“I will marry you,” she said.
Eliza covered her mouth in surprise. Nathaniel felt something shift in his chest, something unfamiliar and dangerously close to relief.
“You understand what you accept,” he said, needing her to confirm it.
“I do.”
“A practical marriage.”
“Yes.”
“Separate lives if you wish.”
She held his gaze.
“We shall see what life makes of it.”
It was not romantic, nor was it tender. It was deliberate, and even knowing all of that, she had chosen him. He wondered if she was happy with her decision, among all of the things he knew she would be feeling, because there was one thing that he could not shift from his mind about it all.
He was happy about her decision.
CHAPTER 20
The wedding morning dawned clear and cold.
London had expected spectacle. Instead, there would be restraint. The church selected was respectable but not grand, and the guest list was far smaller than was expected of a duke. Invitations had been issued swiftly, leaving little time for commentary to fester into something worse.
That did not prevent attention.
Carriages already lined the street when Margaret arrived through the side entrance reserved for family. Inside, everything felt hushed. Her gown was elegant without extravagance; ivory silk, long sleeves, and a modest train. It was a wedding meant to steady rumor rather than ignite admiration, and it showed.
In the small antechamber beside the nave, her friends gathered around her. Margaret tried to steady her nerves, but at least intheir company, she did not have to pretend as much. Clara stood nearest, hands clasped beneath her chin.
“You look composed,” she said, studying Margaret’s reflection in the narrow mirror.
“That is the intention.”
“Even so,” said Eleanor, adjusting the fall of Margaret’s veil. “One would expect a lady in your circumstances to be terrified. You, on the other hand, are calm.”
Margaret met her own gaze in the glass. Calm was not the word she would have chosen, but she did not correct it. It was for the best that they thought she was content. Anne moved closer, lowering her voice.
“Is he here?”
“Yes. My mother saw him.”
Eleanor tilted her head.
“We expected fireworks.”
“You shall have solemnity. I hope you are not disappointed about that.”
“That is not what I meant.”
Clara stepped closer, lowering her voice further.
“Margaret, what truly lies between yourself and the Duke?”
The question was quiet, sincere. Margaret hesitated only briefly.
