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“Thank you,” Emily answered, flashing a smile. “My sister styled my hair.”

“Oh, of course! You have two sisters, isn’t that right? I would have loved to have a sister. Or a brother. Any sibling at all would have been nice. It’s just me, though,” Frances added, with a regretful sigh. “Just me and Mama.”

The baroness cleared her throat, shifting her weight. She seemed a little uneasy as she reached out to take Frances’s arm.

“Well, this has been lovely, Miss B—that is,Your Grace, but we had better let you get back to your guests. Come along, Frances. Thank you for such a fine party, Your Grace. I hope you settle in well in your new role in Society. Going from a plainmissto a duchess is not an easy transition.”

Before Emily could ask the woman what, exactly, she meant, the Baroness sailed away, dragging poor Frances behind her.

Emily stood there, staring after them, then took another sip of her champagne. The feeling of hunger had somewhat faded, replaced by a faintly sickening feeling.

A bride can get a little tipsy on her wedding day, anyway,she thought as she drained her glass.

* * *

“The dancing will be starting soon,” Richard whispered. “You’ll have to dance with her, you know. Stop drinking that whiskey!”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Would you prefer I sip champagne instead?” Cassian responded sharply.

A few hours ago, he had watched Margaret make a beeline for Emily. Frances, poor child, had skipped over to them afterward, obviously keen for an introduction. He was not sure what Margaret had said to Emily, but after their conversation, Emily had been drinking champagne steadily,andavoiding his eye.

He would have to straighten out whatever had happened later on, but for now, he was forced to sit at the head table and smile appreciatively whenever people arrived to offer their congratulations.

He was aware of a growing sense of unease spreading inside him, a sense that something was wrong.

Why do I feel this way? Why should I care if Emily is not happy? I have almost won. We’re married, and once she conceives, I will have secured everything I need. I should be celebrating.

And yet he did not feellike celebrating. Again and again, his gaze was drawn to the corner of the room, where Emily sat with her friends and family. There was a smile on her face that seemed to fool everybody else, but he knew—heknewthat she was unhappy. The smile, tight and close-lipped, did not reach her eyes.

“I think she’ll make you happy, you know,” Richard commented.

“It is not about being happy or not,” Cassian snapped. “It is a question of duty.”

Richard set down his glass of champagne and stared at him. “Why are you being so sharp, Cassian?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You heard me. You are being sharp and unkind to everybody today. It is yourwedding day. I know that you never planned to marry, but now youaremarried. You speak of duty, but what about your duty to your wife? Look, she’s sitting over there. You should sit together.”

“I am quite comfortable here. Can you get me another whiskey?”

“No, you’ve had quite enough.”

The two men sat in annoyed silence, each quietly seething.

“It’s as if you’re determined to be unhappy,” Richard added quietly, after a moment. “As if you don’t believe that you deserve love.”

Cassian flinched. “I don’twantlove. I don’t need it. Look at where it got Matthew.”

“That is an entirely different situation.”

“Oh? How is it different?”

Richard let out a sharp snort. “Because Matthew was a vulnerable young man under the thumb of his awful father, andyouare the Duke of Clapton, a clever and powerful man. Besides, you’re already married to the woman you’re falling in love with.”

Cassian flinched, twisting around to glare at his cousin. “Ibegyour pardon?”

Richard, to his credit, did not flinch. He met Cassian’s eyes squarely. “You heard me. I think you are falling in love with your wife, Cass. And so what if you are?”