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For the first time, she was rather glad of her uncle’s unsteady temperament, for it served as a welcome distraction. Had she not been trying to comfort and reassure him, she would have been trying to soothe herself, and she doubted that would have worked half so well.

“A month will pass like nothing,” she promised, resting her head on Bernard’s shoulder. “Stadley and Knotgill are not so far apart, either, so I shall be able to visit you often. I may bring William too, if I am permitted.”

Bernard slowly brightened. “That would be marvelous. I will have so many things to show him. All the things I loved as a boy.”

“Exactly.” Marina smiled. “All will be well.”

She repeated the sentiment out loud and in her head as the two of them made their way down the stairs and out to the carriage, with a small retinue of staff.

But as she sat down on the squabs and the footman closed the carriage door, all of her distractions unraveled, leaving behind a core of thrumming anxiety. She was about to be married to a relative stranger. She was about to give up life as she knew it, apart from everything familiar.

Oh goodness, please let everything be well.

For if it turned out that she had made a grave mistake, there would be no undoing it. Not without dire consequences.

“Did ye rest well?” Malcolm asked, a knowing note in his voice.

Anthony checked his fob watch for the tenth time, watching the minutes tick closer to eleven. His bride was not late, yet it felt like he had been waiting for an eternity.

“Perfectly well,” he replied. “Slept like a rock.”

Malcolm chuckled. “I’m sorry that I troubled ye last night; it wasnae my intention.”

“You did not trouble me. I was the one who troubled you.” Anthony glanced back at the reasonable congregation, his gaze falling on Octavia. She held a sleeping baby in her arms, while her eldest son entertained his younger sister.

“Did the children disturb you after I left?”

“Twice,” Malcolm groaned. “Why, are ye changing yer mind about more bairns?”

Anthony returned his attention to his watch. “Certainly not. I have an heir; that is enough.”

“I’d have ten bairns if I could,” Malcolm said, flashing a smile at his wife, who winked back despite being too far away to hear. “But I wouldnae put my poor love through that.”

“Yes, well, I am sure the desire to procreate is far stronger when you are in love with one another,” Anthony murmured, distracted.

An ache ran along the length of his shoulders where he had been holding his anxious tension since last night. Not once had he considered calling the entire thing off, but it had taken him a few deep breaths to leave the townhouse that morning.

Harriet and William had had no such trouble, both of them now seated eagerly on the front pew, whispering to each other. As giddy as schoolboys when there was cake to be had at dinner.

Not that anyone asked his opinion…

William’s pouting remarks were barbs in Anthony’s skull. Should he have asked what his son thought of Marina? Then again, William had not asked his father’s opinion about arranging an audition.

At that moment, the church doors opened and the organist sprang into action to play the bride down the aisle.

Everyone stood with a collective rustle of whispers and skirts, turning to give their respect to the future duchess. A few soft gasps rippled from wall to wall and up to the rafters, though the one in Anthony’s throat stayed lodged right there.

She was beautiful.

Beyond beautiful.

In a gown of dusky blue, almost the exact color of her eyes, she was no longer otherworldly, but ethereal. Bronze embroidery caught the light, spangles sparkling like stars as she walked toward him with her head held high.

A swathe of dark hair still covered the left side of her face, but tiny flowers had been woven into the silky locks, the rest of her hair sweeping back into a curly bun, studded with more of those little white flowers. Daisies, perhaps, though he was not yet close enough to know for sure.

Her skin glowed, pale as moonlight; her cheeks were flushed with pretty roses; and her lips were a bitten red that drew his eye, willing her to light up with one of her radiant smiles.

“Would ye like me to scoop yer jaw off the floor?” Malcolm teased in a whisper.