In spite of himself, Theodore inhaled deeply.
She truly is beautiful.
He could imagine her being a pleasant presence in the house, certainly to look at. She could be even pleasanter if she lookedat him with that same keenness and boldness that had been in those eyes before.
The Viscount halted beside Theodore, offering up Margaret’s hand. As her gloved palm was placed into Theodore’s he then saw close up everything he had missed before.
The lace gloves were frayed a little, and in her effort to hide any holes or wear in her dress, it had been sewn up, many times. A tightness constricted Theodore’s throat at the sight.
Under the cover of the organ music, he leaned toward the Viscount.
“Did you not buy her a new gown with the money I left you?”
The Viscount actually swallowed, the fear palpable in the air between them.
“He did not.” Margaret answered in his place. “Will I do, Your Grace?”
Such an anger rose in Theodore, directed purely at the Viscount, that he tucked Margaret’s hand into the crook of his arm, protectively. Had Theodore ever had a daughter, he would not have squandered the money away on gambling, as he now presumed the Viscount must have done. No, he would have bought the finest dress he could for the sum.
Steering Margaret toward the altar, he led her forward, aware that her hand now pulled tightly on his elbow.
“Your Grace –”
“Theodore.”
“What?”
“That is my name,” he whispered to her. “After today, if we are to be husband and wife, let us call each other by our Christian names. Even if that will be the only intimacy between us.”
He saw the narrowing of her eyes. Her lips parted, as if she wished to say something more, but they were out of time. The organ music had finished, and the priest had opened his bible, ready to begin.
“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today in the house of God, to bring together this man, and this woman.”
Theodore didn’t think he paid attention to much that the priest had said. Instead, he was painfully aware of Margaret beside him and her hand on his elbow. At one point, it drew very light, as if she was afraid to touch him. Without thinking, he laid his hand over hers, showing she was not to let go at this moment, for if she did, everyone in the church would see it.
We have suffered enough scandal already. We do not need anyone leaving this church whispering about how she has pulled back from me.
“Now, for the vows. Your Grace, would you repeat after me please?”
“I, Theodore Notley, Duke of Thornfield, take thee, Lady Margaret, to be my wedded wife. To have and to hold, from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish…” He paused. Such vows were strong indeed. Here he was vowing to love a person he barely knew, and her green eyes were looking back at him, blinking rather rapidly when she noted his pause. “Till death do us part.”
As he completed the vow, he saw her sigh with relief.
As the priest turned away, he saw Margaret raise her eyebrows in silent question. She wished to know exactly why he had paused.
“Later,” he practically mouthed the words to her. “I have some rules to this marriage. I shall share them with you in the carriage.”
CHAPTER SIX
Margaret smiled at her sisters. Evelina and Louisa were smiling somewhat nervously, their hands waving slowly, as Alexandra and Penelope waved with a much more eager manner.
Then the carriage door was slammed shut.
Margaret looked through the window and the white lace curtains which had been drawn nearly shut. As the carriage jerked forward, the church began to disappear, as did the sight of her sisters stood waving on the top step.
I shall no longer wake up every day to spend time with my sisters.
Swallowing around a sudden lump in her throat, Margaret turned away from the window to face the man sat opposite her.
