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Please arrive at one o'clock.
The Duke of Buckingham confirms that no prior meeting is required.
No prior meeting required.
If anything, she had to admire the confidence of Mr Ellis and Mr Didley in anticipating the Duke's needs in a bride, to the point that no meeting beforehand was deemed necessary. Surely this was not how such things were done among the ton. A gentleman of his standing would have attended balls, paid afternoon calls, enjoyed walks on promenades beneath watchful chaperones, and dined with prospective brides' families before anyone contemplated marriage. Courtship was meant to unfold over weeks, perhaps months, each meeting revealing another small piece of a person's character until affection, or at the very least familiarity, had begun to take root.
She would have none of that.
Now she had only a time and a place before she laid eyes on her groom.
It seemed extraordinary that she was expected to vow herself to a man she would not recognise if he walked through the door that very moment. In a matter of hours she would promise to honour him and entrust him with every remaining year of her life, yet she knew nothing of him beyond his title. That ignorance made each vow feel heavier.
She wished she had even the smallest inkling of what he looked like. Was his hair sandy blond or as dark as her own? Was he short or a giant? Broad-shouldered from years in the army, or lean from long hours spent bent over ledgers? Did he possess all his limbs, or had the war demanded some cruel payment? Every person in Windleham seemed to possess a different account of the Duke, and none of them eased her mind. If all their conjectures were true, he would have been a seven-foot dwarf with fangs, red eyes, and silver skin.
More than anything else, she found herself wondering about the first time his gaze would meet hers.
Would there be disappointment?
Indifference?
Or, if providence was feeling especially generous, would he smile?
She had also hoped to know more about the wedding arrangements, perhaps even to offer her opinion on the colours or the floral arrangements, but she guessed that the Duke had his own vision for the wedding. It was unusual for a man to take such an interest in the details, but then again, there was nothing commonplace about this bargain.
She only hoped she would not disappoint him.
When Mr Didley had finished reading the first letter aloud, Eliza had only one request: the children of the orphanage—Henry, Mary, Cora, and little Alice—to be permitted to attend the ceremony. She hoped the girls might scatter flowers before her, while Henry proudly carried out the role of page boy.
She wished her own adoptive brothers and sister could stand beside her, but they had long since been scattered across the country. Four weeks was scarcely enough time to locate them all and send them invitations, let alone wait for a reply. The thought saddened her, but she refused to dwell on it.
Mr Didley had smiled kindly and promised to write to Mr Ellis with her request at once.
A week later, another letter arrived bearing the Buckingham seal.
Mr Didley carefully broke the crimson wax seal bearing the crest with his letter opener before adjusting his face and clearing his throat.
Dear Charles,
After some discussion, His Grace has agreed to the request.
The following children may attend the ceremony:
Miss Mary Didley, Bridesmaid
Master Henry Didley, Page Boy
Miss Cora Didley, Flower Girl
Miss Alice Didley, Flower Girl
Yours sincerely,
Mr Leroy Ellis
Perhaps it had not been an enthusiastic agreement. Mr Ellis's wording had suggested as much. But it had still been a yes.
And that was the last she had heard from Mr Ellis or anyone associated with the Duke. In their absence, she continued to hear tales whispered of his character. Villagers insisted he was no ordinary man at all and that no mirror reflected him properly, that he wandered the estate long after midnight without the need for sleep, and that the devil himself had spared him on the battlefield in exchange for what remained of his soul.
