Page 28 of A Virgin for the Ton’s Wolf (Ton’s Wolves #4)
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
S he had thought only women of a certain age—like her mama—suffered from nerves. Either that or she had aged decades in the two weeks that it took to plan her wedding.
“Dearest, is something amiss?” Alice asked when Scarlett finally managed to pull her aside for a minute. “You look just about as radiant as a ghost.”
“Do you mean that you can see right through me?” Scarlett joked weakly.
The Duchess of Blackthorn nodded. “You have never been able to hide much from me. I have known you for far too long. Been with you through far too much. This is the first time I have seen you so uncertain.”
That was because her friend was not marrying a man who had just told her he was not going to consummate their marriage. At this point, Scarlett did not know if no intercourse was just as bad as disappointing intercourse.
Or maybe they were tied right there at the very top of the things she wanted to avoid in her marriage.
Then you should never have become entangled with the Wolf , she sighed inwardly.
Marrying a rogue and living as a spinster? Nobody would believe her if she said it out loud.
“I am just not sure this is the right thing to do,” she told her friend, wringing her hands nervously. “Mama is over the moon that I am marrying a duke, no matter the circumstances surrounding it. Her Grace is only too elated that he is finally getting married. And then…”
And then there were the two of them. No two people were as wrong for each other as they were.
This marriage had the potential to be the worst mistake she would ever make—or the most rewarding risk she would ever take.
Scarlett just did not like having to hover so precariously between the two. Or having her best friend regard her with laughter in her eyes.
“I do not understand your amusement in this matter,” she said in frustration. “There are so many ways this marriage could go wrong.”
“And so many more ways it could go right,” Alice reminded her gently. She took Scarlett’s hand in her own and squeezed it. “Marriage is a gamble, dearest Scarlett. Even I had misgivings about Colin when we… well, you know well enough what happened between us.”
Oh, yes, Scarlett did. Loving a Wolf was never so easy. Alice, Evelyn, and Phoebe—they were some of the bravest and strongest women she had ever known.
And now she was going to join their ranks. As the Duchess of the most feared Wolf.
“Colin is different,” Scarlett told her friend sadly. “And Hudson… well, I do not know what to make of him.”
He twisted her insides into knots and more knots, snarling and tangled and messy. He made her yearn and then pushed her away in the same breath. He was as complicated as they came and everything she warned herself never to fall for.
And yet, heaven help her, she could not seem to stay away from him. All good sense seemed to flee whenever she was with him.
“You alone know the desires of your heart.” Her best friend smiled at her. “And you are far braver and stronger than anyone I know. If there is anyone who can make the Wolf come around, it would be you.”
“But does it have to be me?” Scarlett protested, frustration edging her voice.
Alice raised an eyebrow. “Would you rather it was somebody else marrying him right now?”
Hudson? With another woman?
Scarlett felt her insides twist painfully.
“And even worse, would you rather it was somebody else waiting for you at the altar today?”
That was even worse if such a thing was possible.
Alice smiled and patted her hand. “Then you already have your answer.” She pressed a kiss to her forehead and stood up. “I shall give you a moment to compose yourself.”
Scarlett felt her lips quirk at that. “How do you know I will not attempt to run away and cause another scandal?”
Her best friend simply laughed. “You won’t.”
She spoke it with far more certainty than Scarlett herself possessed. As if she believed in something that only seemed to elude her.
For a moment, Scarlett simply sat there, at a loss for what to do. Beyond the door, she could hear the excited chatter of her friends and her mama’s apprehensive voice rising above the din every now and then. Inside, there was a stillness that was almost unreal.
She took out a folded piece of paper she had tucked into her glove earlier. It had lost the crispness it possessed when she first wrote it by the light of a candle, pouring onto it the deepest, darkest desires of her heart.
Desires that she could never divulge to anyone, save for one man.
Hudson .
She smiled a little when she saw the first item on her list.
Kiss a man .
She had been so young, back then. Giddy with the thought of finding a love match in a sea of people all looking for a transactional marriage.
In the end, she had been kissed by a man—and not just a disappointing kiss in the bushes at that. A true kiss that made her toes curl and upended her entire world.
2. Have a lover touch me intimately.
He did that to her, too. Twice. And opened her eyes to a pleasure she had not even thought possible.
She had added that to her list after hearing the married ladies talk about it when they thought she was not listening. She had learned then that a husband’s touch was not the same as a lover’s.
That a lover’s touch could be so much more pleasurable.
Now, she knew better—Hudson was superior in every aspect.
There were several more items on her list, but none of them mattered now. Not when Hudson wanted a white marriage. Not when her husband did not intend to touch her.
