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He turned to face the reverend, and as the clergyman welcomed the congregation to the “wonderful celebration” and moved swiftly through the vows, he did not look at her again. Not even as she recited her oaths, and he recited his, as if she were not worthy of addressing.

In many ways, the entire ordeal felt like it was happening to someone else. Lydia was physically in the church, standing by the altar, her hand in her betrothed’s, but it was more akin to something out of a strange dream. Maybe she would awaken at any moment and find herself on the lawn beneath her favorite yew tree, a book open on her lap, grateful to discover that this had all been her vivid imagination and nothing more.

“I now pronounce you man and wife,” the reverend said, snapping her attention back to him.

In matches of love, she had witnessed husbands taking this opportunity to kiss their wives. In matches of convenience, the husband usually kissed a cheek or a hand. William did neither,choosing that moment to brush a stray petal off her shoulder, as if the sight of it offended him.

Polite congratulations and applause accompanied the newly married pair back up the aisle as William led her by the hand. A tight hold, like she might still decide to run.

So, that is it?

Lydia felt like someone had just hollowed her out.

This was her wedding day, the day she had dreamed about since she was a little girl, and… that was it. It did not matter that she intended for the marriage to be quickly undone, for he had arguably stolen the most important day of her life from her, just as he had stolen her first kiss from her.

“I think you were supposed to kiss me then,” she muttered.

He glanced down at her. “After the last time? I think not.” He lowered his voice. “I do not need to be slapped in front of a congregation.”

“I would not have slapped you this time.” She glowered at him. “I would have been polite. And I am not talking about… what you did in the library. Indeed, I never wish to speak of it again. I meant a chaste kiss on the cheek or the hand.”

He leaned closer to her ear. “But youhavethought of it, have you not?”

“What? No! Certainly not. I have tried very hard and very diligently to forget it.” She balked.

“Good. Expect nothing,” was his unsatisfactory remark. “You cannot say you were not warned.”

As they headed out of the church together to where the carriage awaited, Lydia would have done anything to slap him a second time. But her gratification would have to come later, when he would not see the strike until it was too late and she had her freedom back in her own hands.

Play games with mylife, Your Grace, and you shall lose as you have never lost before.

For she drew her ideas from her beloved books, her library a vast arsenal just waiting to be plumbed for war, and she was prepared to use every weapon in it until she got him to submit.

Every time he rankled her, it would only be fuel to her fire, making her all the more determined that he should rue the day he decided to force her into marriage.

CHAPTER 7

Anthony jabbed William in the ribs. “Forgive me if I am mistaken, for I have never married before, but I believe you are supposed to dance with your wife. You are not supposed to mingle with the guests, speaking to everyonebutyour wife.”

They were in the ballroom at Stonebridge House, which the staff had spent all week scrubbing and repairing as best they could. Truly, William thought it quite remarkable what could be hidden with some carefully placed, and painstakingly painted, dust cloths.

Even so, there was an unmistakable, faded glory to the room, not to mention the rest of the manor. A sad decay that no amount of paint or soap could fully eradicate.

“I sat beside her during the wedding breakfast. I said at least three things to her,” William replied, searching the room. In truth, he had no idea where his wife was. “I asked if she would pass me the salt, I said her bonnet was nice, and I enquired asto whether or not she liked the fish. It was the quietest I have known her to be, and rather pleasant it was, too.”

Anthony gave him a withering look. “It is expected, Brother. You must dance with her.”

“I have done what is expected. I have married someone. The rest is optional.”

Anthony grabbed William’s arm. “Must I drag you to her myself?”

“I should like to see you try.” William laughed, for though his brother was not small or puny by any means, he was no match for him. Anthony knew it as well as he did.

“Just… give the poor girl a little flourish of joy, would you?” Anthony said, exasperated. “You embarrassed her at the church when you did not even kiss her cheek. You embarrassed her at the wedding breakfast by talking to Sir Matthew the entire time. It does not matter if this is a marriage of convenience, Brother. It does not hurt to make your wife feel… liked, at least! In your case, appreciated for her sacrifice.”

William arched an eyebrow. “What sacrifice? She is getting more than most ladies could dream of.”

“But what hasshedreamed of?” Anthony challenged. “A better wedding day than you are giving her, I am certain.”