door he had not chosen, knowing he could not walk away.
Poppy looked at herself once more. She looked like a bride, but she did not feel like one.
She felt like a woman making a deal with a man who had the same priority as her.
Her fear had not left. It sat quietly inside of her, hands folded, waiting.
But beneath it was Aurora’s brave little face and Princess’s helplessness.
“I will ask you again. Are you regretting this, Poppy?” Julia spoke softly.
Poppy touched the lace of her gown, feeling the soft fabric beneath her fingers.
“No,” she said softly, and more to herself than to her sister. “I do not regret it.”
“I can do this,” Poppy whispered to herself.
The wedding was not the sort where the décor mattered. It was a modest arrangement near the front of a small church. Pale blooms gathered without extravagance, and their stems hid in a plain vessel. There were chairs set in careful rows, though most of them remained empty.
In her view, she could see the clergyman with a book held open in both hands as he spoke in a low voice.
Poppy squinted and tried to see who came on the duke’s behalf, but there was not much light coming through the church windows.
It was as if even the day understood it had not been invited to rejoice.
“It is awfully quiet in there.” Georgia appeared at her side, and Julia gave her a stern look.
Georgia pursed her lips.
“You will be fine, Poppy; we will be right behind you.” Julia fixed a strand of hair that had come loose under Poppy’s veil.
Poppy looked around her sister for Thomas but did not find him, and she felt more disappointed.
“Where is my nephew?” she frowned.
“He is inside with his father.”
Poppy nodded but did not look into her cousin’s or sister’s eyes as she thought about Princess and Aurora waiting for her arrival. Julia sighed and grabbed her hand.
“Are you asking about my son because you are secretly thinking about your girls?” Her sister always read her mind.
Their absence, more than anything, made the church feel unfinished.
But Poppy had agreed that it would be better if the girls were not present.
Better if they were spared the hush, the watchfulness, the unsettling spectacle of adults arranging a life around them while pretending the arrangement was ordinary.
It would be better if their first memory of their guardian’s marriage was not a few relatives seated in a quiet venue and a bride walking toward a man who had offered her security with nothing resembling love or tenderness.
Poppy reminded herself again as she stood at the entrance and tried to peek through the church door.
“It is better this way, Julia.”
Julia squeezed her hand and let go. “It is not too late to run away, sister.”
Georgia gasped as Julia winked at her, and Poppy laughed, but felt her throat tighten with unshed tears.
“I cannot run; I have to do this.”
Julia’s eyes filled with tears as well. She kissed Poppy’s hands.
“I am proud of you, Poppy. I know there is no way I can talk you out of this. Please know that I will always be here for you, and now I will always be here for my nieces too.”
“And so will I,” Georgia added.
The ladies embraced as they tried not to cry. Outside, the church bell rang; it was a sound that indicated the start of a new life beyond those church doors.
Poppy took a deep breath in while Julia and Georgia let go of her and stepped into line as the church doors opened.
The hem of her gown moved quietly around her ankles as the Duke of Sterling stood at the altar.
He was strikingly handsome in a cream wedding coat, white ruffled shirt, gold-trimmed waistcoat and pantaloons tucked into black leather boots.
He looked taller, and she admired his strength.
She wondered what he saw when he turned his head toward her because his expression was unreadable.
It was difficult to tell that his vision was impaired, but Poppy knew that he was not fully blind because his eyes followed her perfectly as she walked down the aisle. She found it hard to tear her own gaze away from his pale gray stare, and her breath quickened as she approached him.
“Dearly beloved…” the clergyman lowered his eyes to his book and began reading the banns when she finally reached Hector’s side.
The small company of witnesses remained still behind them. Poppy could feel their attention resting on her back, but she kept her gaze on Hector because looking anywhere else would suggest she required escape.
He inclined his head by the smallest degree and whispered so only she could hear. “Miss Norish.”
“Your Grace,” her own voice quivered as she took in his scent and the way he seemed to see her through the veil.
“If you want to run, you should do it now,” he whispered.
Poppy looked up at him daringly.
He was not teasing, and there was no gallantry in the offer or last romantic test of her resolve. He meant it exactly as he said it.
Is it a warning?
The cane shifted once against the floor, so softly no one behind them would have noticed, but Poppy noticed that Jonathan’s attention sharpened from the edge of the scene, though he did not move.
Hector continued, “Once the vows are spoken, you will belong to me forever.”
Poppy gulped, and she wanted to reject any sentence that made a woman sound like property transferred between names and seals.
Yet there was also the truth of the moment, stripped of lace and politeness.
This marriage would alter her. It would fasten his name to hers.
It would place her under his roof and within his authority, and it would give her the girls while taking from her what freedom remained.
Forever.
The thoughts settled heavily, and Poppy drew a quiet breath.
Why is everyone questioning my decisions?
“I know exactly whom I am marrying…and why.”
His head angled slightly.
“Do you truly know who you are marrying?” his voice was dangerously low, and it made her feel uneasy in a pleasant way.
“Yes.” She kept her voice as low as his. “I have no illusions that you will ever be a warm husband.”
Understanding moved across his face.
“No,” he said. “I imagine not.”
She should have stopped there. A prudent woman might have. But prudence had brought her all the way to this room, to this man, to this edge of irrevocability, and she found that she wanted one truth spoken aloud before she gave him her vows.
“But I am not marrying you for you,” she said.
His gray eyes remained fixed on her.
“As I have repeated countlessly, I am marrying you for the girls.”
Poppy did not know if he could see the details of her face. She did not know if he could make out the determination she had placed there like armor, or whether she was only a pale shape before him with a small voice attached to a promise. But he heard her. Of that, she was certain.
He looked almost amused as he chuckled softly.
“Then,” he said, “we agree that this is a marriage in name only.”
“Yes,” she said simply, ignoring the rising dread within her. “This is a marriage in name only.”
Hector held out his hand when the clergyman indicated they should turn toward him.
Poppy placed her gloved fingers in his, and his fingers closed around hers with firm restraint.
He was surprisingly warm and gentle, yet she shuddered at his touch.
It disturbed her that his body contradicted him.
More than anything, it also intrigued her.
For a moment, she truly wished to run, but the ceremony began and reality rose around her.