Nor did he want her to find a lover of her own.
She bit back the few choice words she had reserved for the scoundrel she was about to marry and tossed the list into the fire. There was no point in crying over it now. She had made her decision, and she was going to face its consequences, whatever they may be.
She stood up and rushed to the door to find Phoebe on the other side, her hand poised to knock.
“There you are,” Phoebe breathed. Her eyes surveyed Scarlett as if searching for some mysterious ailment. “Listen. If you are afraid of the Wolf, I can?—”
Her sentence was cut off when Scarlett suddenly hugged her. Phoebe seemed to stiffen before she returned the hug.
“Thank you, Phoebe, but I have to refuse,” Scarlett said, smiling brightly at her friend. “And I am not afraid of the Wolf—I am even contemplating kicking him in the shins if he insists on being a blockhead.”
Phoebe smiled and heaved a sigh of relief. “Well then, you just may be the perfect bride for him because I have never met a man who deserves his shins being battered more than your husband-to-be.”
Scarlett shook her head. “It’s not like I have any other choice, is it?”
Phoebe smiled at her. “You always have a choice,” she told her and jauntily linked their arms. “And we will always have your back, whatever it may be.”
Scarlett smiled, her heart feeling lighter at her friend’s words. Her husband-to-be might cause her more apprehension than a losing hand would to a dandy up to his ears in debt, but she had the best friends a woman could ask for.
As they stepped through the door, she lifted her chin.
I am ready.
The Dukes of Wolverton were never anxious—they were merely impatient. Irritated. Infuriated .
So, naturally, Hudson would follow in the footsteps of his illustrious ancestors and calmly await the arrival of his bride.
When the hour of the wedding came, he was expectant. Five minutes later, he was getting impatient. Fifteen minutes in, he was irritated.
No, he was most definitely not anxious. Not even when Ethan bent his head to Colin to whisper something. Not even when both men exchanged looks.
Hudson smiled and inwardly clenched his fists.
Just where the hell is she?!
“Your bride is almost ready,” Colin told him. “Do not tear the flowers down yet.”
“I will do no such thing.”
How could they even consider it? Well, his fingers did flex quite frequently, after all, even when he was not looking at floral frippery.
“I know that look, Wolf,” Ethan said with a shake of his head. “Trust me—Phoebe said that she will be out in a?—”
His words were cut off when the musicians, who had started to regard each other with not-so-anxious looks, chose that precise moment to play the music for the bride’s march down the aisle.
Daniel smirked. He did not even bother to hide the slight look of boredom he usually affected at social events. “Right about now,” he finished for Ethan.
All that, however, was lost on Hudson, who could only stare at the door to the chapel, transfixed. Spellbound. Rendered speechless by the sight of her standing there.
The morning sunlight shone behind her so that she seemed limned in a radiant, golden light that matched the soft golden color of her gown. Her rich, fiery hair had been swept into an elegant knot at the nape of her neck, held together by jeweled pins fashioned into a spray of flowers, with wayward locks framing that stunningly beautiful face so elegantly.
When she took the first step towards him, his heart seemed to stutter foolishly in his chest. And then it thudded to the beat of her every step.
Whatever exorbitant amount the much-vaunted Madame Dumosse demanded of him, he would gladly pay for the sheer pleasure of seeing Scarlett walk down the aisle in her full bridal regalia all over again.
Just how the hell was he supposed to keep his hands to himself now?
He felt a slight nudge to his ribs and found Ethan grinning mischievously at him.
“Old friend.” Ethan chuckled. “If you intend to keep that idiotic vow of yours, then might I advise you to keep a lot of cold water at hand? You are going to be needing that for as long as you insist on being stubborn.”
He was so fortunate that Hudson did not intend to cause a scandal on his wedding day that might detract from the attention his lovely bride was getting.
That and the fact that Scarlett now stood in front of him, and he suddenly found himself unable to breathe. Was this what the poets meant when they coined the term breathtaking ?
“You look absolutely spectacular,” he murmured to her.
Her eyes flashed to his face in surprise. And then her lips curled into a smile that had that long-defunct organ in his chest hammering against his ribs.
“Is that the truth?”
Hudson bit back a groan at the sensual cadence of her voice. He had a feeling that the whole ton was going to be abuzz with how he was practically undressing his bride with his eyes in front of the minister before the wedding was over.
The rest of the ceremony barely registered as he kept looking back at her, his hands longing to trace her curves once more. To sink into her soft, willing flesh…
It was the longest hour of his life.
And then it was time to kiss the bride.