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Chapter Thirty-Four

J ust breathe. Just breathe, just breathe, just breathe.

It was all that ran through Selina’s head, all that she could allow.

Her nerves had not backed down for a single moment, and her heart hammered so fiercely she was certain a rib would crack under the strain.

She felt consumed by nausea and the need to run, to flee this horrid church and run off into the hills of England never to be seen again.

But she couldn’t do that.

The doors before her were expertly crafted, these thick, imposing slabs of wood that led into the chapel.

Selina was doing an excellent job distracting herself from her near implosion by staring at them.

Or at least, she had been doing a fine job.

Now, she was aware of the greater spiral of her thoughts and the way her body twitched from the anxiety that wormed through her.

Behind her, people skittered about, getting things ready for her entrance and walk down the aisle. Magnus would be standing at the far end, and despite how foolish it was, Selina couldn’t stop herself from wishing that it might be Hugh.

Stop, Selina. This is ridiculous.

The stems of the flowers she’d been given dug into her fingers as she clutched them too tightly.

Selina was sure she had damaged their integrity, likely finding them dented in places where the stalks had been forced to bend.

Even the flowers were suffering under the weight of her unease.

She was a complete mess, and it would not do.

She was to stand before the parish and those closest to her as she married Magnus.

And she was moments from keeling over onto the floor as her bowels upended themselves. God save her.

“We are ready for your entrance, Your Grace.”

A man stood at the French doors before her.

Selina didn’t know when he had appeared, and all she could bring herself to do was nod.

As soon as she did, he and another servant on the other side pulled each door of the pair open, revealing the chapel.

Those there turned, and too many eyes fell upon her.

It took several breaths before Selina was able to get herself moving, and she locked her stare on the man standing at the head of the aisle.

Magnus waited patiently there, his expression absurdly neutral and his spine ramrod straight.

He did not look nervous or excited. He did not look upset or elated. He simply looked… accepting.

This had been their plan for so long. To wed and have Selina move into his estate with her family. Once there, she would help to care for Kitty when she arrived after her mother’s unfortunate demise, and she would continue to help shepherd her sisters alongside her mother.

It was logical and provided a way for both of them to get the support they needed to care for their family. The marriage was a smart one, a good match, yet Selina wanted nothing more than to turn on her heel and flee the church as fast as she could.

Unacceptable. You cannot do that.

Selina’s heartbeat was a furious pounding as she took slow steps down the aisle toward Magnus.

Each movement brought her closer and closer, and yet the distance behind her groom appeared to pull away from him, and Selina’s stomach churned violently.

She needed to keep moving. Everyone was looking at her.

The small group of attendees offered cordial smiles as she passed by, unable to keep herself from glancing at them, expecting to find expressions of annoyance and disapproval.

Everyone had to know how conflicted she was, didn’t they? Selina felt as if she were hanging on by a thread, but no one seemed moved or concerned about her. No one was the wiser when it came to the horrid emotions bubbling through her veins like toxic tar.

Selina, you must do this. For your family.

The fabric of the veil touched her face, and Selina fought the urge to bat it away.

The stays also poked into her ribs something fierce, and she had to keep herself from reaching down to her side in an attempt to adjust them.

Nothing felt right, even the gloves she wore seemed to grip her fingers too tightly.

Her shoes were uncomfortable, she could feel every lump and bump in the floor, and Selina felt numerous sudden itches spring up across her flesh.

If there were a way to feel physically distressed and uncomfortable, it was currently plaguing her. And she knew it had everything to do with her insufferable nerves.

She was nearly to the end of the aisle. Had it been only a few minutes or had it been several years?

Selina was uncertain. Her mother and sisters sat in the first pew to her right, and she forced herself to smile at them as she drew near.

It was unclear how much of her expression they could read beneath the veil in this rather dimly lit church.

You are saving them. Lydia is not ready to consider a match. She needs time. You are keeping your family together. Do not let them see you falter.

Selina’s eyes burned, but she would not let the tears come.

