Page 9 of A Bride for the Forbidden Duke (Forbidden Lords #2)

Chapter Nine

T he church was a grand thing, and yet, as Veronica entered it, she did not feel peaceful.

Her mother entered before her with a brief parting embrace and stood at the front of the pews, alone.

My brother and father should be here , Veronica thought, allowing herself a moment of grief before she composed herself and looked beyond her mama.

A man in a black suit, peering at her through small spectacles, stood to the right. The Duke’s solicitor, then.

And then there was the Duke himself.

He stood as intimidating as ever, his presence filling even the lofty church. His back was to her, but his shoulders were broad, and his dark hair had been brushed back, grazing his jacket collar. He wore a deep, luxurious navy jacket, and it was only when he turned to finally face her that she saw the waistcoat beneath. It was beautiful but simple as her gown was.

Necessary , she thought again. This is all a simple act of necessity.

She walked down the aisle, and the Duke averted his gaze—likely to check she was indeed proceeding to do her agreed duty and not running away—and turned his back to her. Veronica tampered down her annoyance and joined him at the altar. A vicar stood before them both.

“We shall keep this brief,” the Duke instructed.

“I expected nothing else from you,” Veronica answered curtly.

“I do not care for weddings as I said,” he told her tightly.

They continued through the ceremony in silence until finally, they said I do at the right moments.

The Duke kept his back straight and gazed ahead, not once looking at her. His chin was lifted, his hands at his sides. Every inch the man of honor and duty. When the time came for her ring to be slipped on, he was quick about it and pulled away from any contact, but just as he was about to truly part their touch, he hesitated.

Veronica’s eyes were fixed on his fingers still clasping the edge of her ring finger. Warmth shivered through her as she pulled away. For the first time, his eyes met hers, and a deep flush seared her before he looked away.

“We are done,” he said, nodding once. “Let us depart.”

He turned to his solicitor, nodding his thanks.

“I must say goodbye to my mama,” Veronica pleaded. “I cannot leave her without a farewell!”

“I do not have time to waste?—”

“Once I am in Westley Manor, I am to follow your orders, am I not? I would ask for a few moments to bid my mama goodbye.” Her voice was a hiss, but she softened, not wanting to stoke his well-known ire.

“Very well,” he told her, stepping aside. He checked that infernal pocket watch and snapped it closed. “You have five minutes.”

All I would need is five minutes alone with him to speak my mind , she thought angrily but hurried over to her mama.

“Mama,” she said, tears stinging her eyes as her mother grasped her hands in hers.

“My darling,” Judith said softly, her eyes glimmering with her own unshed tears. “Do not cry. You are the woman of your new household now. You will make the world’s finest duchess.”

Her mama nodded, her mouth tight with emotion. “Oh—do come here! Give your mama another hug.”

And Veronica fell into her mother’s arms for a moment, allowing herself a few tears. She did not care about being a fine duchess. She cared about her mother’s safety. She cared about her vulnerability without Veronica being there to look out for her.

The Duke has promised financial assistance , she reminded herself. She will be safe. Lord Barwicke will cause no more trouble .

Judith pulled back, cupping her face. Her head tilted, as if she could not help looking one last time at her daughter. Veronica could not help leaning in for another embrace.

“I love you, Mama.”

“I love you, my dear girl.”

A throat cleared behind them. Veronica pulled away to see the Duke hovering. Everything was concise with him, timed to the exact second. The care from the garden had dissipated.

Why did you not include this when you came to my home? he had asked.

He truly does not care, or he would not continue to rush me .

“We must leave,” he said. Veronica was hurt but pulled away, nodding. Judith pressed a kiss to her forehead, nodding as if to say it was okay to depart.

Together, the Duke and Veronica walked out of the church.

I am wed , she thought. I am wed to the Duke of Westley .

The Duke’s personal carriage awaited them, a black, glossy exterior, and a dark interior with curtains pulled over the windows. He climbed in first before Veronica followed suit. Her mama stood at the church, waving tearfully, even as the carriage pulled away.

Veronica held back her tears as her mother got smaller and smaller.

They began their journey towards Westley Manor, and Veronica did not know what sort of life awaited her.

