Ice Cold Duke (Frigid Dukes #2)

Chapter 3

Chapter Three

“ S top fidgeting,” Lady Hillsborough said, glaring down at her daughter where the two of them waited in the entrance hall of the chapel.

“I’m not fidgeting,” Emery snapped back. “I’m standing as still as possible.”

“You’re fidgeting as if you’re nervous,” her mother lectured. “But there’s nothing to be nervous about! Everything is perfect.”

About that, she wasn’t wrong. Inside the chapel, the organ had already begun to play, and the few guests that had been invited had taken their seats. Out in the hall, Emery was wearing the beautiful gown of silk and chiffon that her parents had splurged on-- “As if your dowry isn’t enough of an expense!” her father had huffed--her hair was done up into a tight, elaborate coiffure she didn’t think suited her at all, her cheeks and eyes were made up with rouge and kohl, and she was trying very hard to stand as still as possible in order not to ruin everything by tripping over her gown and landing flat on her face.

Although maybe that would lead to them calling the whole thing off , she thought hopefully, desperately. But no. The Earl and Countess of Hillsborough wouldn’t call off this wedding even if the sky descended upon them. This was the moment they’d dreamed of for years, and nothing was going to stop it.

Nothing, except…

Emery’s eyes scanned the hall, looking for Georgina. After last night’s disaster, Emery could only hope that her best friend had come through for her in her last, desperate attempt to stop this wedding.

If she hadn’t, then Emery didn’t know what she was going to do. The only thing giving her any sort of hope was that her bridegroom was late. He was supposed to have arrived at the chapel ten minutes previously, but so far, he hadn’t yet shown up. His brother was also nowhere to be seen, so it was possible Henry was delayed simply because his older brother was giving him a piece of mind about how “reckless, foolish, and selfish” Emery was.

Perhaps he is even warning him off marrying me…

“Stop fidgeting!” her mother exclaimed again, and Emery grew still again, sighing warily. “There’s no reason to be nervous,” her mother continued. “Lord Henry will be here any moment. There must be some sort of problem with his wardrobe, or perhaps he’s still a little under the weather from the brandy last night. You know how men sometimes imbibe too much before a big event.”

“Women, too,” Emery muttered to herself, although too quietly for her mother to hear.

At that moment, Georgina appeared in the doorway of the chapel, and Emery’s heart leapt. She excused herself from her mother’s side and hurried over to her friend.

“Well?” she demanded, taking Georgina’s hand in her own and peering into her eyes. “Did you give him the letter?”

“Yes, I hand-delivered it to him just as his valet was tying his cravat. I must say, they were both shocked to see a woman enter his bedchamber, unchaperoned. It’s lucky there are not many people around to gossip. But he looked very well, you know, even if he was a touch nervous, very handsome in his wedding attire.”

“And??” Emery didn’t have time to hear about Henry’s wedding attire or how scandalous it was that Georgina had entered his bedroom alone. “What did he think of the letter?”

“He seemed conflicted,” Georgina said, shaking her head. “As I told you he would be. He read it in front of me--I told him you wouldn’t be satisfied unless you knew he’d read it--and then he sent his valet away and sat with his head in his hands for a minute, saying nothing.”

“Didn’t you ask him what he thought?” Emery asked impatiently.

“Of course, Em, but I was also trying to think about his feelings as well.” She pursed her lips and folded her arms over her chest. “You forget, he is my friend too.”

“But not as much, surely,” Emery argued. “You and him only became friends through me in the last few years. You and I have been best friends for much longer.”

“Still, I care about Lord Henry’s feelings. He is a good man. And he doesn’t deserve to get a letter from his bride on the day of their wedding asking him to call it off.”

“He wants this wedding as little as I do,” Emery insisted. “Believe me, Georgie, I’m doing him a favor!”

“It didn’t seem that way, from what I saw.”

