Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

S imon cleared his throat and took up his stance at the front of the altar, patiently awaiting the arrival of Lady Octavia.

I am going to be a husband.

The thought alone made him clench his jaw as images of his father on that fateful night flashed before his eyes. Marriage was nothing more than a farce created by society. He could not believe that he had allowed himself to be backed into a corner.

Coming forward, the Dowager Duchess sniffed back her tears. “You look ever so handsome in your tails. It does my heart good to see you standing here in front of the altar.” She reached up to fix his shirt and slapped his hands away when he began to fuss.

“I hesitate to remind you, Grandmamma, that I am doing this out of obligation and nothing more,” he grumbled under his breath and rolled his eyes when she ignored his protests, dusting off his shoulders.

“Then hesitate some more, dear. Do not ruin this day for me now that it is here.” Bernice shook her head, despite the broad smile that curved her lips.

Simon eyed his grandmother suspiciously, from her rosy cheeks to the straightness of her posture. She had chosen a lemon-yellow dress for the day and had pinned her hair in an elaborate braid. Her eyes practically shone with flecks of gold as she barely stopped herself from crying.

“You seem to have made a miraculous recovery in the past few days. Are you sure that you were ill to begin with?” His jaw clenched as his suspicion grew.

“Hush now. I am not sure what you are accusing me of, but I plead innocence. Good news can cure a person’s heart just as quickly as bad news can damage it.”

She gave him a final swat of love on his upper arm before returning to her seat in the front pew.

“If only all the doctors in London knew of your epiphany,” Simon grumbled, shaking his head in annoyance when he realized that there was every chance his grandmother had been faking her illness. It was just like her to meddle and come up with a scheme.

“How are you holding up?” Arthur chuckled as he came to his side. He wore a fresh, brown suit, and his hair had been combed to the side. Yet none of these factors hid the fact that he was once again nursing a headache.

Simon decided to ignore his friend’s obvious late night. “Much better than you. There is no need for everyone to keep checking up on me when I am doing this out of obligation. I am neither nervous nor scared.”

Arthur gave him a look of exasperation before patting him on the back. “One protests a little too much for someone who does not care.”

The Duke was about to retort when the large oak doors at the entrance to the chapel suddenly opened. “I do not…”

And he quieted as his eyes fell on Lady Octavia.

She looked like a vision in champagne satin. Her raven hair hung down her back in an intricate braid that had been adorned with hundreds of little white flowers. He could not believe how brilliantly her bright blue eyes shone in the light. Their distinctive shape was visible down the aisle even from beneath her lace veil.

Simon tore his gaze away from her when Arthur leaned in to whisper before returning to his seat.

“You might want to close your mouth, Simon; people might just think you are marrying her for something other than obligation.” Arthur chuckled.

Shooting him a lethal look, Simon lifted his gaze to Octavia just as she reached the top of the aisle.

“I am sorry if I kept you waiting,” she apologized before placing her hands in his.

“Not… not at all.” His mouth suddenly felt dry as he looked into her beautiful eyes.

Why cannot I think straight?

He felt like kicking himself for stuttering like a fool in her presence. There was something about the light in the large chapel that made her naturally tanned skin glow with a halo-like effect.

“Now that we are all here, we can start the ceremony,” the Vicar spoke from the pulpit, making Simon flinch. He had been so distracted that he had not even noticed the Vicar’s arrival.

“We are here today to join two souls on holy matrimony, so without further ado, and if there are no objections…” He lowered his gaze and scrutinized the small group that gathered.

The Dowager Duchess beamed up at them while Arthur shifted in his seat. The Earl of Winthorpe sat proudly with a woman, whom Simon presumed was his bride’s godmother, at his side.

“Very well then, we shall begin with the exchange of vows. Do you, Simon Wakefield, Duke of Sunderley, take this young woman to be my wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness or in health, to love and to cherish, ’til death do you part, according to God’s holy ordinance; thereto plight your troth?”

The Vicar stopped and waited expectantly, looking down his nose with a serious expression.

His heart raced as Simon looked back at Octavia, who had parted her lips ever so slightly.

“I do.” His heart raced even faster when he realized that he’d be kissing her perfect lips in a matter of moments.

The Vicar’s voice echoed through the church as he continued with the ceremony. “And do you, Octavia Townshend, take this man to be thyweddedhusband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness or in health, to love and to cherish, ’til death do you part, according to God’s holy ordinance; thereto plight your troth?”

Her chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm as she took a deep breath. “I do,” she answered after a brief pause.

