Chapter 3
The mark of a great man, some would say, is his ability to navigate through impossible situations with great ease. Willow’s husband appeared to be such a man. Other than his initial slip in countenance, one that had pleased her more than she cared to admit, not once did he betray emotion, even though he must be furious. It was simply impossible to tell from looking at him. But he hadknown. Somewhere during the ceremony, something had alerted him to her deceit.
And still he married her.
Bittersweet emotion centered in her chest.
She was wed to the stick-in-the-mud Duke of St. Ives. But she was married. She had done it. She had pulled it off by the skin of her teeth, but she had done it. Whether she would remain wed, Willow supposed, was another matter. Annulment was still an option.
Of course, that would leave her entire family in ruin. The papers would have a blast with this scandal as it was. Willow could just imagine the title should the duke annul the marriage.The Great Deception: Miss Middleton jilts The Duke of St. Ives only for the duke to jilt Miss Middleton.
Willow settled into the carriage just in time for the arrival of her sobbing mother-in-law. She shot the dowager a disapproving look.
The woman was making everything worse with her tears.
And then, to Willow’s amazement, the dowager collapsed into a pile of heaping skirts.
The scene was truly remarkable.
The duke swore and rushed to his mother’s side. Two footmen hurried to assist while another woman, with a hat that resembled a furry creature, revived the dowager with smelling salts.
Willow let out a sigh. The day had only just begun and she was ready for it to end.
Seconds later, her mother-in-law was settled in the carriage next to her son, who installed himself across from Willow.
A crowd had gathered, tittering behind their fans, rudely speculating about the turn of events. Just before the carriage door shut, Willow glimpsed Poppy, her face pale as a sheet of paper, eyes round with shock.
I’m sorry, Willow mouthed before Poppy was replaced by the drawn velvet curtains of the carriage door. Remorse clawed at her heart. The sisters told each other everything. And today they stood divided. Holly did not know what Willow had done and she, in return, did not know where her sister had run off to. Poor Poppy, she knew even less than the both of them.
The entire morning had been a hellish whirlwind. At least the duke had not been deserted at the altar. That ought to count for something. But one glance at his hard features told Willow it would not be as simple as all that.
“How could this have happened?” The Dowager cried. “Oh, the horror!”
Willow studied the woman in silence, peering at her from beneath her lashes. Mostly to avoid the scrutiny of St Ives. Years of pampered lifestyle had done nothing to halt the fine lines of the woman’s timeworn skin. Her salt and pepper hair should have afforded her a more seasoned appearance. Instead, her milky, fatigued eyes suggested a more dismal spirit.
“We must dissolve this travesty immediately!” The dowager carried on.
Willow gave her a sharp look. She did not want the dowager to influence the duke’s mind about dissolving their marriage. Holly had mentioned the Dragon Duchess had commandeered the wedding arrangements, hence the name. Would the woman attempt to commandeer the outcome of this marriage, too?
Willow risked a glance at her husband, startled to find those black eyes scrutinizing her, noting every little nuance of her reaction, she was sure.
She held his gaze, refusing to be intimidated. If Willow were to remain his wife, he ought to be aware she did not cower under frosty glares, and refused to be bullied by anyone, even a man as powerful as he.
“The marriage will not be dissolved.” His eyes never left hers. His voice brooked no argument.
Willow was not about to argue.
“Oh! The shame!” The dowager sobbed.
It was enough to provoke a flash of annoyance.
Apparently, the duke thought so too for he sent his mother a look of displeasure to which the duchess sniffed and looked away—silenced.
“Where is your sister?” St. Ives asked, turning his attention back to Willow.
“I’ve no idea,” Willow said, shivering when those black eyes fixed on her. For the first time, she wondered how she was going manage a husband if he proved completely unmanageable. Up until now, she had stood firm in her mind that she could. She already knew he was imperious, but what if he was unbendable?
What if he would not give an inch?
