“And you, Lady Nancy?”
Nancy spared her family a single glance, inhaled deeply, and spoke up, her voice clear and loud, “I am.”
The priest nodded curtly. “Let us begin, then.”
ChapterTwo
“Iwill wait in the carriage. Take your time saying your goodbyes,” was all her husband said to her after the ceremony came to a close.
Indeed, the wedding breezed by quickly.
Despite Nancy’s efforts to abandon all thoughts of her previous expectations of marriage that she had once held as a young girl, she couldn’t help but notice how utterly devoid the ceremony was of… feeling.
The vows were taken monotonously with neither of them making any sort of deep eye contact. Their countenance was stiff, and even the priest seemed keen to hurry things along, so he could leave.
There had been a moment when she found her soon-to-be husband’s heavy gaze raking over her form as though he were studying her intently.
The way he looked at her made her feel as if she had been laid bare before him, causing discomfort to claw at her insides as she prayed that the ceremony would move quicker, so she might be free from his unwavering stare.
Barely seconds after she made that prayer, his expression shifted back to one of boredom, and he looked away. The Duke of Wexford walked out of the church, leaving her standing alone at the altar in an odd twist of irony.
Steeling her nerves, she went to meet her family, not surprised to find them all in tears.
“You really did look beautiful,” Beatrice hiccupped as they Nancy from their seats to meet Nancy halfway down the front row.
“Is that all? We are never going to see Nancy again?” Anne questioned in alarm.
“Do not be silly. Of course, we will,” Lady Suttington scoffed, pretending that she wasn’t dabbing the corners of her eyes with a handkerchief. “We simply won’t see her as often. She has a husband now, and he takes precedence.”
“Still, I will visit as much as I can. Whenever you need me, please do not hesitate to write to me. I, too, will do the same,” Nancy said, holding out her arms towards her siblings.
They fell into her embrace, all of them either sniffling or wiping their cheeks. It pained her to let them go, but she knew she needed to be strong for their sake.
Beatrice held onto Anne while she cried, and their mother stepped forward to hug Nancy.
“Do your utmost best to be a good wife to the Duke, Nancy,” Lady Suttington whispered softly in Nancy’s ear. “Keep him happy and comfortable. He will have no qualms helping us this way.”
Nancy held onto her tightly, frightened once more by the prospect of being on her own from that moment onward. Still, she replied in the same hushed tone.
“I promise, Mama. I will do my best.”
They walked her to her husband’s carriage, waving as the coachman helped her into it.
“Do take care of yourselves,” she told her family as the carriage door was closed.
Her mother nodded with a hand resting over her heart, her eyes glistening with tears as the carriage began to roll away from the church.
Nancy kept her eyes on the carriage window, watching intently until she could no longer see her family. Then she shifted her gaze to her husband, not surprised to find him doing the same thing, his focus fixed on the scenery they passed by as they headed to the outskirts of London, where his home was located.
An uncomfortable silence filled the air, and she sighed, already aware that this was a clue to what her future held.
After a handful of minutes went by, the Duke cleared his throat and sat up even straighter than he had been. He spoke up once she had given him her attention:
“Allow me to clear whatever possible misconceptions you might have had about our union. I married you for your title and dowry only. As my wife and the Duchess of Wexford, you will be granted whatever you desire and live as lavishly as you wish in my castle. But that is as far as my generosity goes. Our marriage is meant to serve as a means to an end, so you should not expect me to make any attempts to feed into your desire for a perfect husband or to perform any sort of acts related to that.”
His tone was cold and curt, not to mention demeaning. He addressed her as though she were one of the numerous servants he had grown up with, seemingly under the impression she was to be at his beck and call.
Irritation flared within her, and she ignored the voice in her head that sounded suspiciously like her mother’s, telling her that she needed to be on her best behavior to win over the Duke.
