Page 22 of His Tempting Duchess (Regency Wedding Crashers #4)

CHAPTER 22

R unaway Bride Attempts Marriage Once Again!

Dedicated readers of this paper will recall the shocking occasion of Miss Emily Belmont’s first wedding to the illustrious Duke of Clapton. Miss Emily, the youngest of the infamous Belmont tribe, is reported to have switched places with her twin sister—Miss Daphne Belmont, now wed to the Duke of Thornbridge—on her wedding day, resulting in chaos, a runaway bride, and humiliation all around.

Readers will be shocked and appalled to learn that His Grace and Miss Emily Belmont plan to attempt to tie the knot one more time. With a great rush of last-minute preparations, the couple allegedly intend to wed at the small Clapton chapel, with few guests and a belated wedding breakfast afterward.

This author is remarkably shocked to learn this, on account of the previous incident. One must wonder what the Duke of Clapton is doing, risking marriage to a woman who so publicly jilted him. And one must also consider Miss Emily, who previously was willing to sacrifice her twin sister to avoid marrying this very gentleman.

What has changed in the past weeks? What desperation has driven these two to the altar? One thing is certain: this author is determined to find out.

Anna reached over, plucking the paper from Emily’s hand. “You shouldn’t read that trash,” she scolded. “Certainly not on your wedding day.”

“Assuming it even takes place,” Emily muttered. “He might jilt me as revenge, don’t you think?”

A maid was pinning up Emily’s hair, and Anna stepped forward, holding out her hand for the pins. The maid blinked, a little surprised, but obediently handed them over and stepped back.

“Frankly, Emily, I do not know,” Anna said a little shortly, carefully pinning a curl in place. “What are you thinking, marrying a man you jilted at the altar only a few weeks ago?”

“Technically, she did not jilt him,” Daphne spoke up. “ I was the one who jilted him at the altar.”

Her pregnancy left her ill most mornings, and today was no exception. She lay on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. Octavia had assured her that the intense morning sickness would recede after a few months. Still, poor Daphne.

Anna sighed. “That hardly matters, Daff. I suppose Emily could hardly have married anybody else.”

Emily bit her lip. “Thank you.”

“I don’t mean to be cruel—that’s simply the way it is.”

Emily stayed silent. Around her was a flutter of activity, everybody busy with something. She wore a simple gown of pale blue, trimmed in creamy lace. It was a gown she already had, as a new one could not be made on such short notice. Besides, it seemed like horrifically bad luck to wear the same gown she’d worn for their first wedding.

Not that she possessed the original wedding dress. Daphne had changed into it… and destroyed it when she made her mad dash from the church.

Octavia was downstairs, overseeing preparations for the wedding breakfast. The guest list was short, and everything had to be hastily thrown together, of course.

The whole business seemed surreal.

“Anna,” Emily whispered, “do you think I am making a mistake?”

Anna met her eyes in the mirror. “Have you fallen in love with him, Emily?”

Emily missed a beat. “N-No, of course not. This is a marriage of convenience. We’ve thought this over and decided that this marriage is simply the best idea for us both.”

Was that disappointment in Anna’s eyes?

“Well,” she murmured, shifting her attention to Emily’s hair, “then you have made a practical and logical choice. You’re a clever girl, Emily, and I do not doubt that if you believe this is the best decision for you, then it is. You cannot back out of the marriage this time.”

Emily chewed on her lower lip. “Do you think he’s angry with me?”

Anna sighed. “I… I don’t know. You forget, Emily, I was jilted at the altar once, too. Before I married Theo, I tried to make a marriage of convenience of my own, to his brother. I should not have done that, I know that now, but at the time, it seemed like my only choice. I don’t resent him for not marrying me—we would have been desperately unhappy, for many reasons—but I do remember how I felt at the time.”

“I did wrong, I suppose,” Emily whispered.

Anna squeezed her shoulder. “You did what you had to do, Emmie.”

“It’s just that all the scandal sheets?—”

“Don’t listen to such nonsense. They thrive on gossip, and they love to cause trouble. Those cowardly, anonymous authors would love to see you abandon the Duke a second time, or see him abandon you . They don’t care about your security or happiness—they only care about selling their silly papers. This is your wedding day, and all of us are behind you.” Anna bent down, pressing a kiss to Emily’s cheek.

