Chapter 18

CHAPTER18

“Please, join me in congratulating our newly married couple, Xander Grant, the Duke of Barlow, and his Duchess, Violet Grant.”

The words seemed to solidify the matter. Violet looked between the thin gold band on her ring finger and Xander beside her, who hadn’t yet released her hand. He turned to face her as, around them, applause went up from the congregation.

“Kiss the bride!” Lord Huxley called from his place in the front pew beside Xander’s mother and sister.

Violet felt winded. Her stomach clenched as she felt with certainty that Xander wouldn’t kiss her, not after how they had been caught in his study together. But then he moved toward her, and the applause grew louder as he placed his lips on hers.

Violet closed her eyes. She wouldn’t have been surprised had he pulled back quickly, but he did not. He held that kiss, and she started to sink into it, to feel the warmth of his lips on hers like some sort of comfort.

It wasn’t like their passionate kisses, but something else, something almost delicate, and then it was suddenly over, and he pulled back from her. She staggered on her feet, and he caught her arm.

He said nothing to her reaction but raised his eyebrow, showing clearly that he had indeed noticed it.

Looping her arm through his own, he led her through the chapel and toward the door.

Violet barely paid attention to what had happened, for she was too busy reeling from the fact that she was not only now married to the Dark Duke but that he had kissed her in such a soft way.

She was vaguely aware of her mother kissing her on both cheeks, of Celia smiling delightedly, and of Jonathan warily applauding with the others. Her friends ran forward to congratulate her. Diana clasped her hand wordlessly as Grace nearly tripped on her train in the effort to reach her, and Eleanor smiled with a sort of knowing look.

They left the chapel where some of Xander’s tenants waited, throwing flower petals into the air. No carriage awaited them to take them to the house, for they had married at the chapel on the edge of Xander’s grounds.

Instead, the two of them led the way back to the house, with neither of them saying a word to one another. All that Violet could hear was the excited chatter behind her as Xander maintained a firm hold on her arm.

Secretly, she was glad of his touch. It kept her steady when she thought she might fall at his feet.

When they entered the house, the doors to the dining room had been flung open, and the wedding breakfast was revealed to them.

“Your mother went to town with her preparations, did she not?” Violet whispered, saying her first words to Xander since she had said her vows.

“That, she did,” Xander agreed with a nod.

There wasn’t a part of the table that was not decked with beautiful food. There were great honey cakes and freshly made breads, with soft fruits cascading out of bowls. A vast golden punch bowl stood at one end of the table, with great silver ladles ready to pour the alcohol.

Perhaps the most astounding thing on the table was the wedding cake, which was inlaid with white icing to mirror Violet’s gown. It spelled out their initials on the cake, though Violet felt a little sick as she looked at it.

Xander towed her toward the head of the table, not releasing her until she sat down in the chair. She turned toward him, about to speak. Perhaps they could now have some sort of conversation after the strange week of silence that had passed between them, but as she parted her lips to talk to him, he was gone, moving away from her and going to greet their other guests.

“Well, what a wedding!” a familiar voice cried as someone sat down on her other side. Violet looked around to see Eleanor. “It was beautiful, I must say. Your mother and sister did a fine job, indeed.”

“Is that really what you think of this wedding?” Violet asked with a raised eyebrow.

“I think many things.” Eleanor rolled her eyes.

“Each as unhelpful as the next,” Grace pointed out, appearing behind Eleanor and leaning on the chair. “Ignore her. She’s just worried about you.”

Eleanor nodded, even before Grace had finished saying the words.

“How are you?” Diana asked, also appearing and standing behind Violet’s chair, leaning on the back of it. “There were moments where I thought you could have been happy in the ceremony—”

“Could have been? Pah! Glowing appraisal indeed, is it not?” Eleanor asked with a laugh.

“Not helpful.” Grace prodded her in the back.

“Well, what do you think, Grace?” Eleanor gestured to her with a wave of her hand. “Did our friend look happy to you?”

Grace grimaced.

