Page 10 of To Steal a Duchess

“I am not,” Dorian said firmly. “I am merely waiting for her to arrive.”

“Ah, her,” Gideon chuckled. “Her, the woman who wrote to you, whom you swept in and saved and⁠—”

“Shush.” Dorian’s command was too harsh. “I cannot… I cannot right now.”

Instead of silencing himself, Gideon spoke. “You wish to save your lady, do you not?”

At Dorian’s silence, Gideon smiled, satisfied. “I am right, I know it. You love having control, no?”

Dorian clenched his jaw. “I said stop, did I not?”

“Does that change anything, Dorian? Does that change your need for control, as awfully as it controls you?”

Dorian raised his eyes. “My control is everything, and you know all that I need to command, Gideon. I will not be questioned.”

And at his command, not as harsh as it may have sounded, Gideon fell silent, and they both cast their eyes toward the bride waiting at the far end of the aisle.

Lady Eloise was there, dressed in the gown that Dorian had acquired.

He did not know if she was the type of lady to be draped in tulle and lace, but he had chosen based on what he had seen of her, and he could only hope that she held no resentment for him over the choice.

Still, his mouth dried as he beheld her. Every fall of fabric hugged Lady Eloise’s curves, and, for a weak moment, Dorian was ready to walk his way down the aisle to meet her. She was a goddess incarnate, beautiful in a way that her former wedding gown hadn’t shown enough.

Now, Dorian did not know what to do with the sight of his bride.

His mouth remained dry even as he swallowed hard.

He could not look away from Lady Eloise.

He watched her as she ascended closer, her hair catching the candlelight in the church. Dorian was enraptured for a brief moment before he tore his attention away as she joined him at the altar.

He did not like the loss of control Lady Eloise seemed to bring over him. He did not intend to limit her freedoms, but he needed to at least keep control over his own will.

He focused on the priest instead. “Please,” Dorian said, clearing his throat, “proceed.”

He needed this ordeal over with, so, at the very least, he did not have to think about it anymore. Least of all to think of his… of his⁠—

His duchess.

The mere title made Dorian’s head swim, for he had done his duty in terms of finding information out about a man, but he had not expected a wife when Lady Eloise’s letter had arrived at his townhouse. However, the offer had simply made sense; it helped them both.

The priest began to read from a religious passage, but Dorian barely heard anything over the roaring noise in his head. “A man will honor and be loyal to his wife. He will swear loyalty and fealty by her. He will stand by her through any storm, and we witness that here today.”

Lady Eloise was a beacon beside him, and he wasn’t able to ignore her. He was too aware of her being there, at his side, becoming his wife.

Dorian could not stop his thoughts: how could he swear fealty to Lady Eloise when he did not know her, when he did not know how to care to care for her,

Still, he nodded.

“Of course,” Dorian swore.

“And do you, Duke of Oldcliff, promise to love and cherish Lady Eloise for as long as you have her as your wife?”

Dorian paused.

Love and cherish.

That was never part of the bargain.