Amelia hoped he was right. But everything Nicholas made her feel seemed far fromdecent.
“But you should not listen to me. Nor to your aunt, starry-eyed as she is by the young and handsome Duke. If you are having doubts,” her uncle assured soberly, “I will drive you from this church immediately.”
“To flee at this point seems ill-advised.” She forced a smile. “No matter what happens, uncle… I am so grateful for you.”
“Oh…” Benjamin’s face softened. “What I would not do for you…” Her uncle took her hand and squeezed it. “My dearest Amelia. I only wish your father… Well, you know what I wish.”
She squeezed his hand back, allowing herself only a moment to think about her late parents. She wondered if her mother had felt so much trepidation marrying her father. Whether they knew the doomed situation they were walking into as they were wed.
Would she know? It seemed unlikely.
A moment later, Benjamin opened the doors, and the nave appeared before them. The space was dark but cast in the golden light of candles. Dark wooden pews lined the aisle toward the altar, where the vicar stood.
She recognized familiar faces. Her family, her friend, a few notable Oxonians.
And at the very end of the nave stood Nicholas.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Nicholas lingered outside the college hall, staring across the grounds. The wedding breakfast was mercifully drawing to a close, and the fresh air soothed the worst of his megrim. He sat on one of the steps, turning the new golden wedding band on his finger.
The doors creaked open behind him, and the raucous sounds of the party slipped outdoors. Samuel emerged with George, laughing at something someone inside had said, before dropping his buoyant expression the second the doors closed behind them.
“There has never been so boring a fellow as that Lord Gainsbury,” Samuel complained, fishing into his pocket for his snuff tin as they walked down the steps. He offered it to Nicholas once he arrived, who refused. “Suit yourself.”
“Is she still indoors?” Nicholas asked, peering up at George.
He nodded. “Discussing Michaelmas with Miss Ashwood, if my ears did not deceive me. Were you concerned she had fled while you escaped outdoors?”
“Hardly,” Nicholas muttered, fixing his band in place and standing. “But we should retreat soon. This gathering has gone on long enough by my count.” He raised a brow at Samuel. “You will be fine in town for the night?”
“Oh, Lord. I do not count on returning to Riverside Court so long as you and your new bride are there. Me? An inconvenience? Perish the thought,” he said, laughing. He slipped his snuff tin back into his pocket. “But if I should tire of the hotel, perhaps Georgie here could host me at his apartment in town.”
George did not look pleased, but gave a polite smile nonetheless.
The gentlemen shared a few japes before Samuel decided to return indoors, leaving George with Nicholas.
The men were quiet for a moment, standing in companionable silence. A murder of crows flew overhead, disappearing behind the western spires into the great grey beyond.
“I could not have imagined, in my wildest dreams, that this would have been the outcome of your return to Oxford. A marriage for you, it beggars belief,” George murmured, contemplatively. “The talk indoors is positive. I doubt the country has ever seen you so favorably, despite the unconventional manner in which you met Miss Tate.”
“TheDuchess of Avonnow,” Nicholas exhaled. “A queer turn of events. I never imagined I should know a Duchess of Avon in my lifetime.”
“She will prove worthy. Miss Ashwood has sung her praises for years, despite what is known about her condition,” George added. “Glad though I am for you both… No, I should not say it.”
“You shall.”
“I fail to understand why you felt a marriage was necessary.”
Nicholas, tired, smiled softly. “That rather contradicts your previous endorsement of the woman.”
“I only ask…” George paused, staring across the lawn. Clouds formed a thick blanket on the horizon, carrying the threat of more rain that autumn. “For Philippa’s sake, do try not to break Amelia’s heart, old boy.”
That had not been Nicholas’s plan. He had barely thought about Amelia’s heart at all. A woman of her virtue could not fall in love with him. And he could not fall in love at all.
“You need not worry,” he assured George, the clouds coming nearer on the wind. “In so far as her heart is concerned, the Duchess is in no peril with me.”
And yet, when it came time to depart an hour later, her heart was the only thing Nicholas could think about.
