Page 5

S eth left the room, his heart thudding, his hands twisting angrily at his back. He could not remember ever being so furious; the depth of his anger surprised him.

Why does it matter what the chit thinks? She is hardly worthy of my time.

Walking down the steps toward the entrance hall, he glanced at the servants, who scurried away as he approached.

The whole staff seemed to be on tenterhooks ahead of the wedding. He had even heard his housekeeper shouting at one of the maids that morning, which was unusual.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, his fingers pulled at his sleeve again, his gut churning unpleasantly.

Am I nervous? Impossible!

He would do his duty as his father had commanded and marry Lady Alicia Holton as agreed. What he had said to her was true—they would live separate lives, and he would see as little of her as possible.

Perhaps they would have to come together to produce an heir—that was the point of marriage, after all—but other than that, she would be free to do as she wished.

Standing in the silent hallway, he listened to the clinking of cutlery below stairs and the gentle murmur of voices.

He drew in a long breath as he clutched his sleeve again, wishing he could walk into the church and see Gordon standing at the head of the aisle as his groomsman.

There was no doubt in his mind that his best friend would have been with him today. Gordon had always been a gentle man. Practical and forthright, but kind. He would doubtless be appalled by what Seth had said to his intended.

“But you are not here,” Seth muttered under his breath. “Damn you to hell.”

Pain—ruthless, familiar pain—lanced through his chest, and he rubbed at it absently, his heart aching. In his mind’s eye, Gordon’s face appeared, distorted by time, his soft smile only a memory.

Have I remembered it correctly? Am I beginning to forget his face?

The last time he ever saw it was in the moonlight, lifeless and cold.

A door opened nearby with a sharp click, and he quickly strode out of the front door, not wanting to be caught dithering by the butler.

A duke must be decisive in all things, even on his wedding day.

His feet crunched over the gravel as he left the house, and he turned left toward the small church where the ceremony would take place.

Doubtless, Lucas, Michael, and Isaac would be there today. He knew they would be; he had sent the invitations.

Yet the prospect of seeing his friends from Eton held no joy for him. He wished they were not there, that he could ignore them and spend his time in solitude as he had done until now.

The sight of them only made Gordon’s absence all the more painful. He hated the thought that they were all living their lives as normal when his best friend’s existence had been so cruelly cut short.

What happened to him?

It was a question that had plagued Seth ever since he had seen that puddle of blood on the ground. Gordon’s wide, lifeless eyes would haunt him until his last breath.

Scowling to himself, he huffed loudly, pushing the unpleasant image away as he strode toward the church, attempting to focus on the day ahead.

The truth of the matter was that this marriage was a nuisance. He had no desire to take a wife, but if he did not, he would lose his inheritance.

His solicitor had been very clear when he had read his father’s will that if Seth did not take a wife, he would lose the estate and all of his other properties.

My father knew me better than I thought.

The late Duke doubtless saw Seth’s propensity for solitude after Gordon’s death as a weakness and added such terms to force him into Society.

It was vexing, but not insurmountable. Once the ceremony was over, he could continue as before. Nothing would change.

His mind drifted to the tiny woman he had just left, her small body beneath his, wide blue eyes glaring up at him with an air of defiance he had not expected.

She might have been frightened of him, but she was not cowed by him like so many debutantes. There was a fire there, burning quietly in the depths of that sapphire gaze.

Seth reached the door to the church, nodding to an acquaintance as he made his way into the gloom within, the stained glass casting dappled shapes across the floor.

She will learn her place and keep it.

Fire can be extinguished. Mine certainly was.

Alicia walked down the gravel path to the church, the sickness that she had been trying to suppress coming to the fore as she saw the little building ahead. She could see several dark shapes gathering inside.

The church was packed .

“So many people,” she said weakly.

Her father, who was walking at a leisurely, almost disinterested pace beside her, harrumphed. “Of course. I want the world to know that you have made a good match just as your sister did.”

Alicia scowled. She felt like a chess piece being moved across a board she could not see.

Her father’s bushy eyebrows were set in a frown as he watched the church, and she could already hear the rumble of voices.

She was not sure what she had been expecting, but it certainly was not the large congregation waiting for her. She had pictured a small, intimate ceremony, and now, she was on display in front of almost one hundred strangers.

The stone church was beautiful, neat, and secluded, with wildflowers growing around the sides. Their bright petals bobbed in the breeze, mocking her miserable mood.

As she walked, her train snagged on the stones behind her, and she hoped they would rip the fabric to shreds by the end of the day. She wished Jane were beside her instead of their father, her whole body beginning to shake with nerves.

They reached the entrance of the church, where the Earl gave her a single nod before leaving her alone.

It was as if a chasm opened beneath her feet when he walked away.

Could I run? Perhaps there is a horse here and I could escape and run as fast and as far as I can.

But it would be folly. If the Duke did not find her, her father would, and there would be hell to pay for such insubordination. She was not ignorant of how fortunate she’d been that most of his wrath and attention had been directed at Jane during their childhood.