Why am I relieved?

Simon realized he had been holding his breath when a sharp pain made him exhale. There had been such a brief pause before her answer, yet it had felt like an eternity to him.

“Then, dearly beloved, I now pronounce the Duke of Sunderley and his beautiful bride, the Duchess of Sunderley, husband and wife.” He took a step back and bowed his head respectfully. “You may now seal your marital agreement with a kiss.”

Simon could hear his heart pounding in his chest as he took a step forward and tilted his head to the side.

Octavia’s eyes were closed, her naturally long lashes brushing her cheeks as she waited for the kiss.

His breathing deepened when he closed his eyes and pressed his lips against hers. The kiss was soft and chaste at first but quickly turned into something more when he felt her respond. Her lips pressed into his before parting ever so slightly.

Simon’s hand moved up her arm and drew her closer until loud applause drew them apart.

The look of surprise that he saw in her eyes mirrored the shock that he felt. Her expression made it evident to him that the kiss had caught her off guard as much as it had for him. There was no denying the fact that the moment they had shared was more than just good.

“I cannot believe we are finally here.” His grandmother interrupted the moment between them with her almost uncontrollable sobs.

Octavia gave the older woman a gentle smile as she came forward to embrace her. “There is no need to cry, Your Grace,” she spoke to the Dowager Duchess in such a gentle tone that Simon felt as if he was suddenly seeing her in a different light.

Has she always been this sweet and gentle?

He swallowed hard and licked over his lips when he suddenly realized that he may have been wrong in the way he thought of her.

“Please, you may call me either Bernice or Grandmamma now. I want you to feel at home in our family. Will you allow me to call you Octavia? You have such a beautiful name.” His grandmother seemed to regain her composure as she smiled at them both.

“If you wish, Grandmamma Bernice.” Octavia gracefully accepted the gesture that had been offered to her.

The Earl and his companion stepped forward and offered their congratulations when it seemed as if Bernice was about to burst into tears once again.

“It is wonderful to make your acquaintance, Your Grace. I am only sorry that it has taken so long. I am the Dowager Countess of Langhall, Matilda Huntington, and Octavia’s godmother.” There was something in her eyes that made the introduction almost sound as if the woman were threatening him. She looked to the side and smiled when the Earl embraced his niece. “She is a lovely bride, do you not think?”

Simon struggled to read the woman’s facial expression as he swallowed.

“She is; I promise you that she will be looked after. You have my word.” He spoke truthfully, realizing that Octavia’s godmother was acting protectively toward someone she loved.

Turning back to him, she smiled. “I know because if she is not loved and cherished, I am the only person who is able to convince her uncle of anything. I will not be pleading your case with him if she ever so much as gives us a hint of her displeasure.”

Her lips were smiling while her eyes glinted with something that could have easily been mistaken for amusement and teasing.

Arthur let out a low whistle and came forward when Matilda moved on to embrace Octavia. “That lady is both fascinatingly scary and wonderful all at the same time. Should you think she would fancy a flirtation with me?”

He nudged Simon in the side when he stood rooted to the spot.

“No, I do not think so. Matilda Huntington is an honest woman. I may have only just met her, but I can assure you that a woman of her caliber is not to be trifled with.” He felt a deep liking for the woman and her need to protect her goddaughter.

“Well, that’s a pity.” Arthur shook his head and walked off behind the others, clapping his hands together as he announced his enthusiasm for the wedding breakfast.

“I see you met my godmother.” Octavia came to his side, averting her eyes when he met her gaze.

Simon’s eyes wandered over her flushed cheeks and down her chest where her neckline dipped.

“She is quite the woman,” he answered gruffly, wanting to keep his thoughts away from the swelling of Octavia’s breasts.

His response elicited a nervous smile from his bride. “She is. What did she say to you?”

Simon cleared his throat and offered Octavia his arm as they began to walk down the aisle. “She all but threatened to behead me if you ever complain to her. I, in turn, promised her that you shall never want for any earthly possessions. And I meant what I said, you need only ask, and anything your heart desires shall be yours.”

Octavia glanced at him out of the corner of her eyes before lifting her head. “Thank you, I shall keep that in mind.”

A veiled expression fell over her face that made it difficult for him to read her thoughts.

Was she happy with that arrangement? Or was she secretly hoping for more? Simon made a mental note to broach the subject with her as soon as they were alone.

He would give anything she desired as his wife.

Yet there was one thing that he would not allow himself to be talked into, and that was siring an heir.