Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

“ Y ou look beautiful,” Charlotte crooned. She was standing right behind Hannah, taking her in for a final time before the ceremony started.

“Agreed,” Beatrice said. “Breathtaking.”

Standing next to each other, the two sisters looked on the verge of tears. Never had Hannah seen them both so happy—certainly not on their own wedding days. Although she supposed there had been a good reason for that.

It was Hannah’s wedding day, and as expected, it was as confusing as it was unsettling.

Confusing because despite two weeks of preparation and mental readiness for the day that would come to define the rest of her life, Hannah felt that she knew her husband as well as she had known him the first day she met him. That was to say, not at all. It was a stranger whom she was set to marry, and a man who had been at pains to keep his distance, as if the idea of getting to know her frightened him.

And unsettling because with two weeks to consider how she felt about this marriage, and what she wanted from it, she had decided that a marriage of convenience to a man who wanted to be little more than friends with her wasn’t at all appealing.

This marriage was happening whether she wanted it or not, so why not at least try for something more than what he had offered her? Why commit herself to a life of loneliness when, from what she could see, there was no good reason that her pairing with the Duke would not work?

Two weeks ago, when they had spoken in the garden, he had agreed to at least be friendly with her, as if that was an olive branch that she should have been grateful to accept. And yet, in the two weeks that had followed, she had hardly even seen the man. He had avoided her purposefully, but there was little she could do about it.

Oh, and she knew why that was too. The real reason. Of that, she had no doubt.

Today, all that would change. Due to marry any minute now, he would have no choice but to see her, speak with her, be with her. Surely, even he was aware of such a thing?

And it was after this realization that a plan took shape in Hannah’s mind.

“You do not think it is too much?” Hannah asked, keeping her focus on her reflection in the full-length mirror. “Mother was not at all pleased with how much skin is showing.”

Beatrice blew through her lips. “Mother is far too prim.”

“Father, too,” Hannah pointed out.

“It is your wedding day,” Charlotte said as she put her hands on her younger sister’s shoulders and looked at her in the mirror. Eyes glistening with unshed tears, she could not have looked more proud. “And if this is the dress you wish to wear…” She hesitated for a moment, looking a little concerned. “Well, there is little they can do.”

“It is,” Hannah affirmed with a firm nod and a smirk. “I just hope His Grace likes it.”

Beatrice snorted. “Little chance that he will not.”

The three sisters had sequestered themselves in an antechamber in the church as they waited for the ceremony to start. A typical procedure, giving the bride a final chance to check her dress and makeup so that all was as it should be. And, most importantly, a final chance to swallow down any last-minute nerves.

Those nerves were starting to rise within Hannah. This plan of hers had only been thought up a few days ago—a real risk, she thought, but a necessary one. The Duke wished to avoid her? He wished to just be friends? Somehow, she doubted the strength of his resolve very much.

It was their conversation in the garden that had made her understand better what she needed to do. And also how she felt about the Duke. Their near kiss… the tension that had lingered between them… that desire that radiated from him as he held her and very nearly pressed his lips to her own…

He thought he had the self-control necessary to never touch her? Ha! They would see about that.

“Perhaps it would not be the worst idea to cover yourself a little…” Charlotte bit her lip as she glanced at Hannah’s plunging neckline. “A shawl of some kind? Just to cover?—”

“Oh, do not listen to her,” Beatrice scoffed, swatting her sister away. “I think it looks alluring.”

Charlotte clicked her tongue. “Is alluring what one wishes for on their wedding day?”

“Do not forget, the wedding day is followed by the wedding night,” Beatrice grinned. “So, it cannot hurt.”

“We are in a church!” Charlotte hissed.

“They are not going to fornicate on the floor,” Beatrice sighed. “This is simply a taste for the Duke. Right, Sister?” She winked at Hannah. “After how he has been behaving these last few weeks, my thinking is that he will need it.”

“I still think it would not kill you to cover yourself a little,” Charlotte muttered.

The dress in question was tactical… and scandalous, to say the least. Sleeveless. Backless. Strapless. It was held up by what seemed a pure force of will alone, the neckline sitting just above Hannah’s breasts, which were pushed up by the very tight waistline—a tightness that ran down her backside, past her thighs, making the dress appear to strangle her entire body.

Hannah had always been curvy, and today she was putting those curves to good use. She still did not know how she felt about the Duke. Did she like him as a man? Did she enjoy his company as a friend? What she did know for a fact was that she found him incredibly attractive, and she suspected he felt the same about her.

So, this dress was chosen with a purpose. Today, when she and the Duke were pronounced husband and wife, he would kiss her—something he swore he would not do. Oh sure, he did not have to do it. But Hannah wondered how he would manage that once he saw her in this dress.

A devilish plan… and she could not help but grin as she looked at herself in the mirror one last time. Today was the first day of the rest of her life, so best to get it off to a good start.

A knock at the door had her and her three sisters turning around.

“It’s time, dear.” Her mother poked her head around the door, pursing her lips when she saw the dress. “Are you…” She exhaled as if to calm herself. “Ready?”

“As ready as I will ever be.”

“We will see you out there.” Charlotte kissed Hannah on the cheek. “Good luck.”

“Not that you need it,” Beatrice offered with a wink as she hurried to join her sister.

“Father…” Hannah trailed off.

“Waiting for you,” her mother said, again looking at the dress. “Hannah, dear, I know that you had your heart set on?—”

“It is done, Mother,” Hannah cut her off. “Please remember how easy I have made these past two weeks for you. This is what I want.”

