Chapter 7

Her Big Day

In other circumstances, Rose might have been able to enjoy the beauty and splendor of Aldington Palace. After all, it was one of the oldest buildings in London and held more rooms than she could even imagine.

The palace was a marvel of sweeping architecture, every detail a reminder of the wealth of years gone by. She had spent many hours reading about the construction of the various great houses, and Aldington Palace had always held a special fascination for her.

Yet, as her carriage pulled up to the great entrance, and she prepared to alight, she felt nothing.

It is as if I am headed to the gallows, not my wedding.

"There are three ballrooms in the Palace. Three!" Jane exclaimed, practically bouncing with excitement. "And we shall get to see all three!"

"I want to see the gardens." Emily's voice was dreamy, and Rose could tell she was imagining strolling through the vast gardens of the palace. "Oh, I can't wait to see all the decorations!"

"Do you think people will like our dresses?" Jane looked worried as she looked down at her new gown. "Perhaps they will think the yellow is too much?"

Her younger sisters' dresses were made of a delicate yellow muslin, hemmed with fine silk. Rose was about to say that she was sure they would be the envy of the ton, but Emily spoke first.

"No, we look lovely." Emily nodded with such confidence that Rose almost laughed. "Besides, Rose's dress is much more yellow than ours. And you wouldn't say she is too much!"

"But she is the bride!" Jane glanced at her sister and then added apologetically, "Though, you do look lovely, Rose."

"Thank you, Jane. So do you. And you, Emily." Rose smiled at her sisters, her chest constricting as she did so.

I feel as though I will break at any moment.

Rose's dress was a darker shade of yellow muslin, with short, puffed sleeves and ornate embroidery in gold. She wore silk gloves for modesty and new shoes. Her hair was ornately coiffed, and she wore a necklace of amber and yellow sapphire. Her mother had wanted her to wear diamonds, but Rose liked the way these gems caught the light.

She ran her hands over the dress, smiling at the embroidery. It was the only thing that felt like her.

I am truly ungrateful. How many other women get married in such splendor?

Yet, if she were being honest with herself, she would gladly trade the opulence for love and affection.

She caught her sisters watching her and asked, "Are you ready?"

Jane and Emily nodded, their eyes wide with anticipation. "We are."

"Good." Rose smiled, wishing she felt as joyful as they did.

Theirs is the excitement of ignorance.

"Perhaps you could check that Cousin Cecily has her flowers?"

"It is so old-fashioned to have a flower girl, dearest Rose." Jane shook her head. "But it is your day, I suppose."

"I will have a flower girl at my wedding." Emily grinned at Rose. "I think it is oh so romantic."

"You are fifteen, what do you know of romance?" Jane laughed. "I think the most romantic thing is the flowers and, of course, the ceremony itself. How lovely that the Duke has secured a special license and such a wonderful place for the celebration!"

"And he bought us these lovely dresses!" Emily beamed.

Rose smiled at her sisters. In truth, she had been surprised that he had paid for the dresses. When the dressmaker had included them on the same bill, Rose had worried that Alexander would be angry. Yet, there had been no complaint or objection.

He is a puzzling man. Generous, at least with his money.

"Girls, please." Lady Cotswalts frowned at her daughters. "Let us check the final preparations, and once we are assured of everything, I will send your father to collect you, dearest Rose."

Without waiting for a reply, the Viscountess ushered her daughters out of the carriage, and Rose watched as she disappeared out of sight. The last few guests were being ushered into the palace, and there was a crowd of people waiting on the steps. At that moment, Rose wished she had not insisted on such a large event.

It will be worth it. After today, no one will doubt my good fortune. Why, there hasn't been a wedding like this for many years!

It was as close to a royal wedding as would be proper. Every detail had been planned to display the Duke's power and wealth. Lady Cotswalts had had a hand in all but two things—Rose's wedding gown and the menu for the wedding banquet.

"Are you ready, my darling girl?" Lord Cotswalts appeared at the carriage door, bringing Rose back to the present, his eyes soft and full of concern. "It is not too late to change your mind, should you wish it."

How I wish that were true.

Rose felt a lump rise in her throat. "My mind is made, Papa, and I would not wish ruin upon our family."

Her father ran a hand through his grey-streaked hair. "You are too selfless, my dearest Rose. Your sisters may not understand your sacrifice, but I do."

"It is no sacrifice to do one's duty." Rose's smile felt brittle. "After all, the Duke has been most generous, and I am sure in time I will find happiness."

"If anyone could find the strength to do so, it would be you." The Viscount squeezed her hand. "You are like your mother. The world may try to break your spirit, but you will not let it."

Rose's eyes filled with tears.

Yet, I feel as though I am breaking.

"Come, there is no sense delaying the inevitable. Let us go." Lord Cotswalts held his arm towards his daughter, helping her down from the carriage.