Her sister had put up with a great deal in the face of their father’s unpredictable moods. Alicia knew if she were to defy him now, the consequences would be swift and brutal.

Clutching her skirt, she heard the shuffle of feet and creaking of wood as the congregation rose to greet her.

She placed one foot in front of the other, trying to shut out everything around her, especially the dark, solitary figure at the head of the aisle.

The Duke radiated authority. There wasn’t a flicker of emotion on his handsome face, his lips pursed, his gaze sharp and brooding.

He followed her every move like a cat might watch a mouse.

Finally, after what felt like five lifetimes, she came to stand beside him. There was no groomsman; the space behind him was empty.

Why would a murderer need friends?

Her fingers jerked away involuntarily as he offered his hand, and she had to fight every instinct to force her fingers against his palm.

The Duke’s body radiated heat, his fingers like a brand against her skin as she glanced his way. He did not look at her, dead, cold eyes watching the vicar as he stepped forward.

Alicia held her breath, forcing down the scream that threatened to erupt from her lips.

All the planning and preparations in the lead-up to this moment had not felt real. Somehow, she had still convinced herself that the wedding would not take place, that something would destroy the alliance.

Yet here I am, about to fall into the abyss.

“If any of you knows cause, or just impediment, why this union should not take place, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

Alicia bit her tongue so hard that she tasted blood. The Duke was a statue, silent as a grave beside her.

She fancied that if someone had dropped a handkerchief onto the stone floor at that moment, it would have been the loudest noise in the world.

But no one spoke, not even her sister.

The vicar gave her a reassuring smile as he looked down at his book to continue.

My fate is sealed, then. I will be bound to this man, this criminal, forever.

As the vicar pronounced them man and wife, Alicia’s blood pounded violently in her ears, a throb filling her whole body as she turned to the Duke.

She knew that as soon as she faced the crowd, she would have to smile and pretend to be thrilled at what had taken place, but she would not waste any smiles on this man.

The Duke looked down at her, stepping toward her as he had done in her bedchamber, his big body carrying the same warning it had earlier.

I could well imagine this man ending someone’s life if they had wronged him. What will he do if I do not meet his expectations?

Seth stared at his bride, feeling numb.

The wedding had been a blur, his thoughts muddled and confused as he stood beside her, the vicar’s words barely registering in his mind.

His bride.

It did not seem real. The idea of a wife, of marriage, had been abstract until this point in his life, and even now, as he looked at her, he could hardly believe that they were bound to one another.

He held her hand in his, his eyes drawn to it, her slim fingers and delicate palm giving him pause.

She was tiny. Everything about was her delicate and petite. Her palm was half the size of his own, his hand dwarfing hers as he stared at her elegant fingers and round nails.

Seth realized that he was staring, and he glanced up to find her watching him in confusion.

There was a sense of anticipation in the air. Had the vicar spoken?

“Your Grace?” the vicar prompted. “You may kiss the bride.”

Ah yes… of course. That appalling tradition.

Steeling himself, Seth felt the eyes of the guests on him as he pulled Alicia forward a little more. Her face was upturned already, and he found himself fixating on her plump lips.

What would it be like to taste her here, ravage her for all the world to see? Would she let me?

The same defiance lurked in her gaze, and he pushed away the resentment that flared at the obligation of the kiss and lowered his mouth to hers.

Alicia’s eyes were open until the last minute, the same fury raging within, and he was surprised to find he was holding back a smile. She did not want to kiss him any more than he wanted to kiss her, which suited him very well.

The less they liked one another, the better.

His lips brushed hers before he was ready for it, concentrating on how she must be feeling and thinking, instead of what his body was doing.

For a brief moment, he felt nothing, his lips brushing against hers in a dry, emotionless kiss, but then her mouth opened for him unexpectedly.

Without intending to, his lower lip was caught between hers, and he tasted the sweetness of her mouth as he pulled her closer.

Like a dragon unfurling from its cave, desire, fierce and unexpected, leaped up from within, clawing at him.

His mind was bombarded with images of her tiny body beneath his on the chaise longue, of her pert breasts rising and falling in shock at his proximity. He pictured her naked beneath him, driving into that tiny body, commanding her completely until she screamed his name over and over.

Seth drew back.

Happy murmurings rippled through the congregation behind him, but he could barely hear anything except the pounding in his ears.

Alicia’s beautiful face was still turned toward his, her lips parted, wet and begging for him to have another taste.

He took her arm, stiff and formal, feeling her body tense beside him as he marched them down the aisle, barely waiting for her to follow him.

He nodded at a few people in the crowd. Isaac, Michael, and Lucas were among them, waving their fists in the air as if it were the happiest day of their lives.

Seth could barely take it in. Mortification swamped him as he realized he was growing hard in his breeches— in church!

He wanted to curl in on himself and break into a run.

What the hell is the matter with me?

As soon as he set foot outside, he detached himself from his bride, noting the look of confusion and hurt on her face as he strode away toward the house.

He had to get away from them all, to gather himself and fight against the pull in his gut that made him want to throw his bride over his shoulder, take her back to his rooms, and never let her leave his bed.