They had no place here. Instead, she focused ahead on the man who waited at the end of the aisle.

Magnus looked smart and dashing in his fine jacket.

He was not an unattractive man by any means.

He was much closer to her age. Perhaps when they were wed, she might be able to engage their relationship in a closer manner.

She remembered that he had said he might take a mistress, but it might be possible to come to some sort of arrangement with him. Surely, Selina could manage that, could she not?

No, you cannot do that, Selina. No, no, no.

The thought was so very loud in her head. But there was no denying the immediate repulsion she had to the idea. She couldn’t be with anyone else. Hugh had been the only one to stoke her desires like that, and she could not bring herself to allow another man to touch her like he did.

It is not meant for anyone else.

That notion surprised her somewhat, but Selina silently chastised herself. How could she be so shocked that the idea of being with another man turned her stomach? Of course, it did. She was so hopelessly infatuated with the man, even though he wanted nothing to do with her.

“Selina,” Magnus whispered. She’d reached the top of the aisle, and he held out his hand to help her up the singular step.

He smiled gently, and the priest mirrored his expression. Two men staring at her without a care in the world, simply ready to proceed with today’s business. That’s all this was to either of them—an arrangement.

Pain struck through Selina’s chest, and she had to stop herself from recoiling as Magnus took her arm, leading her up onto the dais.

No. No, this isn’t right. I do not want this. I… I cannot do this.

But what was she to do? Selina had already come so far. There were expectations set on her shoulders now and a room full of people to back them up. This was her duty. She couldn’t simply turn and run because she didn’t like this. Life was not like that. It wasn’t fair.

And of course, she knew that intimately. Otherwise, fate would not have cursed her to fall in love with a man who did not want to be with her.

Hugh is finished with me. He sees no future in my presence that he desires. He does not ? —

But then it struck her. During their conversation, Hugh had not told Selina he did not want her. The words never left his lips. In fact, what he had said was that she should not want him . Hugh had not denied his attraction, his feelings toward her. He’d said nothing of the sort.

Selina eyed the church, scanning her surroundings until her stare rested on her groom once more.

Magnus looked slightly confused, pressed for time even, but he was still so impassive.

He wasn’t a bad man. This wasn’t his fault.

Still, that changed nothing about how she felt, and for the first time in her life, she was about to put her hopes and dreams ahead of duty.

This is it, Selina. What will you do?

Holding Magnus’ stare, Selina searched for anything that might prompt her to stay. Heartbreak, longing, or some revealed affection for her, but there was nothing. Magnus did not want her, and she did not want him. She was not in love with him. She was in love with Hugh.

To hell with it.

“Magnus,” Selina took his hand in hers, squeezing as she met his eyes with a smile that was wholly inappropriate for what she was about to do, “I am so terribly sorry, but I cannot do this.”

“I beg your pardon?” His brow furrowed, his mood instantly dropping.

“You are a wonderful man. Kind and compassionate, trying so hard to take care of someone under your charge. But I am not the match for you. I cannot be. I’m afraid…” Selina looked from poor Magnus to the priest and then out over the pews toward her mother. “… I am in love with someone else.”

A small gasp resounded through the chapel as the few gathered heard her, but Selina caught her mother’s grin, mirrored by those of her sisters.

“I’m so terribly sorry.”

Not waiting another moment to hear what Magnus might say, Selina spun around, dropping her bouquet to the floor. She reached for the fabric of her gown, hoisting it up slightly so that she could rush down the aisle toward the back door.

She had no idea how her confrontation with Hugh might go, but she didn’t care.

It was exhilarating and genuine to know that she was taking a chance on her own happiness.

Everything felt lighter, looked brighter, and even the sounds of the heart in her ears were no longer a somber toll of her figurative demise.

Selina sprinted down the aisle, a smile stretching across her face, until suddenly the doors to the chapel flew open.

Both of the wood panels slammed against the wall behind them, and the entire assembly startled from the shock.

Selina nearly fell backward, but the sight of a tall silhouette surging forward stilled her.

Hugh.