"Of course, Papa." She smiled brightly, hoping her tears would be mistaken for joyous ones. "Thank you."

Rose took her father's arm and allowed him to lead her through the crowd of people and into the hall reserved for the ceremony. She kept her smile fixed on her face.

I must sell this story to them if I am to take control. They must believe every moment as if it were their own.

As she walked into the hall, she heard gasps of shock. She smiled and saw the Duke standing on the dais, waiting for her. Beside him stood the Duke of Glassley, his bright countenance only serving to highlight the harsh lines of Alexander's face.

Yet, Alexander's expression was soft—or rather as soft as Rose had ever seen it.

Alexander.

She had hoped that using his Christian name would help her feel somewhat less intimidated by him, or that perhaps it would spark some emotion within her. However, all it did was remind her of how little she knew the man.

It feels like more pageantry.

"Oh, look at her. Look at her dress. It must have cost a king's ransom," a voice said, but Rose did not stop to look at the speaker.

"This whole spectacle is a feast for the eyes. She looks simply radiant," another added.

"Indeed. Of course, someone like her would thaw the Beast of Emberly's heart."

"I hope she can tame his temper, too." Laughter followed this.

Rose stopped listening to the whispers.

They know nothing. But at least my plan has worked.

She stood taller, mindful of her steps and doing her best to embody an air of regal authority.

She met the Duke's eyes as she walked towards him. He smiled at her—a quick, short smile, but a smile nonetheless. His smile made the scar on his lip more noticeable, and Rose wondered if it was painful.

The Bishop spoke in his gravelly and surprisingly monotonous voice, "Dearly beloved, we are gathered together in the sight of God, and in the face of this congregation, to join together this man and woman in holy matrimony."

As the Bishop continued speaking, Rose found herself studying the harsh lines of Alexander's face. There was a tightness in his jaw and a distance in his eyes that made her wonder what he was thinking.

Does he feel as I do? Is he angry at me? At God?

Rose wondered what he would do if she asked him. She could not imagine being so bold, or so foolish.

The Bishop's voice brought her back to the present as he turned to Alexander. "Alexander Rokesby, wilt thou have this woman to thy wedded wife, to live together after God's ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony? Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honor, and keep her in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?"

"I will."

As Alexander said the words, Rose felt a pang of sadness.

There will be no love or comfort in my marriage.

And then it was her turn to answer the same question.

"I will." The words felt hollow.

"Who giveth this woman to be married to this man?" the Bishop asked.

Lord Cotswalts stepped forward, placing Rose's hands in the hands of the Bishop. Her heart beat faster. She knew what came next. Alexander took her right hand in his, and she was surprised by the warmth of it. The softness and gentleness of his touch were at odds with the coldness she knew lay within him.

Alexander began to speak, his rich baritone filling the hall. "I, Alexander Rokesby, take thee, Rose Pembleton, to be my wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part, according to God's holy ordinance; and thereto I plight thee my troth."

Rose was struck by the power of his voice. The formality of the words seemed to suit him. Each sentence sounded like the vow that it was, and she found herself convinced of his sincerity.

How can he be such a performer and yet so satisfied to allow a rumor to overcome him?

She was so distracted that she almost forgot her part. Flushing, she began to speak her vows. Her voice shook at first, but it became steadier with each word.

She tried to inject warmth and joy into her words as she said, "For better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part, according to God's holy ordinance; and thereto I plight thee my troth."

"With this ring I thee wed." Alexander paused, allowing a shiver of anticipation to run through the crowd. "With my body, I thee worship, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow: in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost."

He held her gaze as he slid the gold ring on the fourth finger of her left hand.

Her breath caught in her throat. His hands were softer than she had expected, his movements deliberate and sure. There was an unexpected gentleness to him as he released her hand.

It reminded her of their moment in the maze. The moment of laughter they had shared before everything had come crashing down around her.

Yet, now, he is all cold formality. Was that man nothing more than a facade?

Thoughts of the maze vanished as she prepared to kneel before the Bishop. Her gown and train, though beautiful, were difficult to kneel in. Though both Jane and Emily helped rearrange her train, she almost fell.

Alexander caught her, his fingers wrapping steadily but gently around her arms. Heat rose to her cheeks. Alexander said nothing as he carefully supported her, using his height to their advantage as he helped her kneel with him. Their eyes met, and he released her.

"Thank you," she mouthed to him.

He nodded imperceptibly, his expression distant. The Bishop continued the ceremony, apparently unaware of Rose's clumsiness. She was barely aware of the rest of the proceedings.

The day passed in a daze. Faces she half recognized offered their congratulations and wished her every happiness. The banquet was exquisite, yet she found she had little appetite.

Everything seemed far away, as though she were watching the world through a window. As the meal drew to a close, she noticed Alexander stand up. Her chest tightened.

It is time.