Chapter 7
This isn’t how it was supposed to be.
“Ophelia, dear, is something the matter?” Ophelia’s father sat just across from her, so close that he could reach out and touch her on the knee if he wished it. But his voice sounded one million miles away.
The day was technically as perfect as could have been hoped for. The sky above was clear blue, not so much as a cloud on sight, and the sun shone blessedly on all lucky enough to be found beneath its radiant glow.
Ophelia, too, to look at her in passing, one would assume that she was a princess, off to marry her prince.
Her gown shimmered in the sunlight as it swept through the window.
The green was radiant, the gold was transcendent, and its cut was both elegant and beautiful like that which she had dreamed of so often as a young girl.
Her hair, too, was worn in tight ringlets, the auburn color matching her dress perfectly. Make-up was done to whiten her face but color her cheeks pink so it appeared as if she blushed. And her jewelry, all precisely chosen, sparkling in the sun, nothing missing and more than she could have hoped.
And yet… Ophelia was unable to smile as she wanted to.
“Ophelia…” Her father took her hand and squeezed it. “I know this might not be the day you wanted, but it is as good as could have been hoped for. All things considered.”
“I know it is, Father,” she said with a depressed sigh.
“His Grace is a good man, and I know he will look after you.”
“I am sure he will.”
“And who knows…” Her father squeezed her hand harder. “Perhaps one day, should you both allow it, you might even…” He hesitated, as if even he did not believe the words. “You might fall in love. Anything is possible.”
Ophelia was unable to bring herself to agree with her father on that point. Even her smile was forced and hurt her cheeks.
No… I do not think that will happen.
It was important to note that Ophelia did not blame the Duke for what was happening. Furthermore, she knew that she ought to have felt grateful. This was nobody’s fault, and the Duke was doing as he must to protect both his and her reputation. It was the right thing…
But that hardly made her feel better. Certainly not today.
As a little girl, Ophelia had pictured her wedding day more times than she dared to admit.
The scene changed often. What she wore was never the same thing twice.
But what did not change even once, what was a constant in these fantasies, was the very real fact that she loved the man whom she married, and he loved her back.
Such love would never be found with the Duke. Her conversation two days ago, while a small relief because it proved that he had her best interests in mind, was just as sorrowful because it proved also that he had no desire to fall in love with her.
Not that she wanted to fall in love with the Duke.
Not that she imagined such a thing was possible!
But that only brought more confusion. Ophelia looked out the window; she saw the church appear in the distance, and she wondered to herself what it was that she really wanted… and if it even mattered.
I will make the best of this, as I always do. But will it be enough?
Last night, she had thought it would be enough. All week, she had believed it to be. But now that the big day had come, reality arriving in force, and she struggled to see the light as she so often did.
“We’re almost here,” her father said, still squeezing her hand. “Ophelia, know that I will always be here for you. No matter what.”
She smiled sadly across the carriage. “I know it, Father. And I am sorry for being so…” She laughed. “This is not like me at all.”
“It is your wedding day,” he said. “You can be however you want.”
That was another lie. What Ophelia wanted most of all was to be in love with the man whom she was set to marry, and that was the one thing that she could not have.
The carriage came to a gentle stop outside the church. The doors were open and inside she saw the small crowd gathered in wait. The Duke was already in the church, waiting for her, and all she needed to do was walk through those doors…
In a way, Ophelia knew it was always going to come to this.
Perhaps not this circumstance exactly, but a situation beyond her control.
Ever since the scandal that had changed her life three years ago, she had been running from the reality of her life.
A ruin. A past that would doom her always.
And as her father had said, this really was the best she could hope for.
“I am ready.” She steeled herself the best that she could and took a deep breath. “Are you ready, Father?”
His smile was loving. “Since the day you were born.”
Still holding her by the hand, her father opened the door to the carriage and stepped outside. Ophelia followed him, ignoring the tremble of her legs, just as she ignored the pit in her stomach.
