Page 43 of The Duke's Promise to Her Child
“You did not know how to be a Viscountess either,” Mary said. “And you managed very well. You will do even better as a Duchess. It will all come about, my lady. You will see. And I will be at your side for as long as you want me.”
“Good. Then prepare yourself to spend the rest of your life there.” She took a slow breath. “Oh, Mary. I do not know what I am doing. This is bizarre. Gideon and I...”
“Make a wonderful pair. I thought so from the very beginning. I think the two of you will find your happiness.”
“No,” she said quickly. “We will not find happiness, not in the way you mean. We will find contentment, perhaps. But he and I are not going to be married the way that you and Lawrence were. There is no love or affection here. There is friendship. And that is all.”
“Surely you can acknowledge that he is a handsome man.”
“I can.”
“And that he is kind.”
“That too.”
“And that he makes you laugh, which is more than most managed.”
Helena opened her mouth to reply and found that she could not immediately think of an argument. “That is beside the point,” she said at last. “Besides, I am already settled. The matter is decided. There is no use in discussing it further.” Mary said nothing. She simply straightened the silver sash one final time and stepped back to examine her work with the quiet satisfaction of a woman who has made her point and has no need to repeat it.
* * *
The church was already full when they arrived.
Helena had expected a small gathering, a quiet affair, as befitted the circumstances. She had not expected this. The pews were lined with faces she half-recognized from balls and dinners and the pages of the scandal sheets, all turned toward her as she entered. The whispers began before she had taken three steps down the aisle.
She felt suddenly alone. For her father was meant to be with her. Her mother was meant to sit in the front pew, turning to her as she walked.
Her place was empty. As was the space at her side.
She gulped and walked on. There, in the third row, she saw Clara, seated beside Benjamin. They smiled at her and it gave her comfort.
In the second row, she saw Gideon’s friends-the Langley husbands and their four wives. One was prettier than the next and all smiled at her. They were to be her friends, Gideon had told her, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. As if a friendship sprang up simply because he’d willed it so.
But she hoped it would be true, that they would care. That they would not dismiss her due to the rumors.
As she walked, she caught fragments of conversation as she walked.
…barely knew one another…
…rather sudden…
…the rumors about her family…
…wonder what he sees in...
… must be that pretty face of hers. Otherwise why choose a woman with a child…
She kept her chin level and her eyes forward. She had faced worse than this. She had sat across from Huxley for three years of marriage and learned very well how to look composed when she was anything but.
Gideon was waiting for her at the altar. He cut a considerable dash, she would give him that, dressed impeccably, as always. When he turned and saw her his expression did something she had not expected. It softened. Not in the pitying way of Lord Whitcombe, but in a way that was private, as though the rest of the church had ceased to exist for just a moment.
She reached his side. The whispering continued behind her.
“You look lovely,” he said, under his breath.
“There are rather a lot of people here,” she replied, keeping her voice equally low.
“There always are when there is something worth talking about. They are making a great push to ruin the day, and they will not succeed. Pay them no mind. They will find something else to discuss by Thursday.”
