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"Oh, my!" Lady Billingsley said in a breathless voice.
"If we start now, perhaps the wedding could be concluded before dusk,"
said the Duchess, her voice dry.
A frown creased the vicar's brow.
"I have not yet heard from the intended bride." He looked directly
into her eyes.
"Is this what you want? I see no reason to proceed further unless you
are willing."
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Jack stiffened beside her.
"It is what she wants."
"Mrs. Ellison can speak for herself," the vicar said, giving him a
stern look.
"Of course. Claire?"
She glanced up at him and saw the tinge of colour in his cheeks, and
the uncertainty in his eyes. With a flash of insight, she realised
that if she were to refuse him now she would humiliate him
unforgivably. She could not do that to him.
"Yes." She barely breathed the words.
"It is what I want." Relief flashed across his face.
"Very well." The vicar frowned at the rest of the company.
"If anyone else has something to say, I suggest they wait until after
the ceremony.
"We are--' he began.
"Hope I'm not too late!" Harry's cheerful voice boomed out from behind
them. Everyone turned.
He looked around the room, his eyes full of mischief.
"I can see I'm not. Well, don't let me stop you."
Jack watched Claire from across the room. She sat on a sofa, Dorothea
next to her. Getting a moment alone with her since the brief ceremony
had proved impossible. Not for the first time, he regretted not
dragging her off to Gretna Green. A quick wedding with strangers for
witnesses was hardly romantic, but at least they'd have been free of
all the swirling tensions that permeated the air around them.
"So, when do you plan to leave for Ely don Castle?" Harry said, coming
to his side.
"Biydon Castle?" He'd completely forgotten about it.
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"It is yours now. Or will be as soon as you and Claire reside there
the next six months. I doubt that will be a problem. It's'exactly the
sort of place she'll love. In fact, I suggest the sooner you're out of
this festive atmosphere, the better it will be for both of you." Jack
grinned sardonically, forgetting he was angry with Harry.
"So you noticed? I think Edward would have been happier to put a hole
through me than see me wed Claire. He hardly knew which would disgrace
the family more."
"He's never forgiven you for your supposed escape the first time
around."
Jack cast a glance at Edward who stood stony-faced across the room. He
saw Dorothea had left her place at Claire's side and was now standing
with Edward.
"No. If you will excuse me, I want a word with my bride."
Claire looked up at him, colour tingeing her pale cheeks when he came
to stand in front of her.
"May I speak to you for a moment?"
"Oh, yes ... of course." She flushed.
"Pl-please sit down."
"Alone." He held out his hand.
"There must be some place in this blasted house we could be private for
a few moments." She looked at his hand, then placed her own in his,
allowing him to draw her to her feet. Her hand felt cold, and he
wanted more than anything to pull her into his arms. Instead, he
planned to tell her she was now free to do as she pleased without
interference from him.
She led the way out of the drawing-room and to the library. It was
less intimate than he would have liked, but it was, at least, blessedly
quiet. She closed the door behind her.
"We can talk here."
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He frowned.
"You should sit down. You look on the verge of collapse."
"Hardly. I am a bit tired, but mostly I'm tired of everyone dictating
what I should do or feel." She was beginning to look cross.
"Nonetheless, you are going to sit down."
"I prefer to stand."
"I prefer to have you sit." He moved towards her, his mouth set in a
determined line. She glared at him.
"You have a choice, Claire: you may walk to the sofa, or I will carry
you."
She stared into his eyes for a moment, her chin raised defiantly.
"Is this what I'm to expect from you? That you'll dictate my every
move?"
"I'm not dictating your every move! I merely asked you to sit down."
His patience was wearing thin.
"You didn't ask. You demanded that I sit and then you threatened
me."
He had no idea whether he wanted to kiss her or shake her. He stepped
back, before he did something rash like pull her into his arms.
"Claire, my patience is quickly running out. Will you sit or not?"
She must have seen something in his face, for her breath quickened,
sudden awareness springing to her eyes.
"I... I think I will." She hurried to a chair and sat down, forcing
him to take the chair opposite her. He stood almost as quickly, and
went to lean against the mantelpiece.
"I realise you are married to me against your will.
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However, I will endeavour to make the situation as painless as
possible. "
He nearly groaned; he sounded as pompous and stiff as the surgeon who
had once removed a bullet from his arm. Perhaps he should offer her a
swig of whisky as well.
He cleared his throat.
"That is, I will try to restrain from inflicting my presence on you any
more than necessary. You may choose where you wish to live. I have
the town house in London and there is Grenville Hall, although my
stepmother prefers to reside there. There is a smaller estate in
Surrey and my hunting lodge in Scotland. I've no doubt my grandmother
would be delighted if you wished to stay with her. Or, if you prefer,
I can purchase a property for you anywhere you desire." He hadn't a
clue what he was saying. From the confused look on her face, he
suspected she hadn't either. And instead of looking relieved she was
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