“Of course,” Eliza said softly.
The awkwardness was palpable. Sarah kept her eyes downcast, her movements careful, as though Eliza had transformed into something fragile and untouchable. Which, Eliza supposed, she had. Three days ago, they’d been peers, servants in the same household, sharing the same quarters, eating the same meals. Now Eliza was about to become a duchess.
It felt surreal. Like a dream she might wake from at any moment.
A knock at the door interrupted the uncomfortable silence.
“Come in,” Eliza called.
The door opened to reveal Imogen, resplendent in a gown of deep blue that complemented her complexion perfectly. Her face lit up when she saw Eliza.
“Oh, my dear,” she breathed. “You look absolutely beautiful.”
Sarah curtsied quickly. “I’ll give you privacy, Your Grace.” She fled the room before either woman could respond.
Imogen closed the door gently behind her, then crossed to Eliza, taking both her hands.
“How are you feeling?” she asked, her eyes warm with concern.
“Terrified,” Eliza admitted. “My entire life has been upended in three days. And I’ve dragged Morgan into this mess with me. What if…what if I’ve ruined everything for him? What if…”
“Stop.” Imogen squeezed her hands. “You haven’t ruined anything. If anything, I suspect you may have saved him.”
Eliza blinked. “What?”
“Morgan is a good man. One of the best I know, actually. But he’s been… adrift for a long time. Going through the motions of life without really living it. Relying on humor to make it through…” Imogen’s smile was gentle. “And from what Arthur and Philip have told me, in excruciating detail, I might add, you’re cut from the same cloth. Kind. Brave. Someone who cares for others even when it costs you.”
“I don’t feel very brave right now.”
“Bravery isn’t the absence of fear. It’s moving forward despite it.” Imogen released one of her hands to adjust a curl that had escaped from Eliza’s elaborate hairstyle. “You and Morgan will figure this out together. I have faith in that.”
Together? How can that be? Even with this marriage and matters seemingly settled, there is so much to overcome. Our dishonest beginnings and not to mention I do not have the slightest idea of how to make a marriage work, let alone be a duchess…
Eliza’s throat tightened, as she resolved to keep her reservations to herself. “Thank you. For everything…for being…”
“For being your friend?” Imogen’s eyes sparkled with warmth. “That’s what friends do.”
Friends.
The word settled around Eliza’s heart like a benediction. She hadn’t realized how desperately she’d needed one until this moment. How she wished Abigail could be here to see her so happy. Yet the guilt gnawed at her. Morgan was marrying her out of obligation. Out of some misguided sense of honor.
And she was letting him, because the alternative was unthinkable.
And Abigail. How can I be at peace, knowing that the man who killed my best friend walks the streets as a free man? Even with the protection of a Duke, how can I be sure I will not suffer a similar fate for crossing such a man?The thought made her shiver.
“It’s time,” Imogen said gently, as though reading her thoughts. “Are you ready?”
“Yes,” Eliza lied.
St. Anselm’s Chapel was smaller than Eliza had expected. Intimate, even. Morgan had kept the guest list minimal, just family and close friends, he’d said. Though Eliza suspected it was more to minimize the scandal than out of any preference for privacy. Her father waited for her at the entrance, dressed in his finest coat, his expression carefully neutral.
Looking at him now, Eliza wished desperately that things were different. That she could feel excitement at having her father walk her down the aisle. That there could be tears of joy insteadof this hollow ache in her chest. But Lord Ramersby made his choices. And she had made hers.
“You look well,” he said stiffly.
“Thank you, Father.”
He offered his arm. She took it, her hand trembling slightly. The doors opened. The small gathering inside turned to look at her. Eliza’s eyes found Morgan immediately. He stood at the altar in a dark coat, his expression unreadable, his emerald eyes fixed on her with an intensity that made her breath catch.
