Page 43 of The Odyssean Duke

“You have not been here long enough,” Murrayton said, a note of irritation creeping into his voice. “You have not tried to learn London again. If you will but try, you will realize that she has blossomed. She is a place where you can become any man that you like if you will but try.”

“Enough!” Stephan snapped. “It may not have occurred to you, but I have significantly more pressing concerns than making a home. I have no time for these romantic notions of yours.”

Murrayton did not move an inch, but somehow, he seemed to grow stiller beneath Stephan’s fierce gaze. “Of course,” Murrayton said.

“Then, our conversation is finished,” Stephan said, standing. “I have a wedding to attend and an heir to produce.”

Murrayton nodded, his face the picture of dissatisfaction. Stephan knew that his friend wished deeply to continue their conversation; unfortunately, Stephan could think of little that hewould rather do less than continue as they had been. “I will meet you there,” Murrayton said. “It is an honor to be invited.”

Murrayton was the only person Stephan had invited to his wedding. Stephan had spitefully considered inviting the Dowager Duchess of Rothbury, but he had been concerned that she might actually make an appearance and conspire to ruin the whole day. Worse, she might persuade Lady Thornwall not to marry him.

“I wanted you there,” Stephan said gruffly. “That is all. Do you wish to finish your brandy?”

Stephan hoped that Murrayton would want to finish the drink, so they could ride in separate coaches to the church. Otherwise, his friend might decide to resume their conversation, and the thought of talking with Murrayton any longer abouthomesand their importance made Stephan wish he was back on the high seas and facing Napoleon.

“I will not take long,” Murrayton said, raising his glass. “To you, Rothbury. May you win your wars abroad and at home, and may you find happiness with your new wife.”

The man tipped his head back and swallowed the remainder of his brandy in a single gulp that left Stephan equally horrified and impressed. Now, he had no escape from his friend’s interrogations.

“I hope you will not spend the whole trip trying to force me to debate you on something as trite as the concept of ahome,”Stephan said sourly. “You are not addressing parliament when we are together.”

Murrayton grinned, his face brightening. Something which Stephan did genuinely envy his friend for was Murrayton’s eagerness to speak at parliament. The earl had many ideas for the betterment of London’s populations and the charisma to get agreement for the bulk of them.

“Not yet,” Murrayton said. “But wait, my friend. After this widow softens some of your edges, you might be in parliament fighting alongside me.”

“I disagree. Instead, I think I shall be like Lord Byron, who has never attended a single meeting.”

Murrayton shook his head. “He has attendedonemeeting, and depending on the meeting, that may be enough. Now, shall we meet your blushing bride?”

CHAPTER 18

Evelina was grateful that the wedding was not large, but still, she had anticipated more guests. Her friends had joined her, of course, with their husbands dutifully acting as chaperones. As Evelina stood at the front of the church, the vicar waiting patiently with hisBook of Common Prayers, she wondered if her husband was a little intimidated. It would be difficult not to be at least a little uneasy when most of the bride’s guests were dukes and duchesses. Evelina’s own mother was the sole exception.

In contrast, His Grace had arrived with only a single man—the Earl of Murrayton. Evelina wondered at the significance of that. Had His Grace chosen not to invite the Dowager Duchess of Rothbury, or had the woman declined to join them? Was it for better or worse that Evelina had not yet met this formidable woman, who seemed to be the cause of so many of her husband-to-be’s woes?

“Are we ready to begin?” the vicar asked.

He was a young man, who had an air of youthful enthusiasm about him, which Evelina did not often associate with the clergy. It was as if he had woken in the morning filled with delight to be in charge of the wedding ceremony.

“Yes,” His Grace said.

Evelina nodded. She had always found weddings to be rather dull affairs, and even though her nerves were shaken, she still found it in herself to dread the length of the proceedings.

“Dearly beloved,” the vicar began. “We are gathered together here in the sight of God, and in the face of this congregation, to join together this man and this woman in holy matrimony, which is an honorable estate.”

It did not feel particularly honorable. Evelina fought the urge to fidget with her skirts. She was too aware of the drawers she wore. They were quite comfortable, and she had felt a little rebellious stirring in her chest when she put them on and gazed at herself wearing them in the mirror.

Was His Grace thinking about them? Evelina’s face grew hot as she considered the possibility that her husbandknewwhat she wore beneath her gown. No man had ever known that before. Well, she supposed all men knew in an abstract way. They knew that ladies wore stays and chemises, of course, but no man had before knownpreciselywhat she wore. Had the Duke of Rothbury seen her drawers once they were sewn and ready for her? Evelina made herself focus on the vicar’s words, whichwas difficult because thinking about the drawers made that too-familiar heat stir between her legs.

“First, it was ordained for the procreation of children, to be brought up in the fear and nurture of the Lord?—”

At least, Evelina was accomplishing that, the first God-ordained purpose of marriage. Even better, she would accomplish it quickly. That was, unless something went terribly awry. It seemed to Evelina as if she and the Duke of Rothbury were both assuming the best outcome. They were acting as though it was a certainty that they would produce an heir at once, but there were so many things which might go awry.

What if Evelina could not produce a child for some time? There were couples who spent years trying to produce a child. Or what if she had a child, and the poor baby was a stillborn? Evelina would be devastated if that transpired. Would she have the resolve to try once more after experiencing something so terrible? If she did, would the birth of a stillborn child fulfill His Grace’s conditions? Evelina could imagine him casting her aside for such a slight, for men were always so quick to blame women for their misfortunes.

“I do.”

The two words struck Evelina with as much force as a physical blow would have. She suddenly realized that His Grace’s eyes were fixed intently upon her face, and those words signified his agreement. The Duke of Rothbury had just announced his resolve to become her husband in the eyes of God and beforetheir guests. Evelina’s chest ached, but she could not discern whether the tightness spoke of panic or concern.