CHAPTER EIGHT
Helena stared straight ahead at the vicar.
She knew every pair of eyes in the old village church was focused on her, could hear the whispers rustling around her, could see from the corner of her eye how everyone in the congregation craned their necks for a better view of her.
Her hands were clammy, but she didn’t dare to rub her palms down her skirt for fear that anyone watching would think her nervous.
But of course, she was. After all, today was her public debut as the Duke of Thurston’s fiancée.
And of all the places to make it, of all the occasions…
here, for the first reading of the banns.
She couldn’t have picked a more thorough way to spread news of her arrival and their engagement than this.
The vicar stood in the carved pulpit, fully enshrined in his white and green vestments, and read from the paper in front of him.
“I publish the banns of marriage between Gabriel, Duke of Thurston, of our home parish of St Mary’s here in Chatham, and Miss Helena Sinfell of St George’s parish in Mayfair, London. ”
Reverend Barlow looked up to smile at Helena and Gabe, who sat with Verity and Alice in the very middle of the church in the Cavanaugh family pew box.
The vicar seemed perfectly oblivious to the craning necks as the villagers strained to get a better look at her.
One woman in the front unashamedly stood up to see over the pews.
“This is the first time of asking,” the vicar continued. “If any of you know cause or just impediment why these two persons should not be joined together in Holy Matrimony, ye are to declare it.”
Helena held her breath as the reverend paused, then took an excruciatingly long time to move his gaze over the congregation. She kept waiting for someone to shout out from the pews that her marriage would be a sham, that Gabe didn’t love her, or—God help her—that she didn’t deserve to be a duchess.
When Reverend Barlow smiled and went on with the rest of the week’s announcements, Helena let out a silent sigh and eased down her shoulders.
Yet the vicar was unable to drag the congregation’s attention back to the rest of the service.
Everyone in the church continued to stare at her in surprise, all of them curious to find out who the woman was who was set to become the new mistress of Grangely Park.
Only her soon-to-be family in the pew with her paid her no mind.
Alice swung her little legs rapidly beneath the bench, bored at the service and unable to contain her energy, while Lady Verity sat ramrod straight and did her best to present a model of aristocratic piety.
But both Verity and Alice had looked at Helena when the banns were read, as had everyone in the church.
Everyone but Gabe.
But then, he had barely looked at her at all since they left the Thurston coach at the church steps, spending the entire sermon with his gaze fixed on the vicar and a steely expression hardened on his face.
Good Lord. For a man who had just had his marriage banns read, he looked every inch as if he were attending a funeral.
She wasn’t any happier. “I feel like an animal in a menagerie,” she whispered.
Finally, he glanced down at her, but only for a moment before his attention went firmly back to the vicar.
“You’re a surprise, that’s all,” he returned in the same low voice so they wouldn’t be overheard by anyone in the pews around them.
“By the time the last reading occurs, no one will give you a second glance.”
Ha! Judging from the collective curiosity crammed into the church, it would be months before the villagers stopped gawking.
Yet what other choice did she have but to be put on display like this?
The alternative to reading the banns—securing a special license for a rushed and private wedding—would have been much worse for both of them.
The banns subjected her to a few weeks of open curiosity.
A special license would have made every villager suspicious of why they had married, including the possibility that Gabe had gotten her with child.
She would never have been able to put that spurious gossip completely behind her and become accepted.
“As soon as they meet you,” he assured her, not moving his gaze from Reverend Barlow, “they will all know that you will be a good addition to the Cavanaugh family.”
Doubtful. What they would do was compare her to Clarissa. Helena wasn’t at all certain how she felt about that.
But Gabe was no help in easing her anxiety, especially since he seemed to be in his own world today.
What was going through his mind? True, this wasn’t a new experience for either of them.
Five years ago, they’d sat together at St George’s in Mayfair and listened to the banns, surrounded by the love and happy wishes of their friends and family.
Was Gabe remembering that time? Or was he regretting not having had the same experience with Clarissa?