Lady Ramsbury sighed and nodded in understanding. “Well, come on then. Let us get you married.”

A smile next as she held out her hand for Hannah to take, pride flickering in her eyes because at the end of the day, her daughter was getting married to a duke. What more could a mother wish for?

Lord Ramsbury was waiting for Hannah just beyond the door. Like her mother, he gave her dress a disapproving look, only he chose to say nothing. Forcing a smile, he offered her his arm, and Hannah, relieved that he had chosen to drop the matter, took it.

It was a small ceremony, made even smaller, as Teresa had decided not to attend… as had Selina. Less than a dozen guests populated the nave, most of them from Hannah’s side of the family while the rest, she guessed, were the Duke’s family and friends. But she didn’t take much notice of them as she reached the end of the aisle, for all her attention was focused on her husband-to-be.

He stood at the altar beside a man she did not recognize—his younger brother was her guess. They were chatting quietly until his brother spotted her and nudged him to indicate her arrival.

The Duke straightened up before looking at her. As soon as his eyes landed on her, his mouth dropped open.

Hannah beamed as she started walking down the aisle, relishing the way he gaped at her. Oh, she could see his efforts to look away and control himself. She could tell that he wanted very much not to gawk and stare. But the closer she came to him, the more obvious it became that for this moment at least, he was completely in her thrall.

From there, the ceremony got underway in a typical manner. The minister began by welcoming them all and then proceeded to read from the Book of Common Prayer. Next, the minister asked Hannah and then the Duke if they would accept one another as man and wife, to which they both said those fateful words ‘I do.’

Following from there, the minister asked who it was that would be giving Hannah away, at which point her father stepped forward and did as instructed. The ring was presented next, at which point Hannah held out her hand for the Duke to take. He hesitated, eyeing her hand as if they were a snake that might bite him. But he relented and took it gently, holding it by the fingertips; her hand shook at his touch. She tried her best to meet his gaze but he refused to give it, looking down at his feet in a way that was very purposeful as he slipped the ring on her finger.

But he could not look away from her forever, and Hannah listened to the minister, waiting for the final words that would seal this marriage once and for all.

Finally, the minister reached the end of the sermon, that which made the ceremony official. “Foreasmuch as the now adjoined couple have consented together to holy wedlock...”

Hannah tried to meet her husband’s eyes still as the minister continued, but the Duke remained stubborn, continuing to look down at his feet.

“... I pronounce that they be man and wife together. In the Name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost. Amen.” And so, it was done.

It was as if the entire church held a collective breath. Or perhaps that was just Hannah. She could hear her heart thumping as she waited for His Grace to act. Slowly, his eyes moved from his feet and over her body. Slowly, they came to meet her eyes. And slowly, he lifted his head fully and looked right into them, steadying himself, exerting all the control he could muster as he smiled politely.

And Hannah took her chance.

Still holding his hands, she licked her lips as she leaned forward, gazing into his eyes, willing him to do what he had promised he would not.

A moment of hesitation. She could literally see the conflict raging on his face. And for a brief moment, Hannah worried that all of this would be for nought and her husband would deny her.

“Oh, give her a kiss, brother!” His Grace’s brother chuckled from behind, to which those in the audience chuckled and cheered along.

His Grace grimaced but she could also see a sort of relief on his face. Eyes flicking down to her bare neck, over her breasts, that same lust-filled look took his visage that she had come to recognize and he nodded to himself, smiled lightly and pressed his lips together.

Hannah met his kiss. She stepped forward as she did so, wanting her body close to he who was now her husband. And what started as a simple peck – for clearly that was what His Grace wanted – very soon transformed into something that even she had not expected.

They had nearly kissed twice already.

Both times had been awkward and unexpected. One she had been trying to trick him, the other had come about due to an argument and again an effort to try and almost force the other to admit to something. Near kisses that had lingered on Hannah’s mind as she had wondered time and time again what it might feel like should their lips finally meet.

Even in her two weeks of imagining and wanting, she had not in her wildest dreams thought it would feel like this.

She lost herself in that kiss. As his skin finally caressed her own, as he melted into her in a way that she hadn’t expected, as his lips finally parted and he breathed her in while cupping her face with his hands, for a moment there she forgot that she was in a church in front of her entire family, very nearly grabbing His Grace by the shirt and holding him there.

They kissed for a second, but it felt like an age. Her chest tightening. Her heart was racing. Her mind turned blank. Her tongue was just starting to find its way inside his mouth when?—

The Duke pulled away, and the congregation erupted in applause.

Hannah, only just now realizing how inappropriate their kiss was, blushed furiously and cast a glance at her husband, who too was doing everything he could not to look at her. He smiled for the small crowd and accepted their plaudits, but he would not look at her. No need to say why.

Her goal today was to prove to the Duke that his determination not to touch her was a fool’s errand, and if she had to evaluate her success, she would say she was triumphant. There was a problem now, however.

She wanted him more than she had realized. That kiss… her lips still tingled from it, and if her plan was not as successful as she thought and somehow the Duke stayed strong, she did not know how long she could survive without another kiss.

Tonight was their wedding night, and it was as her parents approached her, crying and cheering and looking joyful, that she decided that she would not see sleep tonight until she proved that this kiss was not a flash-in-the-pan type of thing.

The Duke would take her tonight, or she would embarrass herself trying.