She blushed profusely. "It is not that I have no friends, it is that- Oh drat this! You're doing it to me again." She stalked off to a bench in the rose garden, where she flung herself down and pouted, looking for all the world like a small child who had been thwarted or chastised in some way.
He sat down beside her and dared to ask, "What have I done, do you think?"
"You always manage to make me feel, well, small. Inferior."
"That isn't my intention," he reassured her in a soft tone. "It was merely an observation, poorly expressed, perhaps-"
"Very well, it's true! I admit it!" she exclaimed, throwing up her hands in exasperation. "I am in the wrong, and it's all my own fault. I've behaved badly, foolishly. I have triumphed over my friends, flaunted my number of beaux, my fortune, my education, and cut them because I was so prideful. I deserve to be friendless after the spiteful way I've behaved.
"And now I've done the same with your friends. Envied them, competed with them because I wanted to be the center of attention. Because, well, because I wanted everyone to hang on my least little utterance as if I were some sort of Oracle. I'm spoiled and foolish, and have hurt everyone, including myself. There, does that satisfy you?"
Hot tears of mortification spilled down her cheeks as she made her confession, and she rose from the bench and turned her back to him so he would not see her cry.
But see he did, and smiled. He felt sorry for the poor child, but relieved too. Now that she had admitted her faults, she could begin to correct them, and without him seeming unduly harsh and untender toward his young wife.
He followed her and rubbed her back, which trembled under her gulping sobs, and turned her gently to face him. "No, dearest, I take no delight in your predicament. What sort of husband would I be if I triumphed over your woes? I'm truly sorry things are thus with you, but they are easily remedied. My friends would be delighted to stand up with you, and my sister as well if you like. Since she is unmarried and so young, I would suggest her in the role of bridesmaid or flower girl.
"I know it is little enough, but I would like to do more if you will allow me. I would be pleased if you would allow me to invite all the young ladies of the neighborhood to our house as soon as we are married. If you can resist the temptation to crow over your good fortune in making such a fine match, I think we can mend fences. I would offer to do it tomorrow, but it might appear as if you were showing off. Far better to do it at a decent interval after the ceremony."
She nodded, and accepted the pristine white linen handkerchief he offered to wipe away her tears. "Thank you. I am sure it's more than I deserve."
"Not at all." He could not resist pointing out teasingly, "You must be feeling ill if you did not take umbrage at my words regarding a fine match."
She gave him a tremulous smile. "I'm not a complete simpleton, Your Grace. I'm the first girl in my set to be wed, and to a Duke, no less. And you are not an unattractive man."
"Why thank you. And the name is Thomas, remember?"
"Very well, Thomas." She offered a tremulous smile. "You are young, and certainly uncommonly intelligent and brave."
"What would make you draw the latter conclusion?" he asked, frowning.
"Why, you fought against Bonaparte, for the sake of your principles."
He shrugged. "Any fool can fight. It's not brave. It's the last recourse when intelligence and diplomacy fail."
She stared up and him, and replied, "Still, it must have been hard. A man of your station would not normally choose to fight in the Army, to put himself in harm's way like that."
"I dare say not," he said with a touch of impatience. "In the olden days they would have sent one of their hapless tenants to go off and get killed in his place."
Her sapphire eyes lifted to examine him with renewed interest. "You really are a Radical, aren't you!"
He stroked the back of her hands to keep them warm as the sharp February wind began to pick up. "It is merely a label, but it will suffice. I despise injustice in any form, and work to secure a better world for my children whenever I can."
The world 'children' was like a shower of cold water. "And how many side-slips have you, pray?" she asked stiffly.
He looked straight into her eyes. "None. But I look forward to begetting a vast horde of children with you in the fullness of time, my dear."
She colored and looked away from his piercing emerald stare. "Really, you are the most forthright man."
"I adore children, Charlotte. I hope you do too. Would you rather I lied to you?"
She tried to avoid looking at him, but he lifted her chin coaxingly. Sapphire mingled with emerald.
"Would you?" he demanded, his lips moving closer to hers, so that she longed for him to kiss her once again.
She fought the attraction, and tried to concentrate on the matter at hand. It was too important to allow herself to be distracted by his charms, considerable though they were.
"Er, no, not in matters such as these. Though perhaps a more polite turn of phrase might help?"
He smiled, showing even white teeth. "I shall try my best. But I see you are still looking at me doubtfully. I give you my word I shall not disgrace you on our wedding day, or discomfit you in front of any of your friends. Private matters between husband and wife are just that, private. I hope you will remember that as well."
"Yes, of course." She squared her shoulders and leaned away from his sensual mouth. "No, I was looking at you doubtfully because I find it hard to imagine that you have not had any amorous liaisons which could have resulted in children. Forgive me for doubting your word, but how can you be so sure?"
