Chapter 2

Chapter 2

William stared out the colorful window across from him. The stained glass depicted a deer surrounded by bushes and flowers, which he found odd since he was standing inside a church. He at least expected a cross or a saint with a halo above his head, but every stained window had something to do with wildlife, perhaps because the church was a bit of an animal sanctuary. William found he preferred the wildlife.

Looking away, he subtly observed his in-laws. Lady Danbury and Lady Louise were attractive women, giving him hope for his wife-to-be. William wasn't a shallow man, but since he had never met Lady Charlotte before, first impressions mattered.

One's appearance played a significant part in a first impression, but that meant nothing if the person didn't have any substance to them. His stepmother had not told him much about his young bride other than she would make a good wife and duchess. He believed nineteen was a relatively young age for a woman to get married and was worried his wife would be too immature, especially for a man like him.

William liked things done a certain way, from how his clothing must be pressed to the times he preferred his meals. He also appreciated silence, a well-read mind, and order—chaos was only for fools and weak minds. Unfortunately, living with his half-brother and stepmother had invited some chaos into his life that he wasn't confident he could grow accustomed to.

Henry didn't keep to any hours, often waking up at different times nearly every day. He came and went as he pleased with no thought to his mother, mealtimes, or social arrangements, and expected everyone to make allowances for his behavior.

Catherine, his mother, had failed to raise a son worthy of the Russell name, but it wasn't entirely her fault. William's father had played a significant role in Henry's life, holding his second son to a different standard that ultimately would be the young man's downfall.

Despite her failings at controlling her son, William had to admit that Catherine had done a remarkable job of being a good wife and duchess. The servants sincerely respected her—a good indicator of one's leadership skills. Obedience through fear was easy, but obedience garnered from respect was pure and worthy.

Adjusting his stance slightly, William looked to the double doors where his bride would appear at any moment. He would never admit it to anyone, but he was nervous about this marriage. Fortunately, years in the military had taught him how to mask his emotions and trudge ahead no matter the dangers or horrors about him.

Marriage was a different kind of battlefield, but the losses would be great if he didn't use the correct strategy to secure a smooth future as the Duke of Richmond. He had heard many married men remark that wives could be a man's downfall, a milestone about his neck and his greatest shame.

They spoke about controlling their wives, disciplining them as needed, and never allowing them to think beyond their role as a wife and mother, or one could only expect trouble. These comments did not worry him at the time of hearing them because marriage was far from his mind, but since receiving the letter about his father's death, it suddenly became a very pressing aspect of his duties as a duke.

Returning home the previous year had been a rather considerable upheaval in his life. William had to resign from a career he had loved, bury his father, and take on responsibilities he had not thought about in many years. Oddly, he had resumed them as though he had never left, surprised at how easily it had come to him.

Perhaps those years of his father criticizing and berating him had left a permanent need to excel no matter what he did. The only thing he hadn't expected was his stepmother's insistence about him taking a wife. Part of William had expected her to begrudge his right to the title in favor of her son, but she had been very encouraging and almost forceful about him settling in his duties.

It had probably been three months into his return when she brought up the subject of marriage. She had even compiled a list of the most eligible women, but he had left the decision up to her. He figured that since she was keen to continue his father's legacy, she would choose the right woman to become the next duchess.

Catherine spent the next few months meeting with the women and their families until she decided upon the Huntington family. Oddly, his stepmother had never spoken personally with Lady Charlotte but had observed her once or twice at a social engagement prior to his arrival.

After just two meetings with the young woman's parents, Catherine decided only Lady Charlotte would do. The woman had to be remarkable to impress her, but he was still nervous about meeting her. Perhaps he should have requested at least one meeting, but he was so busy with matters of the estate that marriage was pushed to the back of his mind.

"I should see where my daughter is," said Lady Danbury, drawing him out of his thoughts. "I do not know what is keeping her and her father."

"Perhaps Lord Danbury is having a moment with his daughter," Catherine suggested. "My father was a little emotional before he gave me away on my wedding day. I think most fathers feel somewhat distraught about losing their daughters."