“It’s true!” Daphne called, swinging her legs off the bed and making her way over to them. “We’re here for you, Emily. If you want to run away from him again, just tell me, and I’ll cause a distraction to give you a head start.”

Anna and Emily snorted at that.

The three sisters wrapped their arms around each other, squeezing tight. They stayed like that for a long time, nobody speaking. A lump formed in Emily’s throat.

“That’s enough of that,” Anna said briskly, pulling away first. “We have to get you ready. Daphne, go downstairs and see if Emily’s bouquet is ready. I shall finish styling her hair, and then we can get ready to leave.”

“What’s the big rush?” Daphne sniffed. “She’s a bride. She can be late to her own wedding if she wants.”

Anna grimaced. “Generally, yes. However, on this occasion—and given our history of ruined weddings, and Emily’s specific history with this specific groom—I think the safest option is to get you there in good time, lest people start worrying.”

* * *

The Clapton chapel was very small and was filled to the brim. It had once been off-limits to everybody but the family. During the lifetime of the late Duke of Clapton, nobody had attended church much. Things had changed after Cassian took over as duke.

Emily stood outside, her nerves jittering. Her sisters had gone inside, at her request. Octavia was standing with her, adjusting her skirts.

“Are you sure you want to do this, darling?” Octavia asked quietly.

It was the first time she had asked Emily that question since she had given Cassian permission to marry her.

Emily breathed in. “I… Yes, I am.”

“Very well.”

“Mama, I…” Emily paused, gulping. “Mama, how do you know if you’re in love?”

There was a long pause after that, long and silent enough for Emily to hear the muted chatter inside the church. All of the guests were in there, waiting for her.

“Darling?” Octavia whispered. “Darling, are you in love with the duke?”

Emily closed her eyes. “That would be foolish, wouldn’t it?”

“No. Love is never foolish. That is to say, love is always foolish, and therefore is never foolish, if that makes sense.”

Emily smiled wryly. “It very much does not, Mama.”

“Hm. Well, I’m your mother. You can talk to me. You can tell me how you feel.”

Emily took a moment, steeling herself. How did she feel?

“I don’t know,” she sighed. “I feel drawn to him. I’ve never felt this way before. I find him handsome and infuriating and intriguing all at once, and I don’t understand it. It can’t be love, can it? How would I know if I’m in love?”

Octavia took a moment before answering. “Love is an odd thing,” she said. “The novels would have you believe that falling in love is like being struck by lightning. You are going about your day, and then suddenly, you’re in love. It’s very obvious and breathtaking, and you are never in doubt, not for an instant.”

Emily was silent. “And… and is it not like that?”

Octavia smiled wryly. “It can be. But for many people, love creeps up on them. Ideally, you fall in love with a friend. For others, their relationships are a little rockier. Still, once one has given away one’s heart, that’s it. You cannot take it back.”

“You make it sound a little terrible, Mama,” Emily said, laughing faintly. “Like catching an illness.”

Octavia tilted her head, thinking it over. “I suppose you are correct. It is a little like that. But my point is that it is different for everybody. You are the master of your own heart, my darling girl. I cannot tell you what to do or what to feel.”

There was a short silence after that.

Emily drew in a deep breath, closing her eyes. “You’re right, Mama. I don’t mean to say that I am in love with the duke. I only… I don’t always know how I feel about him. Maybe I just care for him the way I care for any person’s well-being.”

Octavia eyed her for a long moment, then nodded, holding out her hand. “I see. Well, I trust you, my darling girl. I hope this is what you truly want, and I hope that the duke is the man you believe he is.”

Emily nodded. “So do I, Mama. So do I.”

Together, they turned towards the closed doors of the chapel and prepared to enter.

* * *

“You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, Cass,” Richard murmured.

Cassian raised his eyebrows, glancing down at his cousin. “At the moment, Richard, I am wondering what on earth possessed me to ask you to be my best man again .”

Richard chuckled under his breath. “You’re a glutton for punishment. Case in point, you are marrying the woman who jilted you before.”

That was a fair point, and Cassian did not bother to argue.

The chapel was more full than he had expected. Something akin to nerves coiled in his gut.

Am I truly doing this?

“This is the right thing to do,” he stated, as confidently as he could.

“Let’s hope she isn’t late,” Richard mumbled.

That was doubtful. Emily’s two sisters were here, with their husbands. Cassian recognized most of the faces in the chapel, and he found himself wondering which of them would be writing up an account of this wedding for the gossip rags.

