Page 26 of To Have & To Hold

If Emilia had been standing here for reasons other than her own compromising circumstances, and the special license the duke had secured for a swift and private wedding, she may have felt the moment’s beauty more deeply.

It had only been a week since the day the duke had stormed into the Moorfield’s drawing room. The lady’s maid he had employed for her had already moved all of her belongings into her rooms here at Kenswick House. Emilia has simply blinked and opened her eyes to an entirely new life.

She looked up at the duke, whose attention was fully on the clergyman. The only other people in the room were her aunt and uncle, Lady Charlotte, and Lord and Lady Blackburn.

Lousia had refused to speak to her since the night of the incident. Her cousin blamed Emilia entirely for the turn of events, particularly the fact that the rumors attached to their household had delayed her entrance into society for another year.

Despite how quickly the duke had obtained their special license, the whispers were already multiplying. He had expressed hope that the less of a spectacle they made, the sooner they could reenter society as though nothing had happened. The Ton would go on as if nothing at all had changed, eager to bestow their attention on whatever poor unsuspecting person was ill-fortunate enough to catch their eye. But Emilia’s life was forever and permanently altered.

“I, Nathaniel, take thee, Emilia, to my wedded wife. To have and to hold from this day forward…”

The sound of the duke’s voice pulled Emilia from her thoughts, the weight of every word slowing down the beat of her heart until she could feel nothing but his hand in hers.

“...for better, for worse. For richer, for poorer. In sickness and in health. To love and to cherish, till death us do part…”

His voice never faltered. Each word was spoken with a steady determination that should not have been possible while pledging one's life to a complete stranger.

“...with this ring I thee wed. With my body I thee worship, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow…”

Emilia squeezed her eyes shut. The breath rushed from her lungs, and her feet nearly gave way beneath her. The duke’s hold on her hand instantly tightened, and she felt the soft stroke of his thumb against her palm.

“...and thereto I plight thee my troth.”

He was not looking at her, but the strength of his presence held her steady until her breath slowly returned.

She was married.

Or at least, she assumed she was. The rest of the ceremony was a blur, but she must have performed her part correctly because the vicar pronounced them husband and wife.

The duke settled her hand into the crook of his arm and led her to the dining room, where the servants had prepared awedding breakfast. It was a formality he had offered to forgo, but Emilia was grateful for the distraction of company.

It was not that she found the duke’s company at all unpleasant, but the sooner they were left alone, the sooner she would have to face the fact that her husband was nearly a perfect stranger.

She took a sip of tea to try to settle the churning feeling in her stomach. She knew nothing at all about the man that she married—besides the fact that he had saved her twice, was the only person who had ever been able to intimidate her uncle, and yet had the ability to calm her cascading nerves with the simple brush of his hand.

He was an enigma, one that she now had the rest of her life to figure out. From what she had seen of him so far, it may take that long. For a man who spoke so plainly, he was undeniably guarded.

He conversed easily with Lord and Lady Blackburn, his eyes brightened whenever he spoke to his sister, and he handled her aunt and uncle with enough civility to be respectable without being mistaken as warm. While his attention remained fully on their guests, he never once left Emilia’s side. She could feel him watching her from the corner of his eye.

Emilia forced an awkward smile through the well-wishes and congratulations, until they were left standing alone in the empty dining room.

“Have you had a chance to settle into your rooms?” Her husband asked, breaking the silence.

“Not entirely,” Emilia answered truthfully.

The duke nodded. They had never had a normal conversation before—not one that wasn’t surrounded by near-death experience or life-altering scandal.

He cleared his throat before speaking again. “I suspect you would like a chance to rest and finish settling in. I will not keep you.” He bowed, quickly, and turned to leave the room before she could respond.

“I will see you this evening, Emilia,” he said as he slipped out the door.

Emilia was quite certain he meant he would see her at dinner, but suddenly she realized she had no idea what he expected the rest of the evening to hold.

∞∞∞

It was well past one in the morning. Nathaniel knew that from how low the fire had fallen in the hearth in his study. His valet had come to check on him hours ago. Nathaniel told him he could retire for the evening, but he had fed the fire before he left—it had long since burned low.

Nathaniel hadn’t glanced at the clock sitting on the mantel since he sat down, not because he was particularly engrossed inhis work; he simply preferred not to know exactly how long he had been hiding, attempting to come to terms with his new reality.