As the viscount’s employee, Hudson put his own wishes at a distant second every minute of every day. He would not have wished such a fractured life onto anyone, much less Lady Tabitha, but Hudson had been in earnest when he’d said respecting her father was a noble path.
Noble and sad. A waste of a life. All to honor a longstanding tradition of betrothing children to strangers without the least attempt to ask them what they want or give them what they need.
The rear door to the sanctuary opened and Lord Oldfield walked in at last. His cravat was askew. Hudson hoped the viscount hadn’t been out in the alley tupping a prostitute instead of standing at the altar awaiting his bride.
“The wait is over,” he murmured. “The ceremony can begin.”
Lady Tabitha clutched her stomach as though she really might vomit all over her pretty pink dress.
Lord Oldfield strode up to them, then turned to bark at the priest, “Well? I haven’t all day. I’m a busy man. Can’t you make this fast?”
The priest looked startled, but cleared his throat and began the opening speech.
“Why are you still standing up here with us?” the viscount snapped at Hudson.
“My apologies.” The back of Hudson’s neck burned. Now that the viscount was here and the ceremony underway, Hudson’s presence was no longer necessary at the altar. This wasn’t his wedding. He stepped into the aisle to return to the pews.
Lady Tabitha grabbed his arm.
He placed his hand over hers out of instinct.
“I can’t do this,” she whispered. “Not yet. It’s too fast.”
“Good God, don’t cling at my servants,” said Lord Oldfield in obvious affront. “I expect my wife to show proper decorum at all times. Mr. Frampton, unhand her at once so that she can marry me.”
The priest had ceased speaking. Everyone else was staring.
Hudson dropped his hand from Lady Tabitha’s.
“I need the retiring room.” She bolted down the aisle and out the door, her lady’s maid at her heels.
“Don’t just stand there, Frampton,” Oldfield snapped in exasperation. “Go and fetch her.”
“From the ladies’ retiring room?” Hudson asked pointedly. “What happened to decorum at all times?”
“Well, stand outside the door, at least, and bring her back here the moment she exits.”
Hudson inclined his head and set off down the aisle, pausing only to glance down at Lord Brigsby as he passed.
“You think my daughter is all right?” the marquess rasped.
No, Hudson did not think Lady Tabitha was all right. She was being used like a pawn by both of the men who ought to be protecting her. But Hudson could not say that and keep his post. Which was the only way for Hudson to keep watch over Lady Tabitha.
“She wishes to make you proud,” he hedged instead.
“I’m already proud,” said the marquess. “Seeing my girl wed will be the happiest moment of my life.”
Even though it would be the worst moment of hers…
Or the first of many.
Chapter 10
Tabitha barely made it to the retiring room before hunching over, hands on her knees, to gasp for air. The floor and ceiling seemed to tilt around her as she fought to catch her breath.
Her disequilibrium had begun in the chapel. What had started as a large, pretty, mostly empty room had slowly pressed closer and closer around her, squeezing out all the oxygen until all that was left was her pounding heart and a pinprick of light on the other side of the far door.
Tabitha had instinctively made a run for it before even that narrow avenue of escape disappeared, too.
