Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

“ J uliet, you must be so nervous!” Isabella’s voice broke through the hum of activity around her.

Isabella gathered the shirts of her pretty dress and hurried towards Juliet.

Juliet managed a small smile as the girl stepped into the room. She adjusted the corset and turned to get a good look at her back. The gown embraced her body’s curves like a second skin.

“Well, aren’t you?” Isabella repeated.

“Am I nervous? A little, yes,” Juliet replied.

The morning had started early with maids moving about, ensuring every detail was perfect. Juliet remained still as they worked on her hair and gown, but her mind was all over the place.

The news of her upcoming marriage was already consuming London society like wildfire. The added scourge of Mother Superior’s devilish undertakings did nothing to ease her notoriety. She could hear the sly whispers outside her door. “ Did you hear she has been in a convent all these years? The poor girl was thrust into marriage so suddenly. At her age, and with such a past…one can only wonder what this is all truly about .”

Juliet closed her eyes, willing herself to remain calm. She had expected this, the whispers and the judgments, but that didn’t make them any easier to bear.

“Hurry, Lady Juliet. Everyone’s eager to meet the bride,” Leila said as she walked into the room. “Ah, you look absolutely breathtaking, My Lady.”

“You flatter me, Leila,” Juliet said and smiled a little.

Finally, it was time. Juliet looked at her reflection one last time, taking in the sight of herself in the elegant white gown. The modiste had done an excellent job, and despite the comments, Juliet knew she was a beautiful bride.

Her father entered the room, his face an expression of pride and regret. “Juliet, you look radiant,” he said softly.

“Father,” Juliet acknowledged tensely, not yet ready to speak with him after their conversation the day before.

Her father was walking her down the aisle, and her stepmother would be somewhere in the crowd. As for her mother, the one person who truly deserved to be there, she was no more. On days like today, she wished for her mother the most. At least she would have had one person on her side.

“I have something to ask of you,” Juliet told her father.

“Oh, anything for you, my child.”

“Leila…might I take her with me to my husband’s house? She is the only friend I have outside the convent, and I…”

“Say no more. Of course you are entitled to bring your lady’s maid with you.” The Earl waved off Juliet’s opening string of reasons. “Though I was hoping to find you a more suitable maid; Leila is new and just as young as you are.”

“No, she’ll do perfectly fine,” Juliet interrupted.

She wanted a companion and friend, not simply a maid, and Leila fit all her requirements seamlessly.

“Whatever you want then,” agreed the Earl. “Now, it is time we walked you out. The whole of London awaits the bride.”

She took her father’s arm with a sigh, and together, they walked to the chapel. As they moved through the halls, Juliet thought of her friends at St. Catherine’s. They were the only ones who had come close to family, and they were not here. The thought only heightened her deep regret about the impromptu wedding.

The chapel was filled with guests who all turned as one to watch as Juliet walked in. She felt their heavy gazes as they scrutinized and murmured at her every move.

But then she saw the Duke standing at the altar, and the world around her melted away. Her attention was focused solely on the man who would soon become her husband, noting how impeccably handsome he looked as he waited for her to arrive by his side.

His expression was stern, but his gaze relaxed as he watched her approach. Juliet felt inexplicably drawn to his soulful contemplation, and she suddenly felt that, perhaps, some of her worries about their marriage might have been mistaken.

Her friend had always been a good judge of character, and she had always spoken so highly of her brother. Looking at him now, Juliet could understand how easily one could come to adore him.

The Duke stood with an air of confidence and reliability that urged Juliet to expect the best out of their marriage rather than the worst. Deep in her heart, she wanted to trust that impression.

As they continued walking down the aisle, the murmurs faded into the background as Juliet focused on putting one foot in front of the other.

Oddly enough, she was grateful for the strong presence of her father beside her, more so than she had expected.When they reached the altar, the Earl gently placed Juliet’s hand in Hector’s.

And thus, the ceremony began.

The reception that followed flew by in a blur of faces and conversations.

She was thankful that Hector stayed close by her side because she did not know how to interact with such high standing members of the Ton on her own.

Juliet feared that, without Hector to guide her, she would say or do the wrong thing and cause the Duke and her own family embarrassment She continually glanced at him to ensure that she was mimicking his relaxed expression and to determine how best to respond to a greeting before she parted her lips to speak.

If her husband noticed her behavior, he said nothing about it.

One thing that caught her off-guard was the continued whispers about her and her sudden marriage to the Duke.

She should’ve expected as much from her guests as London and gossip were peas in a pod. If that was included in the endless on-goings of society and status, one would never run out of entertaining content for a weekly column.

