When she reached the church, however, a fresh wave of alarm washed over her. Instead of the duke, she found Mr. Arnold standing in the duke’s place before the priest.
“I—” Aurelia started when she saw him.
He smiled kindly at her. “I know, this must be a shock. I don’t blame you for your surprise.”
“But His Grace—”
“I will be attending the wedding as his proxy. Fear not; you will not be legally married to me.”
Aurelia attempted to draw herself up. A few ladies and gentlemen sat in the pews, watching them and whispering behind their hands. Although most of their words were lost in the acoustics of the church, she caught a few:
How very like the duke to have done this.
Do you suppose he’s too ashamed to show his face in London?
Poor mite, she looks terrified. I would be too, in her place.
Aurelia squared her shoulders. Over her years, she’d had more than enough time being whispered and pointed at to know both how easily people latched onto perceived differences, and how cruel and hurtful it could be.
She would not let their vile whispers get to her.
Even if a small part of her wondered what reason the duke had for being ashamed. What could his reputation be? The Duchess of Fenwick had courted his interest still, so surely it couldn’t bethatterrible.
Or perhaps—could the duchess have been searching for gossip? The woman did enjoy gossiping, as little as Aurelia liked it.
She stood opposite Mr. Arnold as required, nerves squirming in her stomach as the priest ran through the barest bones of the ceremony. Fortunately, Aurelia had not expected romance, for she found none in this declaration of marriage. They were to be united as husband and wife, but her husband was absent, and they certainly did not care for one another.
The instant the ceremony ended, Aurelia was officially the duke’s wife in the eyes of the law and God. Mr. Arnold took her arm and led her back down the aisle.
“I had your belongings packed,” he said matter-of-factly as they emerged back into the sunshine. Perhaps the passers by wouldthink him her husband; truly, she felt as though she knew this strange man more than any shadows her husband left behind him. “This carriage will take you to the duke’s estate.”
“There will be no wedding breakfast?” she asked timidly.
“I’m sure the duke will offer you a hearty dinner when you arrive,” Mr. Arnold assured, just as amicably as ever, but Aurelia had the distinct impression his kindness was now tinged with pity. “Your maid, Jane, will accompany you.”
“Thank you,” Aurelia managed, gripping his hand for a moment. The tiniest part of her waited, hoping perhaps he would tell her this was a terrible dream—a lie cast into being out of desperation and hallucinations. But he merely extracted himself from her and bowed formally.
“Your servant, Your Grace.”
Oh Lord, that was her now. She was a duchess. Numbly, Aurelia climbed into the carriage, finding her maid sitting opposite her.
“I hope you don’t mind me darning these stockings,” Jane said cheerfully as the carriage lurched into motion. “They’re mine, see, so the quality of the stitching don’t matter, and I may as well have something to do before we get there.”
“Do you know how long the journey will take?”
“A few hours, if I recall the coachman correctly. The duke lives by the sea.” Jane’s eyes gleamed with honest excitement. “I’ve never seen the sea before. Lawks, this is so exciting. My ma will never believe I’ve gone and seen theocean, and as a lady’s maid at that.”
Aurelia attempted the thinnest of smiles—though it didn’t feel right on her lips. If the servants knew she had been one of them—ornear enough—they would never respect her, but she wanted nothing more than to confide in a friendly face.
I can’t do this, she wanted to scream.I will never be able to do this.
Instead, she murmured, “I’ve never seen the sea either.”
“I’ve no doubt the sea air will do you good, ma’am.”
“No doubt.”
Until she saw her husband and knew what manner of man she was to call her husband.
