"Are you certain about this?" Joyce asked her. "I do not wish for you to get into something that you do not want to be a part of."
"I have made my decision," Alethea replied. Daphne looked between the two of them with great curiosity. "You need not worry about me, in the slightest."
"Well, still as your sisters, it is our responsibility to make sure," Felicity said. "I suggest you to be careful, though."
"Careful of what?" Alethea asked.
"Careful of your husband," Daphne said. "The duke is known to be a charmer and he can flirt, on occasion."
"I suppose he will not be flirting with anyone else now that he has a wife," Joyce added.
"Well, one can hope, of course," Daphne nodded. "Though we are not trying to scare you. It is only a natural concern, given how short the courtship period between the two of you had been."
Alethea fought the urge to scoff at that. There had been no courtship period. But she decided to instead keep to the version of the story that Oliver had told them. It was easier that way.
"He's never made me feel uneasy," she admitted.
"He wouldn't," Daphne said. "That's what makes men like him so dangerous."
"Then I shall be cautious," Alethea said. "But I will not be afraid. He is hardly the most frightening thing I have encountered in my life, far from it, really."
She flinched slightly as she said the words, but luckily, her sisters did not catch on. They were too busy worrying over her to notice. Alethea had not spoken candidly about her time in thenunnery, and decided that it was best that the stories from there stayed with her alone.
"And if he's not all he seems?" Felicity asked again.
"Then I will manage."
"And do you think he'll make you happy?" Daphne asked.
"I don't know," Alethea replied honestly. "But I think I will make myself happy, in time."
That was the truth of it, really. She was responsible for her own happiness.
"The carriage is ready, Your Grace," came the maid's voice from the corridor.
"I daresay I am ready as well," Alethea murmured. What need was there to wait? She was as ready as she could ever be.
"You don't have to do this," Joyce said finally. "If your heart is uncertain, say so now."
"My heart has little to do with it," Alethea replied.
"I wish you would admit it if you were unhappy," Joyce said, "I am your sister, after all. You may tell me.'
"I am not unhappy," Alethea assured her. That was true. She did not know what exactly it was that she felt, but unhappy would be the wrong way to describe it. "Let us go now. I do not wish to be late on the day of my own wedding."
The ride to the church passed by in a blur, and in no time at all she stood at the altar with the man that was to marry. It all felt a bit surreal, really. It came the time to read out their vows.
"I do," Alethea said, her voice as steady as she could manage.
"I do," Oliver replied. His voice was colder now than what she had remembered it to be.
Then, the ring was placed upon her finger. Alethea could scarcely remember the moment she was declared a wife. It happened in a blur.
"You make a beautiful bride," Oliver said as he helped her into the waiting carriage.
"And you make an excellent liar," Alethea replied beneath her breath.
"Only when necessary," he said.
