Page 14 of All Duke and Bothered

Dark wooden panels on the walls had painted motifs of medieval lords and ladies, peasants, hunts, and battles that looked like they belonged in a monk’s book.

Chinese vases and a marble bust stood on an intricately carved, dark sideboard surrounded by beautifully carved, gilded chairs.

Centuries-old portraits of prominent men and women, their faces almost white against a black background, stared at her from the walls of the hall. The artwork was masterful, and despite herself, she ached to stop and study every detail.

Those must be previous generations of Dukes and Duchesses of Grandhampton. She was marrying the twelfth Duke of Grandhampton. And yet, she wanted none of this grandeur, none of these riches.

Though her father was a baron, his station and holdings were far below the duke’s. This was a different world. And she knew that nothing would ever be the same for her.

When they entered the ballroom, she saw that her future husband, as well as several of his family members, stood on the far side of the room, next to a vicar. Unlike the previous rooms, this one was bright, with clear-paned windows casting light on the pale gray walls. Pillars supported mahogany beams that were arranged in a grid of rectangles against the coffered ceiling.

Her short heels clicked hollowly against the wooden floor. Her chest felt empty. The whole house, despite the artwork and architecture, and no doubt, centuries of history, felt desolate. Staged.

It seemed empty and cold, and it smelled dusty, despite, she was sure, a large contingent of maids. It didn’t feel like home.

As the duke’s dark gaze fell on her, her stomach dropped. She felt naked in her eggshell-colored gown. The skirt of it was heavy and tangled between her legs as she walked.

Tears blurred her vision. Helpless tears of anger. She couldn’t even see who the guests were as she passed by them.

The vicar droned on and on, Penelope not really hearing him until he asked the question that would change her life. The duke, standing by her side, wore a black tailcoat and black pantaloons. His very presence next to her burned her skin through her clothes.

“I do,” he said, his voice like a rumble in her bones.

“I do,” she echoed, not recognizing her own voice.

And then he was putting the ring on her finger with his big, scalding, masculine hands. When her turn came, she shoved the ring on his finger with all the force she had and met his amused gaze.

The quill in her hand felt cold and hard as she signed the church register. Her signature looked shaky. Her husband’s—sharp edges and lines.

Just like him.

And then the transaction was finished; they were married.

The guests came to congratulate them.

The Dowager Duchess of Grandhampton smiled compassionately at her.

“Congratulations, my dear,” she said, “and welcome to the family. I’m delighted to have a new granddaughter.”

Then came a man who resembled Spencer and Preston but had auburn hair and a softer, more pleasant expression than Penelope’s new husband. His name was Richard—her new brother-in-law.

“Congratulations, brother,” he said, shaking her husband’s hand. “Many happy years.” He moved to Penelope and nodded to her, his blue eyes warm. “If he gives you trouble, call on me.”

Penelope gave a polite smile. Surely, he couldn’t mean it. “I appreciate it, Lord Richard. Thank you.”

He moved on, and a tall young woman with thick auburn hair and intense blue eyes approached.

“Please call me Calliope,” she said with a kind smile. “I’m ever so pleased to finally have a sister.”

Ah, that was her new sister-in-law. Penelope’s heart warmed. Her husband’s entire family, including the deceased Spencer, were kinder to her than the man she had married.

Then came Sebastian, Duke of Loxchester, with his wife, Emma. He was a striking man with dark blond hair who warmly congratulated her. The Duchess of Loxchester was a pretty woman with dark brown hair and a smile that lit up the room.

“Please, call me Emma,” the duchess said. “My husband and yours are best friends, and I’d very much like it if you and I could be great friends, too. Please, call on me whenever. For tea, a walk in the Vauxhall Gardens or if you need anything, anything at all.”

“Thank you,” said Penelope, smiling for the first time in days. “I’d like that very much!”

Papa and Alex were the final two guests. Alex congratulated the duke and Penelope heartily. But Papa only dryly shook the duke’s hand and hemmed to her, a bitter smile never leaving his face.