It had been very strange being the subject of what appeared to be a profoundly serious uproar, but Juliet didn’t let it bother her. The tide of curiosity would shift soon enough, and it would be someone else’s private affairs that were openly butchered and laid bare for everyone to examine and discuss.

“Your Grace, you look lovely,” one woman said, her tone sweet but her eyes sharp as she looked Juliet over, openly studying their new Duchess.

The woman was Margaret Walters, the Viscountess of Blumesbury, and she was Lady Campton’s friend.

“Thank you,” Juliet replied politely. She was unsure she’d met the woman before, but since she didn’t know most of faces around her, she pushed aside the formalities.

“I see you have none of your mother’s traits,” said Margaret.

Juliet paled at the woman’s insensitivity. “I do not know who you are, but kindly refrain from speaking about my mother,” she warned.

“Oh, now, there is the feistiness I was looking for,” Margaret exclaimed. “Perhaps I was wrong.”

I will not tolerate such disrespect.

Juliet stepped closer to the woman to give her a taste of her own medicine. “Since you now see how feisty I can be, if I were you, I would refrain from making such demeaning remarks.”

“What’s going on here?” Lady Campton demanded as she stepped between the two of them. She turned to her friend with a raised brow. “Viscountess Blumesbury, meet my stepdaughter, Juliet. Now, she…”

“I know who she is,” the Viscountess hissed and stepped away.

“Are you all right?” Dinah turned to the new bride.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” asked Juliet in turn, holding up her chin in defiance.

Her attention briefly alighted upon the woman as she walked away before she also turned and walked away from Lady Campton. She stopped in the corner of the grand hall, her gaze taking in the host of people gathered to celebrate with them. Most, of course, had other reasons for showing up.

“A glass of lemonade for you, Your Grace,” Leila said, stopping in front of Juliet. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you, Leila,” said Juliet, reaching for the cup. She took a sip from the glass and shut her eyes to silence the din of the room. “What about…”

“My, my, if it’s not the new bride,” drawled another lady.

“That’s Lady Smythe,” whispered Leila. “Be careful with her, Your Grace,” she added and hurried off.

Juliet spun around, her gaze sizing up a lady draped in layers of silk and jewels. “Lady Smythe.”

Lady Smythe didn’t bother hiding her disdain. “How quaint of the Duke to choose a bride of such… humble origins.”

Juliet huffed. “It is indeed surprising how life can take such unexpected turns.”

“Unexpected, yes,” Lady Smythe replied sharply. “I can scarcely imagine how a girl raised in a nunnery could possibly understand our complex society. But then…” she paused as her gaze roamed over Juliet, and she sneered, “perhaps, what the Duke seeks isn’t understanding.”

“If complexity is what the Ton breeds,” Juliet said, stepping closer to the lady, “then I dare say they’ve failed as a group. One should be happy if she doesn’t fit into that small box.”

The lady scoffed. “That’s no way to speak…”

Juliet didn’t bother exchanging further words with her. She drank the rest of her lemonade, handed the glass to a passing staff member, and walked away after excusing herself gracefully.

Even then, she wasn’t allowed to enjoy her small feat. Whispers followed her as she moved around the hall.

When a small hand stopped her, she sighed and halted in her tracks.

“You are a lucky woman,” the lady mused. ‘We’ve all had eyes on the Duke.”

“His quick strides and ruggedly handsome face…” another gushed before hastily covering her mouth.

Juliet visibly relaxed. These ladies appeared to be a friendlier bunch than the poisonous pomposity she’d just endured.

“He’s quite a handsome man. The young maidens of London were all after him,” said a lady, giving Juliet a conspiratorial wink. “They must hate you now that you’ve stolen him.”

“Oh, I see now,” Juliet joked, pleased to have met someone well-intentioned enough to converse with.

“And welcome to the married community,” another guest greeted.

Juliet forced a tight smile as she overheard a lady whisper into another’s ear, “Poorly raised girls can never make good duchesses.”

The depth of the Ton’s jealousy could ruin anyone .

Hector suddenly stepped in, his expression stern. “If you will excuse us, my wife and I have other guests to whom we must attend.”

“Finally,” Juliet said under her breath.

She relaxed as he led her away, gripping her arm firmly.

“Ignore them,” he said quietly. “They don’t know you.”

Juliet nodded. “Thank you.”

“I have some friends you should meet,” he pointed out. “They always come around the house, so you might want to become acquainted with them sooner rather than later.”

As he led her through the crowd, Juliet’s thoughts swirled. Her duties as a wife had followed seamlessly on the heels of her nuptials, and the responsibilities attached to her new life were coming to light very quickly.

“There’s the couple! Greetings to the Duke and his bride, the Duchess of Islington.” A man cheered, stopping them in the center of the grand hall. “I must commend you on how graceful you look when compared to your rogue husband, Your Grace.”