Mr. Lewis, the vicar, nodded in agreement. "Yes, I often see emotional fathers on their daughters' wedding days," he said. "However, having a spinster as a daughter is far less desirable, so one must always do their duty to marry their daughters to good men."

William glanced at the vicar, slightly frowning at the man. Mr. Lewis had no children, but he spoke with great authority on the subject. A parent should love their child regardless of their marital status, appearance, competence, or intelligence. Coming from someone whose very existence had somehow been a disappointment to his father, he took offense when he heard about other parents ill-treating their children.

"I am certain they will appear at any moment," Catherine commented, offering a smile to Lady Danbury. "I would be glad to see where they are if you feel it's necessary. After all, Lady Charlotte will be my daughter-in-law soon."

"That won't be necessary," Lady Danbury insisted, gesturing at the doors. "They have arrived."

William's breath hitched, unable to look at his approaching bride. Everything suddenly became too real, too fast, and he was worried he was making a mistake. He should have met Lady Charlotte first and ensured she was not only suitable for the position of duchess but also as his wife. This was the woman he would have to live with every day, talk to, and have children with, and he hadn't bothered to meet her at least once.

These thoughts continued to play in his head until two petite feet peeking from a pink dress appeared before him. William slowly looked up until he met a pair of sparkling blue eyes staring at him with unconcealed curiosity. Catherine had not exaggerated—Lady Charlotte was quite simply beautiful.

From the crown of pale gold locks upon her head to her lush cupid's bow lips, she was perfect. Her round cheeks made her look younger than nineteen, which bothered him a little. William didn't like the practice of child brides and detested parents who allowed these marriages.

At sixteen, he had been far from ready to get married to anyone and couldn't imagine a girl being forced into marriage at the same age. Unfortunately, it happened far too often to ignore. William hoped Lady Charlotte was indeed nineteen and that her family would not hide her actual age.

"Good day, Your Grace," Lady Charlotte whispered, snapping him to attention.

He met her eyes, surprised by the confidence within them. He expected her to be nervous or shy, but she was neither. He admired that.

"Good day, my lady," he returned, somewhat more stiffly than he intended.

She frowned slightly in return before turning her attention to the vicar. William hoped he hadn't offended her before they had even begun their marriage. He could have been friendlier. Turning to the vicar, he kept darting subtle glances at his bride.

Her frown had disappeared, and she was smiling. Perhaps he had imagined her initial reaction, or she simply didn't dwell on matters. William had been told that women liked to hold grudges and lord it over their husbands. He hoped Lady Charlotte was different.

The ceremony was as long-winded as William expected. Also, since it was a tiny gathering of just Catherine, Henry, Lady Charlotte's parents, and sister, they could leave the church immediately and head to his estate for the wedding breakfast.

"Shall we?" he said, holding his arm out to his wife.

It seemed strange that a ceremony, a few vows, and a piece of paper now made them forever tied to each other. They were strangers, but they now had a bond recognized by the church.

"Thank you, Your Grace," his wife replied, placing her small, pale hand upon his arm.

She leaned toward him, her scent tickling his senses. William knew little about perfume, but whatever she used was rather delicious. It was sweet, warm, earthy, and fresh all at once, drawing him in and making him take a deeper whiff before he even knew what he was doing. His wife looked up, her eyes widening at their sudden close proximity. William immediately pulled back, coughing slightly to hide his embarrassment.

"Is something the matter, Your Grace?" she asked.

"No," he replied abruptly. "And you should call me William. You are now my wife."

She nodded. "Very well. And you should call me Charlotte. It is very nice to meet you." She chuckled lightly. "It seems odd saying that after our wedding ceremony."

William couldn't agree more. "Yes, it is a pleasure to meet you," he replied.

An awkward silence ensued while their families chatted behind them. Fortunately, they arrived at their waiting carriage, giving him something to do other than walking silently beside her.

"Allow me to help you inside," he said, sliding her hand into his palm.

"Thank you," she said, gripping his hand tightly and climbing into the carriage.

Having made it through the ceremony, now he needed to endure a carriage ride with a woman he didn't know. Frankly, he would take a battle at the front lines over these unchartered waters in a heartbeat.