Lewis would have to give considerable thought to how and when the women met, though. Even if his grandmother professed a desire to meet his new bride, that did not mean she would react well to her. Lewis had discovered that, even when his grandmother seemed to be doing better than usual, her mind found new matters to worry about. He could only imagine the chaos that a new duchess might bring.
“And I thought that you would like to attend the wedding.”
At first, Lewis had not thought to ask her. He had imagined gently coaxing Lady Bridget into his grandmother’s life, but after the ball, he had reconsidered that decision. It would only cause the rumors to multiply if he arrived at his own wedding without his sole surviving relative.
That was, unless his grandmother refused to go, and she might. It would be a significant deviation from her usual routine.
“No!” she exclaimed. “No, I cannot possibly go. There will be so many people there…”
“Not so many,” he said soothingly. “My bride and myself. I expect that Lady Bridget’s siblings will join her—at least, the two that are in London—and Morington will be present. The vicar.”
“Too many,” she insisted. “My nerves could not possibly endure such a gathering, and what if some accident was to befall us on the road?”
Lewis shook his head. “Grandmother, I could arrange a private box for you to watch the ceremony from. You need not even speak to anyone present. You could simply attend as my honored guest, and that would be sufficient.”
“No, I am not ready,” she said, shaking her head. “But—but I will meet your bride when I am. I promise you that.”
But when would shebeready?
Lewis forced a smile and nodded. He supposed that it was enough that he had a suitable bride. After years of worrying, he had found a Duchess of Wheelton, and so long as Lady Bridget learned her lessons well, everything else would fall into place.
The wedding arrived. His bride still had not, but Lewis assumed she would be coming. Gerard and his duchess had joined himself and Morington in the chapel, and Lewis did not imagine they would have come if Lady Bridget had decided not to be his wife.
Unless they did not know, of course. The vicar idly turned the pages of hisBook of Common Prayer, as if he did not know what he intended to say. Lewis barely managed to keep the grimace from his face. Weddings were absurdly boring affairs, and he would have much preferred to have the matter over and done with by now. The waiting was excruciating.
“I am certain that Bridget will be here soon,” the duchess said, smiling warmly.
Lewis nodded curtly. He hoped she was right. How would his pride manage if she was not?
“Doubtlessly, the lady’s maid is taking more care than usual,” Morington said. “A lady must look her best on her wedding day.”
Certainly, that was true. Still, Lewis glanced around the chapel and found it strange that weddings were always such long, subdued affairs. If the occasion was to be so joyous, it would be better for there to be proper entertainment. Or perhaps more guests to share in the couple’s happiness. Admittedly, accomplishing such things would have taken more than twoweeks, and he had wanted to marry Lady Bridget as quickly as possible.
The chapel door opened at last, and Elias entered. Lady Bridget came behind him, and all the air left Lewis’s lungs. The lady was beautiful; he had always known that. However, seeing her in that white gown with its silvery embroidery was like gazing at an angel. It seemed unfathomable that such beauty might exist in a woman or that she might soon be his. Even if she did not always behave properly, there was no question that Lady Bridget looked like she ought to be a duchess.
“Shall we?” Elias asked.
Bridget’s eyes darted to Lewis, and she nodded. “Yes.”
Her brother escorted her up the aisle to the altar. Lewis bowed. “My lady,” he said.
“Your Grace.”
And then, the ceremony began. As the vicar went through the usual readings, Lewis kept glancing towards his betrothed. She kept her gaze fixed ahead on the vicar, her face as cold as marble. Did she want this marriage? She could still refuse to wed him, and it would be most humiliating if she denied him at the altar.
There was a pause, and the vicar raised an eyebrow. “I do,” Lewis said. “I take thee, Bridget Leedway, to be my lawfully wedded wife.”
He went through the usual vows, his blood roaring in his ears. At last, he had finished them. Lady Bridget cast him a quick, considering look. Now, it was all left to her.
If she refused to marry him, he must find some means of persuading her. Even if their guests were few, he had already told thetonthat they were to be wed. He had been confident that the lady would not deny him.
Lady Bridget was so unpredictable, though.
Regardless of what schemes she might still be making, the young woman dutifully repeated the vows. The knot in Lewis’s chest loosened with each one, as every word drew them closer to being husband and wife.
When it was done he muffled a sigh of relief.
“My wife,” he said.
