Page 125 of Corrupting his Duchess

Julia smirked. “He might. He’s a duke, not a statue.”

Gretchen elbowed her. “You’re not helping.”

The carriage bumped over uneven stone, and Anna took a breath.

She looked out at the chapel spire rising in the distance. The bells would soon ring.

And when she stepped through those doors, he would be there.

Waiting.

The chapel bells rang before they were seen. Anna stood just outside the small stone church tucked near the edge of Mayfair, her gloved hands clasped tight around a bouquet of lilacs and ivory roses. The air was cold enough to kiss her cheeks pink. She felt the weight of the gown, soft silk and elegant with a veil gathered loosely behind her, but it was the hush before the doors opened that made her chest flutter.

Behind her, her mother was seated already, flanked by Heather, who had all but vibrated with joy since sunrise.

“Are you ready?” Julia asked, leaning in to tuck a curl behind Anna’s ear.

“No,” Anna said, breathless, her eyes threatening to water. “But I think I want to be.”

“That will do.”

The doors opened.

The light from within spilled out like warmth in winter. Henry stood near the front, tall, composed until he saw her.

Then something in his expression cracked. Just a little.

He swallowed. His hands fell to his sides, useless.

And still, he couldn’t look away.

Anna walked slowly, aware of every step, every hush, every breath held by those in attendance.

Near the front, Gretchen leaned sideways and muttered, “If he doesn’t cry, I shall do it for him.”

Nathaniel, the Duke of Frayton, seated beside her, smirked faintly. “You’re a bit sentimental, aren’t you?”

“I’m a romantic,” she whispered back. “There’s a difference.”

Nathaniel leaned closer, not taking his eyes off the front. “So if I find you sniffling, I’m to interpret that as strategy?”

“Interpret it however you like,” Gretchen replied sweetly. “You’ll still be wrong.”

He glanced at her, brow raised. She didn’t look back.

At the altar, Anna reached Henry.

He took her hands. His eyes were wet.

“You look– ” he began.

She shook her head. “Don’t. Or I might actually cry.”

He smiled then, gently. “Just as well. I already did.”

The vicar cleared his throat, smiling discreetly.

The vows were said with steady voices. No one stumbled, though Anna nearly forgot her own name when Henry looked at her like that, like the world had just narrowed to the space between them.