“You did not have to rush me out of the church,” Veronica could not help but snap as soon as her mama was out of sight.

The Duke paid her no mind, and if she did not notice the tick in his cheek of annoyance at being challenged or spoken to, she would have thought him not listening at all.

“You were taking too long with your mother,” he answered her, not bothering to look at her when he spoke.

It made Veronica’s teeth clack together in irritation that she fought to hold back. But she wondered why she bothered to confine herself to being dutifully obedient.

“I am your wife now,” she told him. “I shall start speaking up for myself. That includes protesting the fact that I had a right for a proper goodbye with my own mama.”

“As you please, Duchess Veronica.”

“Who knows when I shall see her again?” Veronica raised her voice.

But the Duke’s eyes still did not lift to her. She had half a mind to pull his face to hers, to make him see her.

“You can visit Lady Grantham whenever you like,” he said. “If you do not, that is none of my concern.” He frowned. “That reminds me that I must elaborate.”

“On what?”

“The conditions of our marriage,” he intoned.

Finally, he looked at her, and she was suddenly regretting wanting his attention. The second those brown eyes lifted to hers, her heart stuttered.

What is this madness ?

“Once Robert has been found…” he trailed off, and she heard dead or alive , suddenly grateful he had not been as blunt as in the garden the other night, “… we shall live separately. As to the matter of now, you shall do as you please as the Duchess of Westley. Of course, you will be discreet.”

There he goes with his orders , she thought, aggravated.

“However,” he continued sharply, “you must not ask questions about what I do or where I go. That is my business and mine alone. Being duchess does not grant you power over me or a right to know everything. If you stay out of my business, then I shall stay out of yours.”

The air grew thick with meaning.

“Do you mean to have mistresses, then, Your Grace?” she asked, her voice hard.

The Duke scoffed, looking away from her.

“It is true that many married men take mistresses, is it not? I would not think a man such as yourself would be above honor to a wife he did not even choose.”

“I was fully aware of my choices when I made them.” He gave her a withering look.

“Regardless, I received a pity proposal. One of duty, no doubt. So I do not wish to fool myself into thinking that you will not sneak out to warm another woman’s bed.”

“I shall go where I please when I please. Understood?”

His face was suddenly very close to hers, his hand fisted on the carriage bench, ever so close to her leg. She tensed, now aware of how heavily she breathed from their argument and how her chest rose and fell.

The Duke’s eyes bore into her, flickering over her face. His hand moved closer to her skirt-clad leg, but before he could move closer, and before Veronica could question what he was doing, the carriage pulled to a stop.

“If I take a mistress,” he said to her, his voice pitched low, sending a curl of dangerous heat through Veronica, “then it will not come with your permission.”

And although his words betrayed their very marriage, convenient or not, his voice dripped with rich velvet, and Veronica fought a shiver.

“We have arrived, Your Grace,” a voice called from outside.

Yet the Duke did not move. Not for another few moments, in which he only held her gaze with intent. And then a low, frustrated noise emanated from his throat before he pulled back and opened the carriage door and stalked towards the manor. Stunned, Veronica followed slowly, giving her hand to the carriage footman, who helped her down.

Either side of the sweeping staircase into the manor, the staff lined up in two neat rows, all of them with their hands clasped and polite smiles on their faces. But she noted their surprise.

She nodded, greeting each of them, until she got to a woman with a low bun that was graying and a kind but tired smile on her face.

“Your Grace,” she said, curtseying to Veronica.

I shall have to get used to that .

The Duke shook his head, having waited at the top of the staircase. “Mrs. Nelson,” he introduced. “My housekeeper. But as soon as Veronica opened her mouth to greet the housekeeper, the Duke strode into Westley Manor, leaving her behind.

She tried to stifle her shock.

Mrs. Nelson smiled at her again. “Pay no mind to the Duke, Duchess,” she said. “He is a very busy man, and you are in the beautiful countryside where you shall find peace. I have prepared your chambers. I shall show you to them.”

Indeed, Veronica spared a glance at the neat expanse of fields surrounding Westley Manor.

She steeled herself for her new life right before Mrs. Nelson beckoned her inside.