He rose from the bench and took her hand in his own. He turned back toward the warmth of the house. He declared in a serious tone, "I own that my friends and I were known as the Rakehells, but that is not to say that we did not pay heed to the consequences of our actions. My father always taught me to treat others as I would like to be treated myself. Most men would not wish their daughters or sisters to be despoiled. Why would they permit themselves to commit acts upon others that they would be appalled to have committed upon one of their own?"
She stared up at him in astonishment. "A good point, though not one that many of the men of my acquaintance would subscribe to."
He replied stiffly, "We shall have to improve your acquaintance, then."
She nodded.
"Therefore, I have never permitted myself to get carried away with my roistering, not even in the Army, where the opportunity to love a woman and then leave her was ample. There are discreet, childless widows one can visit, who are lonely and like company. But what raises us above beasts is our ability to resist the temptations of the flesh. The physical act is an outlet, a release, no more, where there is no regard or esteem."
She had shrunk away from him when he had spoken of his past, but now turned to face him squarely once more. "Is this your way of trying to tell me that I need have no fear of you once we are wed? That you are prepared to be patient with me?"
"You shall have all the time you need. As Dr. Johnson said, 'Marriage had many pains, but celibacy no pleasures.' The delights of the marriage bed are considerable, with the right person, of course."
"But there's the rub! You're the wrong person!" She withdrew her hand from his, and began to walk away.
He grasped her arm to halt her sudden flight. "Then you must be inordinately fond of carriage rides."
She covered her face with her hands and groaned. "Oh, this is too much."
"You didn't struggle or pull away either of the times that I kissed you. You don't shrink away from me when I touch you, my dear." He illustrated his point now by stroking down the long line of her back to the rise of her buttocks. "I shall take that as a good sign that you do not find me repulsive. If you want me, you know where I shall be. Ever at your side as your devoted husband. But it will be your choice, Charlotte. I will not take by force that which is in fact my right by law. It is an antiquated law anyway, as are many others
in this country, and ought to be changed."
He straightened and released her. "But that is a subject for another time. Now we must get back. It is too cold out here for you, and I must see to my guests. There is still so much to do, and we're running out of time. Shall I ask Sarah and Vanessa to help you on Saturday, or not?"
She nodded. "Yes, please. And Elizabeth as flower girl too, just as you've suggested. And thank you. I'm sure this is more than I deserve."
"Not at all. Now, go back in the house, and I shall see you at five." He bent to kiss her on the brow, a peck, no more, and strode toward the carriage.
She began to return to the house pensively, almost changing her mind and going with him. But she needed time to be alone, to think, and to compose herself before seeing his friends again.
She turned to look after him, and started. "Thomas, your carriage rug!"
He waved it away airily, and smiled. "Go back in the house, darling, before you freeze. I shall see you later."
The force of his handsome smile made her grin back. Really, he was the most extraordinary chap, so fearsome in some ways, so kind in others. And those kisses... And his physique...
She shook her head. Woolgathering about Thomas's attractive attributes was not going to get her ready for the evening's activities. She wanted to dress especially well, so that he would have no call to feel embarrassed by her again. So she would not feel at such a disadvantage...
Realising the way her thoughts were centering on the Duke once more, she rebelled anew. Drat it, she would dress to please herself! She didn't give a fig what Thomas and his friends thought of her. If they didn't like it, that was simply too bad.
All the same, as she headed inside the house, she wondered what her future husband's favorite color was.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Charlotte was ready for her wedding rehearsal supper shortly before five, dressed in a simple white gown with a fine sheer lace white overgown, and midnight blue sash and matching slippers.
She had finer frocks, but had decided it was silly to try to outdo Sarah and Vanessa. They were no threat to her happiness. She would only make herself miserable by trying to compete with them, and thus render Thomas even more despairing of her common sense. She would show him that she could be sensible, and join in intelligent conversations without embarrassing herself or him. That she could be a gracious hostess, a woman who would grace his home, not make it into a battlefield.
She dressed her jet-black hair simply, with matching ribbons the same color as the blue sash of her gown. With a pair of simple sapphire ear bobs, choker and bracelets, she felt more than ready.
Making her way downstairs to the hall, she put on her black velvet evening cloak, and checked her reticule to make sure she had all she needed. Then she went in search of her father. She was informed by their steward that something had come up, and he would be along later with Samuel and James in their own conveyance.
Thomas's large coach bearing his family crest, pulled by a different team of finely matched black geldings, arrived in front of her home promptly at the stroke of five. She was surprised to see the vicar and his sister in the carriage. They greeted her warmly.
"I thought we would just go over the order of service, and which hymns and music you would like as we traveled back together," Jonathan Deveril explained upon seeing her astonished expression, as he swung open the door for her. "Is your father not coming?"