Hector shook his head. “Please refrain from sugarcoating anything around my wife,” he said. “Limit that to Emma.”

If Juliet noticed that Hector had now called her his wife on two occasions, she didn’t say anything. She focused with rapt attention on the sweet man before them, whose face was adorned with a beatific smile. A lady whom Juliet assumed to be his wife joined their small group with a chuckle.

“Your Grace, congratulations,” the lady greeted.

“Thank you. How are your little ones?” asked Hector.

“We could not risk bringing along the troublesome darlings. It is probably for the best, lest they ruin your wonderful day with crying fits.”

Hector nodded and turned to his new bride. “This is Marcus Steward, Marquess of Elwike. My cousin and good friend…”

“And business associate,” Marcus chimed in.

“Marcus, let His Grace do the introductions,” the lady cautioned her husband, lovingly circling her arm into his.

Juliet instantly liked the couple and could sense the love flowing between them. She had been a great believer in love since an early age but knew better than to wish for the same in her arranged marriage.

“Yes. Thank you, cousin,” the Duke glared at his friend. “And this is Lady Elwike, his wife and the lovely woman who has somehow tolerated him all these years,” Hector introduced.

“Please, call me Emma,” Lady Elwike requested with a sweet smile.

“Only if you call me Juliet,” the Duchess smiled back.

As the introductions continued, Juliet felt a mixture of emotions. The weight of her new role was daunting, but Hector’s steady presence beside her provided her with a surprising degree of solace. She realized that, despite her uncertainty and fear, that sense of comfort was something to hold on to.

Perhaps, given enough time, Hector and I could also build something meaningful together, a friendship and companionship based upon trust and mutual respect. I can hope for that.

The balance of the reception passed in a whirlwind of conversations and good wishes. During the course of the evening, Juliet artfully concealed her lack of experience and gracefully handled the social affair through Hector’s quiet guidance.

As the night drew to a close, Hector took her hand. “It is time to leave,” he said gently.

Juliet nodded, relieved and apprehensive at the same time. “I’ll just bid my family farewell…” she said and stopped to look around for them, but there was no one in sight.

Hector said nothing as he helped Juliet into the carriage and stepped in behind her. Suddenly, the sound of rapid footsteps echoed across the cobblestones as someone approached their carriage in an obvious hurry.

“Juliet,” Lord Campton said, his voice trembling slightly. “I… I wanted to say goodbye properly.”

Juliet stiffened, caught off guard by his sudden appearance and his unexpected show of emotion. She had been prepared for a quick departure when nobody was there to bid her farewell, but here he was, standing before her, vulnerable in a way she had rarely seen.

Hector helped her out of the carriage and stepped aside to give them privacy.

“Father,” she said, keeping her voice steady. “It’s…”

He cut her off, “You are a Duchess now. Remember that.”

Juliet felt a bout of conflicting emotions. She was angry, grieving, and amidst all that, longing for the father she had lost long before her mother’s death.

She took a deep breath to clear her head. “Farewell.”

Her father looked down for a moment. “Your mother would have been so proud of you today,” he said softly. “She loved you more than anything in this world.”

Juliet’s heart clenched at the mention of her mother. “Do not bring my mother into this conversation. You never genuinely cared for her.”

“I truly did love her,” Algernon said, his voice heavy with emotion. “She was the best part of my life. And now, I see so much of her in you.”

“Clearly not enough to have wanted me by your side,” Juliet sighed, irritated by her father’s dramatics.

Even now, he was not concerned for her or her well-being. Not once since her return had he acknowledged how difficult her life must have been all those years. Instead, he was still making excuses, trying to convince her to pardon him, as though he was the one who had suffered the most.

“Juliet, please…”

“I did what you wanted; I married the Duke as you had planned. Now, I ask that you allow me to do what I can to make the most of my new life without you in it , just as you have always preferred.” Juliet raised her chin, determined to appear as firm as she possibly could. “Goodbye, Father.”

He reached out as if to touch her, but Juliet stepped away from his reach with a cold expression.

Watching the exchange from a respectful distance, Hector stepped forward and took Juliet’s hand again.

“That is enough Lord Campton,” he said, stepping between them.

Her father flinched and acceded to Hector’s demand.

Satisfied with Lord Campton’s reaction, Hector turned back to Juliet, “Shall we?”

Juliet nodded. “Yes, let us go.”

Lord Campton patted the Duke’s shoulder. “Take care of my daughter. Please.”

Hector gave him a cold stare before turning away. Holding his wife’s arm, they made their way to the waiting carriage.

As the door closed behind them, Juliet glanced back at the house, her heart heavy with the finality of the farewell.