She hadn’t seen Theodore in days. Not since he had delivered those maddening words—I have the special license already—and walked away with all the serenity of a man announcing the weather. The note that followed had stated the time and date of their wedding with the clinical precision of a physician’s prescription. She had not replied.
The door swung open, and their mother entered with a brisk sweep of skirts and authority.
“Good heavens, are we still arguing about the tiara? Cease that nonsense this instant.”
With practiced elegance, she approached and surveyed the tiara. “It is crooked.”
May gasped, victorious. “Thank you, Mama! Now will you believe me, June?” She leaned in conspiratorially and added in a whisper, “Do consider those spectacles. You may borrow mine.”
June scowled but said nothing, retreating a step as their mother took command.
Dorothy adjusted the tiara with deft fingers. “There. No one touch it again. It is quite perfect now. May, June, give your sister a moment.”
The twins exchanged a glance, and with identical shrugs, they obeyed, gliding out the door with trailing murmurs and lingering amusement.
Dorothy turned to April, taking her hands gently in her own.
“My darling girl,” she said softly, her gaze shimmering with a pride that wrapped around April like a warm shawl, “you will make the most beautiful duchess London has ever seen.”
April tried to swallow the ache rising in her throat, tried not to glance again at her reflection that somehow looked like a stranger wearing her own face.
“And,” her mother added, her smile turning knowing, “I trust you remember what we discussed last night.”
April blinked.Not this again.
“About the marriage bed, dear. There is nothing to fear, I assure you. It is perfectly natural and?—”
“Yes, Mama,” April interjected quickly. “I remember. Entirely. Perfectly.”
There will be nothing to fear,she reminded herself, because there will be nothing to endure. The marriage is in name only.
Dorothy seemed satisfied with this and pulled her daughter into a brief embrace before they both turned toward the mirror. The image staring back at them was striking.
April’s dress was a pale blue lace, its bodice adorned with glass beads that shimmered like dew, and a soft veil framed her face, giving her the appearance of a painting come to life. Her lips were curved in a calm smile. Even as her insides were a riot.
A short while later, April descended the staircase, each step measured and quiet. Her fingers brushed the banister, needing its steadiness. Her legs, traitorous things, felt weak beneath the weight of her dress.
Her father stood waiting below, leaning on his cane with August beside him—tall, composed, protective. But it was her father’s face that undid her: a little more color in his cheeks, a straighter spine, and eyes so bright with tears that they seemed to shine.
Her pace did not falter, but she gripped the railing a moment longer than necessary.
Be brave. Show them this is the happiest day of your life. Even if your insides are anything but. Even if you’re shaking beneath your skin.
“The most beautiful bride in the kingdom,” her father said, his voice low, the words thick with affection as he pulled her into a warm embrace.
She smiled faintly. “You are biased.”
“Absolutely. Now, let us not keep a duke waiting.”
April pressed a hand to her belly after alighting from the carriage in an attempt to tamp the thousands of flutters within. One part of mind was telling her to run back into the carriage and tell her family that she could not go through with this marriage, and the other was telling her to have courage. As she looked up at the church facade, a sigh rushed past her lips.
“Come, my dear.”
She felt her father’s hand at her elbow, prompting her to face him and muster a smile. With her hand on his arm, they began the climb toward the grand church. Every step was a negotiation of some sort, and halfway up, he paused and let out a long breath.
“Your mother looked just like you, that day,” he observed, his eyes bright with the memory. “Except she was shaking so much, I thought the wreath on her head might fall off.”
How does he know I’m terrified?April blinked at him, caught between nerves and surprise. “Truly?”