Emery grit her teeth. She didn’t know what to say. As much as she wanted to be understanding of Henry’s feelings, who really was a dear friend of hers, there wasn’t really time. And while Henry might be hurt or confused, this marriage was not nearly as dire for him as it was for her. As an earl and the younger brother of a duke, he would always have power and freedom. Meanwhile once she married him, she would be his legal property, with no ability to control her own life. She would go from being controlled by her parents to being controlled by a man that, while a friend, she did not love.

It was not the same thing, and she couldn’t let it happen.

“At least he didn’t get a letter from me saying I’d run away this morning,” Emery pointed out. “I wanted to, you know, but my mother was fussing over me all morning and I couldn’t get away.”

“Upon my word, Emery, you really have lost your mind completely!” Georgina exclaimed. “Run away? To where?”

Emery opened her mouth to respond--although she wasn’t sure what exactly she was going to say--but she never got the chance. At that moment, the doors to the chapel flew open and the Duke of Dredford swept inside, a stormy and resolute look on his face.

At once, Emery’s pulse began to quicken. The Duke of Dredford had long been the mysterious, somewhat frightening older brother of her close friend and confidant, and although she’d known him for years, she had never really looked at him as she did now.

He was tall. Very tall. With broad shoulders and long, dark hair that fell rakishly in front of his pale, chiseled face, making him look more like a character out of a romantic novel than a flesh and blood Duke. He was dressed today in black velvet that made his pale skin glow, and the power and authority that he brought with him into the room was enough to make her stomach lurch with nerves.

His eyes found hers at once. She wanted to try and meet his gaze--to confidently and without apology stare back at him--but she couldn’t. His gaze was too intense and accusatory, and the shame of what she had done last night, how she had seen him with his shirt open, made her cheeks burn, and she looked down.

“He looks furious at you,” Georgina whispered in her ear.

“He has every right to be,” she muttered back. “Oh, what a disaster! I swear, I will never drink wine again.”

“You might have to if you are to spend next Season looking for a husband, which it seems as if you might have to, considering how angry the Duke looks right now.”

Emery’s heart leapt. She had barely allowed herself to feel the faintest flicker of hope when the Duke reached her. She looked up, only to feel her throat go dry. The Duke was standing right in front of her, the most outraged look on his face that she had ever seen.

“Well, I hope you’re proud of yourself,” he muttered, for just her and Georgina to hear. Then he looked away and, raising his voice, said to the room at large, “My brother will not be marring Lady Emery today.”

There was a heartbeat--maybe two--of shocked silence, then Lady Hillsborough let out a terrible, wrenching scream.

“Your Grace, say it is not so!” She cried, swaying on the spot as if she might faint. “Your brother cannot have--it is a disgrace! How could he dishonor my daughter like that?”

At the sound of the Countess’s scream, the guests inside the chapel had all turned around, and now Lord Hillsborough was hurrying back up the aisle, a worried expression on his face. He burst out into the chapel foyer and stared around. “What is happening?” he demanded.

“Lord Henry--he’s run away!” His wife moaned, and he went to her at once, staring at her in bewilderment as she continued to sway with faintness.

“How is that possible?” Lord Hillsborough shouted, turning angrily to the Duke. “There must be some mistake.”

“There is no mistake.” The Duke held up a piece of paper. “He left a note. He has run away and begs us all to forgive him, but he cannot go through with this marriage which, he says, would be like marrying his own sister.”

Emery felt it then: a great, deep rush of relief and joy. As shocked and angry as her parents looked, she couldn’t help but smile weakly and sag against Georgina for support, who wrapped her arms protectively around her. It’s over! He agreed with my letter, and he’s called off the wedding. I’m free. I will finally attend a season, and take my life in my own two hands!

Her parents, meanwhile, had begun to yell at the Duke. Yet to her it sounded oddly like the ballroom music she so desperately dreamed of.

“You cannot allow this!” Her father was shouting, his face red with indignation. “You promised us that this was a sure thing! We would not have kept our daughter from participating in the London Seasons if we had not trusted your word. But we kept her away from it, so as not to distract her from her duty, and even waited until Lord Henry had gone on his Grand Tour--until he said he was ready. Meanwhile our daughter has only grown older, and now it is too late! She is too old to find another husband! You have ruined her, Your Grace! You and your worthless brother!”

