It had taken a great deal of convincing to get hold of a special license that would permit them to marry quickly, and he could not have done it without the support and testimony of his dearest friends. Lionel and Vincent, in particular, had helped persuade the relevant authorities that it should be allowed.
Society, on the other hand, would take longer to convince. For two weeks, the scandal sheets had been filled with judgment about Duncan and Valeria. Still, that had not stopped every significant member of the tonfrom urgently requesting an invitation to the wedding, for there was nothing society loved more than being in the heart of a scandal.
“The Crostons wrote again,” Duncan said, smirking. “The duchess outright begged, this time.”
Valeria gasped, her eyes wide. “She did not!”
“I assure you, she did. Perhaps, she thought she could convince me to marry Iphigenia instead of you,” he teased, holding her closer.
Valeria pulled a face. “Do not dare.”
“I do not plan to.” He pressed another kiss to her brow, savoring the moment. “You are my duchess. You are my love. You are my Valery. Nothing in this world could change that.”
“Not even a queen in want of a king consort?”
He laughed against her hair. “What is a queen compared to my dark angel?”
She tilted her head up, smiling at him. “I love you, Duncan.”
“As I love you,” he replied, his gaze flitting to her lips.
Pressing her palms to his chest, she rose up on tiptoe, bringing the temptation of a kiss closer. Giving her permission. His hand came up to cradle the back of her neck, his head dipping to meet her lips, moving slowly in case she changed her mind.
The air crackled between them, Valeria’s breath hitching, her eyes closing as she waited for his kiss. He was a moment away from that sweet graze, when a voice exploded from the manor, jolting them apart.
“Valery?” Aaron shouted. “Valery, where are you? Beatrice is insisting that she will wear trousers, Valery! Please, you must come and talk some sense into her!”
Valeria burst out laughing. “I shall see you at the altar, my love.”
“If I have not killed Beatrice first, I shall see you there,” Duncan replied, looking forward to the day they journeyed to Thornhill Grange, where no one would disturb them at the most inopportune moments.
“It is my pleasure to pronounce you man and wife, the Duke and Duchess of Thornhill,” the reverend said with a cheery smile, opening out his arms as if waiting for applause.
The modest congregation got to their feet, beaming with pleasure at the happy couple, as the new duke and duchess joined hands and made their way back up the aisle. The group streamed behind the pair, tossing handfuls of blossoms, cheering to the future bliss of the newlyweds.
The merriment continued as carriages deposited the guests back at Skeffington House, where the wedding breakfast began without delay, presided over by the fearsome Mrs. Mitford. Indeed, the only person who the cook looked on with fondness was Valeria, her eyes brimming with tears every time she glanced over at the couple.
“This is beautiful, Valeria!” Lionel’s sister, Rebecca, chirped.
“When I marry, I think I shall have a garden wedding,” Vincent’s youngest sister, Prudence, declared with a nod of finality. “Or, perhaps, I shall not marry at all.”
“Youmustmarry,” the middle sister, Teresa, gasped in abject horror. “It is expected.”
Duncan, observing the amusing scene with his arm around Valeria’s shoulders, pointed the rim of his champagne glass at Vincent. “Do you hear that, Wilds? It is expected.”
“Do not start with that, Lockie,” Vincent replied, rolling his eyes. “Just because you are now married, which is a miracle in and of itself, does not mean that I shall follow your lead.”
“Oh, but you dearly need a woman’s influence,” Isolde said with a sly smirk, teasing her older brother. “A wife would suit you; I know it would.”
Amelia nodded, sipping her champagne. “Are you not more inclined, now that your friends are all married? They do say that one wedding begets another.”
“I have explained,” Vincent replied, sighing. “I do not intend to eventhinkof marriage until all of my sisters have husbands, and I can be sure they are all secure. I still have two unmarried, as you can see. Please, I beg of you, let us speak of Duncan and Valeria instead. Let us speak of how relieved we all are that they have found each other, and that someone has finally made an honorable man out of him.”
Prudence pouted, raising an eyebrow. “So, if I donotmarry, then you never shall? That is an unfair amount of pressure, brother. You are the oldest;youshould have married first, not Isolde.”
“Indeed,” Beatrice teased, joining the conversation, “does that also mean thatyouare not an honorable man, considering you are not married?”
Vincent sank back in his chair, a resigned smile on his face, a weary laugh on his lips. “Respectfully, I am going to ignore you all.” He closed his eyes. “Wake me up when the conversation has changed.”