“Don’t answer that question, please, Grace,” Violet begged. “I’m well aware I hardly made a glowing or delighted bride.” She sighed heavily. “I think I need a drink.”

One was quickly produced. Eleanor snatched up the glass as Grace poured the wine, then it was passed to her. Violet downed that one before the glass was returned to Grace for a refill.

“Well, a wedding does not make a marriage,” Diana murmured once Violet was halfway through her second glass.

“What do you mean?” Grace asked.

“I mean that many a brilliant wedding has been followed by sad marriages. Equally, many a strange wedding has been followed by happy marriages. The success of what is effectively a party does not determine the success of the couple.”

“Diana, when you do speak your mind, you speak such wisdom,” Eleanor said with a pleased smile. “You should speak your mind much more.”

Grace nodded in agreement, but at that moment, Violet could not join in. As apt and accurate as her friend’s statement was, she was not certain it applied to her and Xander.

“I imagine happy marriages must begin a little differently than my own.”

“You mean with something other than limerence or fascination?” Eleanor asked.

“What!?” Violet spluttered, choking on her wine so much that Diana clapped her on the back. Fortunately, her splutter went quite unnoticed by the other guests, who were now circling the table, collecting their food and wine with great joy and chatter.

“Well, it’s what you had, was it not?” Eleanor appealed to Grace, who seemed reluctant to nod but did in the end.

“Even you have to admit it, Violet,” Grace murmured. “What you have felt for the Duke of Barlow for some time now could be put down to limerence. You wrote a book about him.”

“I am not obsessed,” Violet said sharply. “I was inspired by him. You know that.”

“Have you written anything since this has all happened?” Grace said with far too much perception for Violet’s liking. She went back to drinking her wine.

“I just hope it will all be well in the end,” Diana said with her usual softness. “Maybe, someday, the two of you will understand each other better. Then you will be happy.”

“I wish I had your optimism, Diana,” Violet muttered. “Top me up, would you, please?” She passed the glass back to Grace, who instead of topping it up, decided to hide it. “I don’t remember asking you to hide it.”

“You should remember something of your wedding night.” Grace refused to give the glass back.

Wedding night…

A pleasant sort of shudder raced up Violet’s spine, and she turned her head, looking for Xander in the crowd. He was standing at the far end of the room, talking with Lord Huxley and other gentlemen. Well, they were talking. Xander stood quite silently, as cold and as distant as he looked in most company.

The thought of a wedding night with him, of the fact there would be no barriers, no restrictions or rules between them, now did thrill her, despite her fears and awkwardness.

Would he make love to her, at last?

“Well, I am truly sorry, Violet.” Another voice reached her ears. It was Celia.

“What for?” Violet asked as Celia plopped down in the chair which should have been Xander’s.

“For the dare I gave you.” Celia sat back in the chair with a heavy sigh. “If I had known you would look so miserable at your wedding breakfast, I never would have urged you to elicit some sort of emotional reaction from the Dark Duke.”

“Well, I suppose there is one good thing in it. I won the dare,” Violet said with forced triumph. “I have seen many emotions in him since that night.”

She had seen confusion, anger, even hot rage, then she had seen passion, too, pursuit, and possessiveness. Each emotion had endeared him more to her, even though she wished it had not.

I like him. Even now, when he chooses to keep as much distance from me as he possibly can.

* * *

Xander couldn’t wait for the wedding breakfast to be over. He was perfectly sober and had chosen to drink tea instead of a single drop of wine, so he could be in control of his senses. He watched impatiently for all the food to be finished and for his guests to start taking their leave.

He’d not said a word to Violet since leaving her at the table, though he had looked at her often. He’d caught her staring at him across the room, and he was certain she was aware that he was staring at her, too.

Enough of all this staring and all this dancing around one another. Let us have some real satisfaction, at last.

It was the one thing he had promised her, that he would give her pleasure, and he didn’t intend to wait for the night to show her that pleasure. This afternoon, as soon as all the guests had parted, he would show her what she had truly wanted to experience. All of it.

