Tristan shook his head as she came closer to him in his mind’s eye.
“There is no need,” he said at last while Julian studied him thoughtfully. “It shall be a simple wedding in the local village, just as she requested. She will reside here, close to her home, and we shall get on well enough.”
He’d considered making up a reason to delay. But if anything, it seemed their wedding was more urgent than ever. His stomach clenched in uneasy anticipation.
“Then a toast to you and a toast to the heavens. May you have a wife who brings you joy and makes you smile. A wife you can endure with whatever you consider to be gladness,” Julian teased.
They toasted, and Tristan wondered whether he was as unhappy as his friends believed him to be, or whether he was simply lying to himself.
CHAPTER 6
“You should have married him the following day, Verity,” Eugenia chided as she fixed her gloves up her arms. “What if he does not appear at the church?”
“Then he would have a very sorry name for himself,” Verity said. Then, in a confident tone, she added, “He will be here, I’m certain of it. Now, are you ready to leave?”
“Oh, bother, I’ve lost my hat. I had better find it.”
Off her aunt went, pretending to be a dodgy fool just to give her a moment alone in her bedchamber. Which would not be her bedchamber any longer after this morning.
It was time to be on their way to the village, where she would marry a duke and start a new life.
She didn’t particularly care for the idea.
It’s too late to change anything now. If only I kept my mouth shut…
Perhaps she should have done things differently. But it was too late now. And her aunt had hinted at what she already knew: the village was talking. Rumors continued to spread. A neighbor had stopped by yesterday, noting that their cousin already knew about it in Hampshire.
On and on the story would spread about, risking her reputation and good name if she didn’t marry at once.
Still, Verity had needed a delay. Just a short one. Just enough time to ensure that she had enough support on her wedding day. Sure, her aunt would be there, but she feared that would not be enough.
“Darling, there you are!” In strutted Lady Helena Marsten.
As Verity’s one true friend for several years, Helena had made her mark as the Diamond of the Season when they had first debuted. She proved it even now, many years later, with her fashionable dark red gown and ruby jewelry. Her red lips curled into a pout as she turned Verity around to inspect her.
“You look terribly morose for a bride. I feel as though you might drown if you so much as take another breath! Are you certain you wish to do this?”
“Were you certain about your own wedding?” Verity shot back.
Tutting, Helena shook her head. “That isn’t fair, Verity. Our situations are entirely different. I married for security, and you are marrying for… What is it again?”
“It’s still security. My name, Helena. My honor. It must be done. The rumors would have reached your estate eventually had I not asked for you to come—for which I am grateful. But you must set aside your concerns, as this wedding shall proceed. The vicar wishes to check on his mother before the day is out, and once he goes, I doubt he would return.”
“As if he has no care for you? Nonsense.”
Verity waved her off and headed to the door. “His mother is ailing and refuses to leave her house. Come along, Helena. It shan’t take more than a quarter of an hour.”
“You are still more thrilled than I am, for which I am grateful,” her friend muttered dryly. “Very well, let’s go.”
Once in their cramped carriage, Verity tried not to sneeze at the musty scent and focused on the scenery. Beside her, Helena and Eugenia bantered about the decent weather and the life of widows.
Eventually, they arrived at the chapel in Halewood.
Tutting, Helena shot her a look. “This would look more festive, were it a funeral.”
The three of them clambered out of the carriage, and Helena and Eugenia made their way onto the stone walkway, leaving Verity behind.
A wave of nausea suddenly hit her like a storm. She paused, breathing in slowly.
