Page 40 of The Duke’s Rejected Mate

The air is thick and still as I take my place in the seats with the Barringtons. Off to the side, in my family section, Father smiles at me, but Mother barely gives me a passing glance.

It’s not fair. None of this is my fault, yet I seem to be the one to suffer the most from it. Resting my head in my hands, I wait for the second banns to be read.

He has to have something. He must. Any moment now, Charles will stand and give his evidence to the congregation. Nothing. Not so much as a shifting in his seat.

Desperate, I look over at him, but he sits there, face like stone as we’re all led into a song of worship. My heart pounds in my chest as air threatens to lie still in my lungs, refusing to move.

Next to me, Penelope gives me a sympathetic look and squeezes my hand. The gesture is nice, but it doesn’t help me breathe as blind panic claws its way through my insides. She wraps her arms around my waist, but it only makes matters worse.

I need to get out of here. I need to flee the confines of the church. The same church I’ll stand to pledge my vows in less than two weeks.

Suddenly, the air shifts around me. That scent. I know that scent. It smells like the coast, like salt air and musk. And that’s when I feel it. The purr that vibrates through my back.

Even now, Henhaven stands behind me, comforting me in a way that only a man like him can. No doubt the others around us know it. I’m sure it will fuel the gossip lines as they spout about the love match born from a forced marriage.

But it’s not him I want soothing me as the songs continue to pound around my ears in discordant notes. It’s not his purr, his voice, his anything that I need. It’s Charles. And yet, because we are not betrothed, he has to stand at the other end of the pew, watching, but doing nothing.

How this must hurt for him. How this must enrage him. Forced to watch another in his place. Rooted to the spot by damned duty. It’s enough to make me sick.

As soon as we’re able to sit, I take in a deep breath, unwillingly aided by Henhaven’s purr. My mind loathes the way I relax for him, but my body doesn’t care. I’m trapped inside as it responds. First my heart rate, then my breathing until the world comes back into focus.

The minister’s words surround my head in a buzz, but I don’t hear any of them. Sorrow stays locked behind my breastbone as I sit there, unable to move, unable to think.

When we’re finally released, I move as fast as I can, refusing to give Henhaven another chance to soothe me. But it’s no use. Even as we set foot into the house, a note awaits us.

When that goes unanswered, it’s another. And another. Until I’m forced to write back, begging off for sake of feeling ill. It’s not a lie. It’s the truth. Just not in the way he expects it.

Groaning, I drag myself to the bedroom and undress before sliding beneath the covers. There, I sob into the pillow until I fear I have no tears left. Less than two weeks. What miracle can be performed in such a short time?

Chapter 19

Cynthia

Monday

I stare at the chocolate in front of me, nearly ill at the thought. Though I spent all day and night yesterday in my room unmolested, I find my appetite gone and my desire for visitors waned. Unfortunately, I don’t have much of a choice.

Groaning, I try to focus on just swallowing the chocolate. I need Charles’s touch now more than anything. I can’t do anything to jeopardize it. Even if that means choking down this drink and forcing myself to eat at breakfast.

Once in my morning gown, I head downstairs where the others sit at breakfast. Now, instead of just the triplets and the dowager duchess, the entire Barrington clan sits there eating in near silence. It’s odd seeing them all together.

Even worse is the heartbreak when I look over at Charles who barely acknowledges me. Such a picturesque setting, yet I want none of it. I gather my meats, cheeses and breads and sit across from my temptation, and put a small bit of food in my mouth.

Though he keeps the paper up between us, I watch as he lowers it and studies me with that cool calculation of his as he monitors exactly what goes into my mouth. At least he still cares about that part of our arrangement.

Off to the side, the triplets squirm a bit, but still say nothing. It’s an uneasy silence between all of us. Why, I cannot fathom. It’s not as if I’ve done anything untoward. That, and if Charles and I had been found out, I would be dragged before my father demanding the wedding be called off.

“Are you ready for your wedding:” the dowager duchess ask, giving me a soft smile.

“I still need to get fitted for my dress. And I’m sure there’s other planning to be done.”

“Well then, I’m sure your mother will enjoy such an activity together. Yes?”

Everyone looks at me as heat climbs up my face. “She hasn’t said as much. In fact, I haven’t received any correspondence from her other than to tell me my budget. She did not list a location to go. Nor did she mention accompanying me.”

Until this moment, I never actually let myself think of the formalities of this wedding. In my heart, I just knew Charles would find something to cast a pall on this arrangement and bind me to him. Now, I have to face the reality that I just might have to go through with it after all.

I feel lost and overwhelmed as I study my plate. All my life I had dreamt of this moment. Not with my mother, of course, but with the dowager duchess leading me and guiding me.