She had no choice in this. It really was the best and only option. And yet… was it so wrong to want more? Was it so wrong to want a happy ending to her story? Sadly, as Ophelia had long since come to realize, it was.
One day, she would cry for such a sad tale, but not today. It was, after all, her wedding day…
Ophelia watched the wedding ceremony pass by as if she was not inside her body. Rather, she was a ghost that hovered above it, able to see everything that went on without feeling it as one should.
The first thing she noticed was the church itself.
Its decoration was sparse and simple, and had she not known that a wedding was being hosted inside, she never would have guessed as much.
The crowd too small for a duke, and few appeared happy or elated by the event.
In fact, many looked bored, as if this was business to them and they were merely waiting until it was no longer rude for them to leave,
She did not hear the music as she walked down the aisle, but that was only because her attention was focused on her husband.
He stood with another man whom she did not know, a friend she assumed, although she had not known that the Duke had any friends. And this friend, like everyone else in the church, did not look at all interested or enthusiastic about the ceremony.
The Duke watched her as she slowly walked down the aisle towards him. His expression was plain, no emotion whatsoever. Did he think that she looked beautiful? Was he regretting what had happened? Did he have any thoughts at all?
At least he does not appear upset. I suppose that is something…
When Ophelia reached the altar, she stood with her father, as was proper. The priest began the ceremony, his tone low, no emotion or force behind it. Again, it was as if this was a business meeting, and he was reading through a contract.
Is this what my life is set to become? I might have avoided being involved in another scandal, but surely that would not be nearly so bad as this…
It was becoming harder and harder for Ophelia to convince herself that this was the best option available to her.
It had sounded like it at the time. The Duke saving her.
Her name and reputation intact… or at least not as ruined as it could be.
But what was the point if her life was not worth living?
More than once, Ophelia looked at her soon-to-be husband, searching for any proof at all that there was something in this marriage to look forward to. And she did not even want to fall in love with him! She just wanted… something. Anything to give me hope.
She could only guess that he was doing his best not to look at her. He stared ahead, a gaze that looked just over her shoulder, a furrow in his brow that made it seem as if he struggled with a thought that he could not make sense of.
And yet… every now and then, she would catch his blue eyes flick toward her. It was always quick. Even then, he did not let any emotion pass behind his eyes. And then, he was back to looking away.
But what of two nights ago with that loose thread… There had been something there… something unexpected and real.
The priest’s words washed over Ophelia as she recalled that moment.
Since meeting the Duke, Ophelia had tried to discover who he really was and what he wanted.
His coldness and his anger always felt a little forced to her, as if he felt that was how he had to act.
But when he had plucked that thread loose, and when his eyes had drifted to her lips and held them, there was a brief moment when she had seen through his hardened outer shell.
She had seen… truly, Ophelia could not say.
Just as she could not say how it made her feel. Her heart had raced. Her body had trembled. But was that from surprise, or something else?
“I now pronounce you man and wife,” the priest announced suddenly.
The announcement dragged Ophelia back into the room. She started to brace herself for a moment that she did not consider. What would the Duke do? What did she want him to do?
Trembling, she looked right at the Duke and waited for his eyes to find her own. They did so, something passed behind them, and he reached forward and took her hand. But his touch was awkward; it was not a firm grip, and she knew that was all that she might get from him today.
The crowd clapped appropriately. Ophelia saw her father beam. But the Duke did not offer so much as a smile.
And there it is, I am officially married, and it feels even less important than I had thought it would.
After that, the crowd slowly rose and began to gather at the base of the altar as they came to congratulate the couple. The Duke strode forward to meet them, leaving Ophelia, his wife, behind.
“He is a cold fish, isn’t he?” a voice spoke from beside her.
Ophelia started and turned to find the Duke’s friend looking at her.
He had a long face and thin lips but his black eyes wore a coy smirk as if he was in on a joke that nobody else understood.
There was something cold about the man, distant and detached.
Not quite as much as the Duke, but still noticeable.