No. Reading the banns wouldn’t have saved that marriage. Just as reading them now couldn’t guarantee a happy future for a second one.
The service ended, with Reverend Barlow directing everyone to go in peace.
Throughout the church, villagers jumped to their feet to gain unobstructed views of Helena, no longer feeling obligated to maintain any sense of decorum.
She felt like a hunted hare with nowhere to hide, and her cheeks flushed.
Then they nearly scalded when Gabe rose to his feet, pulled Helena to hers, and signaled for the congregation’s attention.
A hush fell over the church.
“If I might ask for your indulgence for a moment?” he called out. “Miss Sinfell and I would like to say how pleased we are that you could all be here with us today as we embark upon our new life together.”
He wrapped her arm around his. Perhaps to keep her from fleeing? God knew she wanted to do just that.
“My fiancée and future duchess—”
Helena fought back a cringe. She felt like a fraud.
“—is very much looking forward to meeting all of you and becoming a part of our lives here at Grangely Park. In appreciation for providing such a warm welcome, we would like for you to join us in celebrating our engagement with a picnic on the village green this afternoon.” He smiled at the congregation with the ease of a man who knew both his position over them and his responsibilities to each of them.
“We look forward to sharing many more village celebrations with you over the years to come.”
Then he surprised them all—and especially Helena—by leaning over to place a kiss to her temple.
Her chest tightened, knowing that gesture of affection was only for show.
So was the way he scooped Alice into his arms to lead the villagers to the village green.
Alice’s eyes widened in surprise, then the little girl laughed and wrapped her arm possessively around Gabe’s neck as he bounced her out of the church.
Verity gave Helena a smile and looped her arm around Helena’s to lead her from the church. “Smile, Miss Sinfell,” she ordered quietly, her own smile already firmly in place. “Everyone is watching. And remember, that which does not kill us—”
“Just hurts like the devil?” she forced out through smile-widened lips.
“Exactly.” Verity patted Helena’s forearm to ease the sting. “But somewhere in there, it also makes us stronger.” She slanted Helena a no-nonsense look. “And you will need to be strong, my dear. Being Duchess of Thurston is not for the faint of heart.”
That Helena could certainly believe.
As if proving her words, a throng of villagers pressed in around them in the vestibule before they could step outside. They clambered for Verity to introduce her, and Gabe’s aunt obliged, most likely having known the villagers for decades.
“May I introduce you all to Miss Helena Sinfell?” Verity squeezed Helena’s elbow reassuringly—or to remind her that she couldn’t flee for the hills, Helena wasn’t certain which.
“Miss Sinfell, this is Mrs. Brown, whose husband owns the coaching inn.” She gestured toward the next woman as Helena nodded politely to the woman.
“And Mrs. Putnam, whose husband is the local solicitor…”
Helena smiled, genuinely pleased—if thoroughly nervous—to meet the people who meant so much to Gabe.
But that wasn’t the point of today, she understood.
It wasn’t for her to meet them; it was for them to meet her.
From what she’d gathered from Verity and Mrs. Brimley, the housekeeper, Clarissa had never bothered to introduce herself to the villagers like this.
She couldn’t have cared less about them, and they knew it.
That was a mistake Helena had no intention of repeating, so she answered their questions as honestly as possible and without so much as a quaver in her voice.
Yes, I plan on staying at Grangely Park with His Grace except when business calls us to London…
Yes, we have plans for a large family…
Yes, I’m simply thrilled to be Lady Alice’s stepmother and Lady Verity’s niece…
No, I’ve never seen a prettier village in all of England…
Just when she thought her face might pull a muscle from so much smiling, Reverend Barlow politely shooed them all out of the church and onto the steps, so he could close the doors behind them and get on with his Sunday duties.
Verity called Helena’s attention to the picnic waiting for them on the green and led her forward as if she were some kind of Pied Piper that would bring the villagers along behind in her thrall. Exactly that happened, too.