Alice was left alone with the duke, and an awkward silence fell. Nerves tangled in her stomach, and she racked her brain for something to say, but the duke got there first.
“Miss Marwick, you look most elegant, if I might say so.”
Alice relaxed a little, gratified by the compliment. At least he was trying to be civil. “Thank you, your grace, and for doing me this honour.”
“Nonsense. You are family now,” he said gruffly, and held out his arm to her.
Rather taken aback by this show of solidarity, she glanced up at him as she took his arm. “It’s good of you to say so. I know I am not what you would wish for Aubrey.”
The duke frowned, his dark brows drawn together. “Every man must choose his own path, Miss Marwick. Aubrey’s choices are his own, and whilst I might not understand them, I respectthem. You are his choice, and therefore, you are a part of our family. I shall never make you feel otherwise, so please put any anxiety you may feel on that subject to rest.”
The words were brusque, harsh almost, and yet Alice heard his sincerity, his desire to do the right thing, even if he did not understand it.
“Thank you,” she said simply, and allowed him to lead her to the altar.
Epilogue
Tying the Knot.
All Saints' Church, Little Valentine, 29thJanuary 1816
“You may kiss the bride.”
Reverend Honeywell beamed at them, his eyes twinkling merrily. Truly, he seemed to take almost as much pleasure in marrying them as they did in being married.
Still, Aubrey did not need telling twice. Reaching for Alice, he pulled her close and kissed her with far too much enthusiasm, not that their audience seemed to mind. They clapped and whooped, which turned Alice a delicious shade of red.
He grinned at her, wondering if it were possible to be any happier than he was in this moment. The emotion seemed to swell inside him, filling his heart, pushing at his chest until he felt he might burst with it. Aubrey wanted everyone in the world to experience the utter rightness of this moment.
“Well, I’ve got you now, Mrs Seymour. There’s no escape.”
“That’s what I was going to say, Mr Seymour,” Alice retorted, sliding her arm through his as they turned to walk back down the aisle as husband and wife.
Aubrey smiled at Hawkney as they passed him and the duke nodded, acceptance if not joy in his expression. Poor Hawk, Aubrey thought sadly. He’d never know the happiness thatAubrey felt in this moment unless someone gave him a good hard shake. For his sake, Aubrey hoped someone would.
They walked out of the church to a shower of rice and shouts of congratulations. Despite the day being cold, the sun shone brightly upon everyone, as if delighting in the celebration as much as they did. Kisses and handshakes were exchanged all round and, though Aubrey had never questioned it, he truly understood why his grandmother had remained here instead of returning to town. Once the hullabaloo had died down, Sherry strode up to them and reached for Alice’s hand.
“Congratulations, Aubrey. May I kiss the bride?” He lifted Alice’s fingers to his lips before Aubrey could answer and winked provokingly. Aubrey ignored him. He knew Sherry too well to be vexed. “Your servant, Madam.”
“Thank you, Lord Sheringham,” Alice replied calmly, just as if she greeted earls every day of the week.
But then if she could make her way through the world as a man, anything else ought to be child’s play.
Hatherley Hall, Little Valentine, 29thJanuary 1816.
It all seemed like an improbable dream, Alice thought as darkness fell over Little Valentine, though Hatherley Hall was lit up in all its grandeur. The splendid bride cake was little more than crumbs, and everyone had eaten far more than was good for them. Champagne flowed, glasses refilled the moment they were emptied, and everyone seemed to be in the highest of spirits.
Della had called for dancing and, as everyone thought this a marvellous idea, the footmen dashed about, clearing the room as Vinnie settled down at the piano.
“We should have held the party in the ballroom after all,” Aubrey said with a laugh, coming to stand beside her. He slid an arm around her waist and Alice leaned into him, marvelling that she could do that, because they belonged to each other now and everyone knew it.
“No, this is perfect. There’s not enough people to fill the ballroom, thank the lord,” she said, gazing up at her handsome husband, admiring the firm line of his jaw. He looked down at her and smiled, a thick lock of auburn hair tumbling over his forehead. Alice reached up and smoothed it back into place, feeling a proprietary surge of happiness that she could. “I’ve been dying to do that ever since we met,” she admitted.
He laughed, gazing down at her, and any lingering doubts she might had secretly held, melted away in the warmth of his regard. He loved her. It was as simple as that.
“Dance with me, Mrs Seymour?” he asked, holding out his hand to her.
“Well, I don’t know what my husband would say.” Alice looked coyly up at him through her lashes, making him laugh.