Frances and Margaret were here, of course. Frances was beaming with delight—she had been most disappointed that she hadn’t met Emily before the wedding. Margaret’s expression was impassive, almost disapproving. She clearly was not happy about the whole business, but Cassian would work on soothing her ruffled feelings later. For now, he had to focus on getting married.

The rector presiding over the wedding was the same one that Cassian had hired before. The man looked exceptionally nervous. It was hard to blame him.

“Your Grace,” he ventured. “The bride…”

On cue, the doors at the back of the chapel opened. Despite himself, Cassian jumped.

There she is.

His breath stuttered in his throat.

She looked beautiful, so beautiful. Oh, she was lovely . Her hair was done up in a sweeping, elaborate style, ringlets rolling down the nape of her neck. She wore a simple blue gown that suited her perfectly, and somehow seemed even more bridal than the gown she—or rather, her twin sister—had worn to their first wedding. There was a flush on her cheeks, and her gaze raked through the assembled guests with a hint of nervousness. Her arm was looped through her mother’s.

Lady St. Maur strode confidently down the aisle, her chin up, meeting his gaze fearlessly. She was taller than her daughter. Emily was at least a head shorter, despite her pinned-up hair. Focusing on the locks of hair at her neck, Cassian abruptly found himself wondering what it would be like to twine one of those locks around his finger.

He gave himself a stern mental shake.

Be calm, Cassian . This is simply a matter of convenience. She doesn’t love you. You don’t love her. That was never part of the agreement.

Emily reached the top of the aisle. Her mother kissed her on both cheeks, then turned to sit on the front pew. Her face was taut, as if she were fighting back tears.

Emily breathed out slowly and turned to face Cassian.

It seemed that everybody in the chapel was holding their breath. Cassian’s heart hammered. He could have sworn that the world stood still altogether.

“Good morning,” Emily whispered.

“Good morning,” he responded. “You look lovely.”

“Thank you. So do you. Handsome, I mean.”

“I’m glad that I didn’t have to chase you.”

She gave a wry smile. “You would have never caught me.”

He had to smile back, shaking his head.

The rector cleared his throat. “May… May I continue?” he ventured, a little uneasily.

Both Emily and Cassian turned to face him.

“Of course,” Cassian responded coolly.

There seemed to be a collective sigh of relief from the assembled guests.

The rector began, launching into his well-rehearsed spiel. But Cassian was not listening. His gaze strayed, time and time again, to the woman standing at his side.

Emily was staring at the rector, worrying her lower lip between her teeth. She looked nervous, very much so. He half reached out to take her hand, stopping himself at the last moment. It wasn’t proper. Not yet.

Remember your duty . You promised her a marriage of convenience, with the freedom to pursue the things she wants. You must keep your end of the bargain.

He really wasn’t listening to the rector. It was the usual wedding sermon, nothing new. He had a feeling that the guests were not listening either. Instead, they were focused on him and Emily. Cassian shifted his weight and cleared his throat, and there was a muffled gasp from the guests, as though they expected him to do something.

Emily’s bouquet slipped from her hands accidentally, bouncing on the ground, and somebody in the crowd let out a startled yelp. Flushing red, Emily picked up her bouquet, looking uncomfortable, and the ceremony continued, all the way to the vows.

“Do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?” the rector asked, eyeing Cassian.

“I do,” Cassian responded, his voice clear and even.

“And you, Miss Emily Belmont, do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

Emily drew in a shaky breath. Cassian glanced down at her, finding that he was holding his breath, too.

“I do,” she responded.

A tangible exhale went up from the crowd, along with a good deal of whispering. The rings had been exchanged, the vows said, the banns read.

It’s over. Cassian almost felt a little disoriented. I’m married. We are married.

He held out his hand, and Emily took it a little hesitantly. They turned to face the gawping faces of their wedding guests.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may ki—ahem,” the rector stammered, as Cassian shot him a look.

I don’t wish to kiss her here.

Cassian felt his insides clenching at the thought.

It seems that once I start kissing the wretched woman, I cannot stop.

Applause broke out, somewhat belated, and a few shouts of congratulations drifted up from the crowd. He felt Emily’s hand tighten reflexively around his. He glanced down at her, and she glanced up at him, flashing a tentative smile.

“Now what?” she whispered.

“Now we celebrate,” he responded.