"In our carriage, with my cousins, in a little while. Some estate business which needs to be dealt with has delayed them," she replied, taking his hand to step up into the comfortable velvet lined interior.
"Very well, we shall look forward to seeing them later."
The vicar helped her get settled in her seat under the carriage rug Thomas had loaned her that afternoon, with a footwarmer tucked beneath her. Then he began to explain the sheaf of papers he offered her.
"This is the order of service. The guests will be seated, and we will have music playing whilst this takes place. I have Thomas's list of suggestions. He wrote down The Adagio from the 'Sonata in E-Flat,' by Mozart, The Air from Handel's 'Water Music,' Air on the G String, from Bach's 'Orchestral Suite Number Three,' or the Allegro, from Bach's 'Brandenburg Concerto Number Four in G.' Which would you like?"
She was impressed with his choices, and pleased too. It showed he was fond of music, and had excellent taste. Had she and Herbert ever discussed music...
"I think the first two would be fine. It will give everyone time to get settled," she said, trying to put the strangely disturbing thought to one side.
"Good point." Jonathan put tick marks next to her choices. "Once the ushers have everyone seated, they will give the signal. Normally the groom's parents and the bride's mother would make their entrance, but in this case it will just be your cousins and their mother and father, as your own father is giving you away and will come in with you. Once they are seated, Thomas will enter with his groomsman, Clifford, and then I will come in. If you have a flower girl, then she would enter next."
She nodded. "I had thought to ask Elizabeth, but have not yet had time." She wondered if Herbert's parents were still alive, and thought with a pang of all Thomas must have suffered, inheriting at such a young age...
"I will welcome you as the bride, and your processional music shall begin. Again, we have a few good choices here. They are 'The Trumpet Tune,' by Purcell, the 'Canon in D,' by Pachelbel, or one of the 'Heroic Marches" by Telemann."
"The Purcell, please," she replied, delighted one again by the Duke's exquisite taste.
Jonathan noted it down in his careful manner. "Fine. As the music plays, you will come in with your father, and walk down the aisle toward us. Thomas will meet you at the altar, and I will make my opening remarks. Next will come our first hymn. I have a whole list. We can decide on those later depending upon what we choose for the rest of the ceremony."
"That sounds like a good idea," she agreed readily.
"Then we will have the first reading. I would suggest Genesis, Chapter 1, verses 26 to 28, 'The Lord God took the man and put him in the Garden of Eden to till it and keep it.' Then first Corinthians, Chapter 13, Verses 1 to 13, 'If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal,' and Matthew, Chapter 7, verses 21 to 29, 'Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.' It may not be entirely appropriate, but it suits Thomas's Radical politics."
She looked at the vicar in surprise. "Is that what Thomas asked for?"
"No, but I thought-"
"What did he suggest?" she asked curiously.
He tugged at his neck cloth almost nervously. "Er, Colossians, Chapter 3, Verses 12 to 17, 'Put on then, as God's chosen ones, holy and beloved, compassion, kindness, lowliness, meekness, and patience...' and First John, Chapter 4, verses 7 to 16, 'Beloved, let us love one another; for love is of God, and he who loves is born of God and knows God.'"
Again, the choices surprised Charlotte, but she was not about to gainsay the Duke. In fact, she grudgingly had to admit that she could not have chosen better herself. She wondered what Herbert would have chosen, and then reflected that in all the time he had been wooing her, she had never once seen him at church, though she went punctiliously every Sunday, to both the morning service, and Evensong. "I think I would like those too," she replied after a moment.
"He doesn't have to get everything all his own way all the time, you know. It will make him quite spoilt," Jonathan teased, his gray eyes sparkling.
"No, that's true, but in this case I agree with him," she said in all sincerity. "I do like the Corinthians verses he has chosen too, especially where it says, 'Love is patient and kind; love is not jealous or boastful; it is not arrogant or rude. Love does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrong, but rejoices in the right. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends.' So I think his choices are good ones. We
can leave aside his politics for one day."
Jonathan shook his head as he put a tick by her choices. "I never took you two for such dyed in the wool romantics, but I'm only too delighted to help. Tell you what, you can have Corinthians as well. I shall juggle them. Anyway, in between the three readings, we shall have two musical interludes, so we need to decide on them also."
She squinted in the light of the carriage lantern, and began to make more sense of the Duke's fine if flamboyant penmanship. "I see here he has 'Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring' and 'Sheep May Safely Graze,' so we shall have those."
He beamed his approval. "Really, you are a most amenable young lady."
Sarah chimed in them. "They are two of my favorites as well, I must admit."
"Good, then the musicians from your congregation will have no trouble playing with them," Charlotte said, trying to keep up the lively banter, though it was difficult given her unease at the whole situation.
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