Page 11 of To Steal a Duchess

“I do.” The words left his mouth, unbidden, but he did swear to honor her.

And so, the wedding proceeded to its final conclusion.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife,” the priest announced, and Lady Eloise’s body stiffened at Dorian’s side.

He turned to her, leaning in close. He could smell the scent of rosemary on her, and wondered if it was perfume or if she had bathed in water scented with oils.

“We must seal our deal with a kiss, Lady Eloise,” he whispered, the words prompting her to turn to him with eyes that widened.

However, she didn’t protest. She only nodded, and Dorian took her hand in his to chastely kiss her.

But then, he lifted his face to hers, and heard the priest’s words about sealing their vows with a kiss.

So Dorian leaned in.

He did not account for the possibility of enjoying it, nor the flush of heat that went through his body. He did not account, either, for how Eloise’s breath hitched as his mouth caught hers.

His stomach swam, but he continued, for it was demanded of him, and he had demanded this of her.

Even though he willed himself to pull away, he could not. Not for another moment. He heard the smallest noise come from Lady Eloise, and Dorian’s hand almost left hers in order to cup her face.

His eyes closed as he kissed her again—only to pull away sharply.

He stared at her and wondered if he looked as bewildered as she did.

Her cheeks were pink, and she quickly looked away, as did Dorian. The kiss had made him feel… out of control.

Dorian couldn’t endure losing control, and he could only look out at the congregation that had gathered, wondering why he had reacted in such a way. Wondering what about his new wife had made his control slip so easily.

People rarely caused that in him, and he didn’t like how it left him feeling.

He glanced once more at Lady Eloise, trying to figure it out, only to look down at her mouth. His jaw tightened, and he nodded toward the church doors.

“Come,” he said, “we are to attend our wedding breakfast.”

Dorian walked away quickly, needing a moment to himself before he had to be in her presence again without anyone else there to buffer his distracting thoughts. Pressing his fingers to his brow, he tried to press the frown away as he strode out of the church to wait by the carriage. He inhaled the cool, late morning air, and tried to compose himself before Lady Eloise joined him.

By the time she emerged from the door, he had not succeeded, and his mood only soured as he opened the carriage door for her. Lady Eloise paused with one slipper on the carriage steps.

Dorian didn’t realize why until he noticed that his hand had automatically gone to her back to steady her. His hand brushed her waist, but he immediately closed it with a tight fist.

“Forgive me,” he murmured. “I simply wanted you to have some support.”

“Your Grace,” Eloise said in a gentle but teasing voice, “I can assure you that I am most capable of getting into a carriage without assistance.”

Dorian snatched his hand away as though burned, looking down. “Of course. After you, then, Duchess.”

The ride to Wittby House was short and silent, but Dorian could feel Lady Eloise’s attention sliding to him every now and then. He pointedly kept his gaze on the window and the streets passing by. Soon, they arrived, and Dorian nodded for his new wife to go first.

Lady Eloise departed the carriage gracefully, holding her skirts. She waited for him at the bottom of the short staircase up to the townhouse, and they entered together as a married couple. Her arm linked his, and they were guided to the dining room. Next to him, Lady Eloise’s breath caught as she took in the sight of their guests already gathered, waiting for them.

“Are you all right?” he asked her quietly.

“It is just strange, is all,” she answered. “I have spent a long while preparing to be wed, but entering here with you feels different. It is all so very…”

“Spontaneous?”

Lady Eloise nodded. “It feels as though my world has turned upside down.”