Somehow, Arabella knew even if he felt nothing for her, he would protect her, and that was a comfort.
“In sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part…”
Love. The word rang strangely in the cold air. Arabella felt inclined to laugh at this word. The Duke did not know the meaning of it, and he was not keen on finding out. He was merely saying the words out of sheer formality demanded by God and Crown.
But who was she to judge the dishonesty of his words when she was about to do the same? Because then it was her turn. Her chest constricted, and the gloves felt like a vice around her fingers. But if she wanted this to end, she had to move on and go through this.
“I, Arabella, take thee, Gerald, to my wedded husband…”
She heard her voice was smaller than she anticipated.
“To have and to hold from this day forward…”
The weight of that sentence fell on her like a stone.From this day forward.She was now bound to this man. She was entering a new phase of her life, not a girl anymore, but a woman. She was leaving her father’s house for good to enter this estate and live with a stranger.
“For better, for worse, for richer, for poorer…”
She almost chuckled at the irony of this sentence. She was sure that her life would be rich in a material sense from now on, but she was not sure it would not be poorer.
“In sickness and in health…”
She stopped for a brief second because she was about to say the word that upset her more than anything.
“To love, to cherish…”
Love. That stupid word again. As she uttered those words, just one fraction of a second, she could swear she saw his face flinch. But it must have been her imagination.
“…and to obey.”
She looked away uttering those words. They felt like a brand, and though she knew that the Duke would not want to have anything to do with her after the three nights he requested were done, she would never be free of him, not really.
The vicar nodded, satisfied, and Gerald reached into his coat for the ring. The gold band gleamed faintly in the muted light as he placed it upon her finger.
“With this ring I thee wed…”
The metal slid into place with ease. It was a perfect fit. Of course it was. The Duke was precise like that. She looked down at that ring in disbelief. It would be the one piece of jewelry that she would never take off, a constant reminder.
The vicar raised his hands.
“Those whom God hath joined together let no man put asunder.”
And it was done. It was over. The weight of realization fell upon her. She was no longer Arabella Marriott. She was now the Duchess of Albury.
She was so stunned by the simple transition that happens so easily, so quickly, and so painfully that she forgot. The kiss. Her eyes snapped up to his. The forest was quiet and unmoving. Gerald simply leaned towards her and left a brief, proper kiss on her lips. No, it would be unfair to call that a kiss, since it was merely the press of lips together, ceremonial and cold. Like their marriage.
Arabella wanted to scream in frustration. The contrast was so deep that it made her skin crawl. Was this the same man that devoured her against the bookcase? Managed to turn her world upside down by merely touching his lips on her neck? By almost undoing her in a carriage?
When he stepped back, his expression was the same, unwavering and appropriate. And this sealed her fate. The congregation stirred. A rustle of fabric. A murmur of approval. She removed her hands from his and turned to face them as they made their way outside the church.
She was informed that there would be no wedding breakfast, though for a social butterfly such as herself that was almost criminal. In this particular situation, she was relieved. The last thing she wanted to do was to mingle among the few guests, trying to look at least not overwhelmed and keep up appearances after the emotional devastation she had gone through.
Even so, she saw some of her relatives ready to come close and her body tensed. The last thing she needed right now was fake concern, false wishes, and endless questions about her new situation. The Ton was still humming over everything concerning this marriage.
The Duke of Albury, the infamous Cruel Duke, was getting married, something that the whole Ton never believed they would see. The fact that he was marrying a woman of much lower station than he was, with no funds or means and from a family that had no great influence, was the other surprise. And then it was her in particular. In the eyes of the Ton, they could not be more different. She was beloved and popular, and he was… well, himself.
She was bracing herself for a kind, quick dismissal of everyone approaching her, but she suddenly saw them distant and retreating as fast as they were advancing. She was at first perplexed at their reaction when she felt the Duke behind her. She looked up only to see him with that usual menacing face, preventing anyone from approaching them.
She was ready to say something to him, but he left to send off some of his acquaintances from Parliament, Lords of high station.
