Chapter Ten

"Your Grace?" Adrian asked as Rowan sat on his bed, staring aimlessly out the window. He was undressed from the waist up and barefooted, and his valet waited to help him dress for the wedding, which was to take place in just two hours. But Rowan felt as though his entire body had been replaced by wet sandbags that were trying to move through quicksand.

Rowan lifted his eyes to the valet, whose kind gray eyes were looking at him with concern.

"I know, Adrian," he said with resignation. "I just do not seem to have the will to pry myself away from this bed."

Adrian nodded, sitting beside Rowan, and putting a firm hand on his master's shoulder.

"I understand this is all sudden," he said. "And I will not pretend to understand your motives for changing your mind about taking a bride seemingly overnight. But you are nothing if not prudent and practical, and I have to believe that you chose an apt bride, and that you made this decision for a very good reason. And you must believe that, as well."

Rowan tried to smile at his loyal valet, but all he could muster was what felt, and he was sure looked, like a pained wince.

"I have tried to tell myself that this was the right decision for many years," he said. "I just do not know that I can."

Adrian frowned, no doubt confused by the cryptic words of his master. But he simply gave his head a brief shake, knowing better than to press Rowan.

"Uncertainty is part of any marriage, from what I understand," he said. "The only thing that changes is what one does about that uncertainty. If you feel this is what you must do, then do it with the confidence that something good will come of it." He paused, smiling. "And never discount the notion that it might bring you more happiness than you expect."

Rowan sighed.

"I would like to believe that, Adrian," he said. "But I believe I shall be lucky if it does not bring utter agony." For me, as well as for Serena, he added silently as he recalled the horror and sadness on his bride's face. He hadn't expected her to take the news well. But she looked as though he had broken her heart with his bare hands. The weight of forcing her, as well as himself, into a loveless marriage, now burdened him on top of his previous reservations.

Still, Adrian was right. He had made the decision for a good reason. And despite his own feelings, he needed to follow through with it as he had always planned. He could only hope that Serena would come to see and appreciate his reasoning for it in time and learn to be happy with their shared life together. Even if he could not be.

At last, Adrian rose from his bed, motioning silently for Adrian to follow him to his wardrobe. There had been no time for him to be fitted for a wedding suit. In its stead, he chose a brand-new black suit he had purchased for his next business trip that took him out of the country. He stood with solemn stillness as Adrian helped him dress, holding his breath as the valet fastened the final button on his tailored waistcoat.

He tried to focus on Adrian's words as he looked at himself in the looking glass. But all he could think about was how he was about to marry a woman he barely knew, all because of a secret vow of which he had never spoken to anyone. No one except for Harry, that was, and even he didn't know the full extent of it. It was something that the man he was before his father died would never so much as entertain. But the man who looked back at him in the mirror once he was dressed had no choice. No matter how miserable it would make him, and perhaps Serena, for the rest of his life.

As he descended the stairs a few moments later, he found the dowager waiting for him in the foyer. One would have been forgiven for thinking that she was going to a funeral, rather than a wedding. Her purple dress was dark enough to be mistaken for black in poor lighting, and the matching lace around the neckline and around her waist resembled that on a mourning dress.

"Are you certain about this?" the dowager said as he offered her his arm.

Rowan didn't need to ask what his mother meant. He merely nodded as she put her hand on his bicep, looking forward as they started walking.

"This is what I am doing," he said, refusing to elaborate further.

Rowan noted the tension between them as he silently escorted his mother to the carriage that would take them to the Yardley estate. He knew she was upset about the suddenness of the bride selection and the wedding, and that he wouldn't speak a word about the situation beyond what he'd told her when he returned from finalizing the agreement with the earl. And whereas the palpable strain between his mother and him was oppressive, he was too lost in his regrets about the wedding to try to clear the air.

The dowager didn't try to speak again during the trip. She sat in silence beside her son, her hands clasped tightly in her lap as the rest of their unspoken words hung heavily in the air. Rowan stared out the carriage window. His mind was consumed by the gravity of the commitment he was about to make. He had told his mother it was what he had to do, and he had meant that. In his mind, there was no other alternative. He needed to keep his word, both to the late Lady Caroline and to his father. But that didn't stop the trepidation from filling his mind.

And what about Serena? How was she feeling about the situation? She had looked absolutely horrified when her father had told her of the arrangement. Did she feel the same hesitation and concern that he did? Or had she managed to make peace with the life which was about to be hers? What would he do if she hadn't? Or if she had?

As they arrived at the Yardley residence, Rowan and the dowager were greeted by Louisa and Harry, who were lingering by their carriage. Rowan was relieved at the sight of the two people who had offered him kindness and strength, if somewhat reluctantly, during the days leading up to that moment.

Louisa met Rowan's gaze as Harry greeted the dowager, her eyes a mixture of joy and concern. She embraced her brother, pressing her lips to his ear as she did so.

"I know why you are doing this, Brother," she said. "I love you, and I want what is best for you. I trust that you only have the best interest of everything in mind. And I am here for you either way, no matter what."

Rowan bit his cheek to keep tears at bay. He smiled and nodded at his sister, patting her shoulder gently.

"Thank you," he mouthed.

Harry clapped Rowan's shoulder, giving him a warm smile.

"I love you, Brother," he said. "If this is what you must do, I stand with Louisa in supporting you."

Rowan nodded once more, gesturing toward the house.

"I suppose we should go inside," he said.

The group nodded, solemnly heading inside. All of Serena's family was already seated and waiting in the drawing room of the earl's townhouse, so Rowan made his way to the altar, where the vicar stood preparing himself. Once his mother, sister and brother-in-law were seated, the ceremony began. Rowan stood before the vicar, his heart pounding as he awaited Serena's entrance. The vicar offered him a kind, reassuring smile, one which Rowan could not return. It was supposed to be the happiest of days. But Rowan's mind was far from easy.

When Serena finally entered, Rowan's breath was caught. He felt a mix of relief and awe as she walked between the rows where their family and closest friends sat. He was grateful that the ceremony could finally start, so that it could hurry up and end. But he could not deny that Serena looked radiant in a simple but elegant silk wedding gown. For a brief moment, as he waited for her to join him at the altar, he allowed himself to imagine things a different way, in which their marriage was born of love and mutual understanding, rather than out of obligation and dread.

Rowan heard nothing that the vicar said to begin the ceremony. He bowed his head when he saw the guests do so, understanding that there was a prayer, and he kept his gaze fixed just above Serena's head so as to not give himself the chance to see any defeat or sadness, should she feel any. And as it came time to exchange vows with Serena, Rowan did so with practiced precision, as though reciting a poem given to him by a governess during one of his lessons as a boy.

It belied the turmoil within him. But as Serena recited hers, he searched for any sign that there was some connection between them. Instead, however, he could only see that his delivery of the sacred words wounded her, which made his heart ache. He could not even give her sincerity in the most important words she would ever hear in her life. It was enough to pacify everyone else present. But it was not enough to keep the pain out of his bride's eyes. And as he slipped the ring onto her finger, he noticed that her hand trembled ever so slightly in his. What if what he was doing was not the right thing, after all?

It was too late for such thoughts, however. The vicar pronounced them as man and wife, and it was time for them to sign the wedding registry. Their signatures sealed both his fate and hers, and it was all Rowan could do to face their small group of loved ones as he stood at Serena's side. The weight of it all pressed heavily upon him, and he desperately wished that the day could end. Perhaps, if Serena could find something that would alleviate her sorrow and he could provide it for her, he could lessen some of his guilt and torment. But how could they navigate all the expectations and trials to come when they could barely speak to each other?