“Well, thank you for an interesting wedding breakfast.” Anthony clapped Xander on the arm. “I am happy for you, my friend. I just hope you find yourself to be happy as well soon.”

“I’m perfectly content,” Xander muttered.

“And if that was not said through gritted teeth, I might believe you. Would it have something to do with the fact that Mr. Garrett is kissing your new wife’s hand as he says goodbye?”

Xander didn’t answer. He just glared at Mr. Garrett across the table as he kissed Violet’s hand for a second time in parting. Had no other been left in the room but them, Xander would have grabbed the man by the scruff of his jacket and thrown him out.

“I’ll wish you a good day, Xander. I meant what I said. I hope you find happiness in this.” Then, Anthony was gone, leaving the house fast.

Xander looked around, merely registering that his friend was a good man indeed, a kind friend to still wish him well after all that had happened with his sister.

Xander wondered absentmindedly where Tilly was now and what she would make of him finding someone else to marry, then he pushed the thought away. Tilly had not been a part of his life for some time, and she never would be again. Now, he had another to think of—another who had actually bothered to come to the wedding.

Xander marched across the room and stood behind Mr. Garrett.

“I wish you well, Your Grace.” Mr. Garrett bent forward as if he would dare to kiss Violet’s hand for the third time.

“Ahem.” Xander cleared his throat loudly.

Mr. Garrett dropped her hand at once and scurried back. “I was just congratulating your new wife, Your Grace—”

“So you were. We thank you for your words. Good day.” Xander nodded at the door, and Mr. Garrett took his leave fast.

Xander stood possessively beside Violet, aware that her eyes were burning into him, but he didn’t look at her. He was watching as his mother and sister approached them instead.

“We shall take our leave now, Xander.” Katherine stood on her tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek, and then she moved on to Violet and kissed her, too. “Enjoy yourselves—oh, a newlywed couple. What happiness there will be! We shall see you both soon.”

“Fear not, I shall take her away now.” Helena caught Katherine’s arm and towed her away. “So you can have some peace, at last.”

Katherine was clearly in no rush to go, though. “Write to me, will you not?” she called to Violet. “I should like for us to know each other better.”

Violet nodded rather woodenly, and Xander realized that he now knew her so well, he could see in her expression the confusion and the surprise. Somehow, he didn’t doubt that Violet would write. She had kindness in her and would keep to her word.

“Where are they going?” Violet whispered as Helena at last managed to get his mother out the door.

“To our country estate,” Xander explained. “They wished to give us some peace.”

“Peace? In London?” Violet smiled a little.

Xander looked around. They still had a few people to say goodbye to. He urged a few more people to take their leave, so soon, there were just Violet’s parents and sister left.

Xander shook Jonathan’s hand in parting. On their walk together earlier in the week, Xander felt he and Jonathan understood one another a little. Had they met under different circumstances, they could have been friends, for they both had such a fondness for the outdoors and enjoyed their walk, but Xander feared there would always be a schism between them now.

As Jonathan shook his hand, it was in the older man’s expression—the animosity that Xander had drawn Violet into scandal and a rushed marriage.

“Come and visit us soon, will you not?” Jonathan pleaded with Violet.

“Yes, please do,” Celia seconded.

“She’s a married woman now. A duchess, no less!” Marianne giggled. “She’ll have other thoughts on her mind.”

“Mother,” Celia muttered warningly. Much like Helena had done with Katherine, she took Marianne’s arm and towed her toward the door. “Come, let us take our leave.”

“Yes, let’s.” Jonathan paused long enough to embrace Violet. “We shall see one another soon, yes?”

“Yes, Father. We will.”

Then, they left, and when the door closed behind them, there was a sudden silence. The staff hadn’t yet come to tidy up the room, so it was just the two of them, with both of them staring at the closed door.

“Your mother and sister…” Violet began slowly. “Why have they gone to the country again? To give us peace, you said?”

“Yes. Peace for this.” Xander didn’t hesitate. He turned and kissed her.