Emery wasn’t sure she agreed with this, nor with her parents' reasons for keeping her from the Seasons. It’s because you were stingy, not because you didn’t want to ‘distract me’ from my ‘duty.’

Her father glared up at the Duke, seemingly undaunted by the dark, furious look on his face. “I thought that the word of the Duke of Dredford meant something,” he snarled. “But I see I was mistaken.”

This argument, it seemed, had the intended effect on the Duke. His jaw flexed, and a strange look passed over his face, as if he were steeling himself for something.

“Please, do not worry, Lord Hillsborough,” the Duke said in his deep, authoritative voice that made goosebumps prickle up Emery’s spine. “I will fix this.”

“How?” her father demanded. “Are you going to force your brother to return and marry her?”

“I don’t know where Henry has gone,” the Duke said calmly. “And by the time I find him, word of this scandal will have spread throughout London. It is better she marry quickly--now, if possible.”

“That will never happen,” her father snorted. “She is practically a spinster! Add to which she has been left at the altar, well… What man would possibly want to marry her now?”

The Duke turned to look at Emery, and their eyes met. His were pale green, she realized, as she gazed up into them, and filled with a calm, cool determination that once again made her spine prickle. His eyes were resigned, but not devoid of fire. One that promised this would not be the end. “No…” she whispered, but it was too late.

Without looking away from her, without so much as blinking, he murmured, “I am going to marry her instead.”

Emery thought she was going to faint. Surely, I didn’t hear him right! He can’t have just said that.

But it took only one look at the shocked-and-rapidly-becoming-eager expressions on her parents' faces to know that he did. And of course he would. There was nothing else he could say, was there? Nothing else he could do that would appease her parents.

Emery stumbled, and Georgina caught her. Her mind was moving too slowly, unable to catch up with what was happening. Sounds reached her in a dull hum as even her vision felt blurred. All she could do was stare, wordlessly, soundlessly, as her father’s face split into a smile and he stepped forward, saying something, and shook the duke’s hand. Her mother was near tears as she too took his hand and curtsied in thanks.

And why wouldn’t they? She was to be married to a Duke!

“No,” she heard herself whisper again. “No!”

But no one heard her. Her parents were now hurrying away into the chapel to tell the pastor about the change of plans, and the Duke was turning toward her, a grim expression on his face.

She stepped forward, still feeling faint, but knowing that this was her last chance to say something; to stop this.

“Please, Your Grace, don’t do this,” she said, staring up at him with wild desperation. “You don’t even know me! You cannot want this wedding!”

“Neither of us want this wedding,” he said gruffly. “But what we want is immaterial. I cannot allow my brother to ruin your reputation. It is my duty to ensure he does not renege on his obligations and promises and ruin you in the process. I also have my family name and my sisters’ reputations to think about. Their chances of marrying well fall significantly if we are plunged into scandal. Not to mention…” he looked around and lowered his voice. “After what happened last night, it is my duty to marry you.”

“But--”

“It is decided, Lady Emery. Accept it.”

“I will not--” but she wasn’t able to say anything else before the pastor arrived, looking irate.

“What is this I hear about a change of bridegroom?” the pastor demanded, looking around at them all, thunderstruck. “I have never heard of anything so scandalous and depraved! A bridegroom is not interchangeable. I am shocked, Your Grace, that you would treat marriage so lightly, as if it were a game or a theatrical play, and not the most serious bond into which two people can enter!”

“On the contrary, I take marriage very seriously,” the Duke said, looking down at the pastor with cool disinterest. “Which is why I must marry Lady Emery in my brother’s place. He is not capable of performing his duty, so I must.”

“Even if it were not a violation of propriety, it is not possible!” the pastor said, puffing himself up. “The banns have been read. You cannot marry Lady Emery until new banns have been read and the waiting period has been complied with.”

“Yes, exactly,” Emery said, thinking quickly. The waiting period will give me time to formulate a plan and run away. Buy me some time.

But the Duke was not having it. He drew himself up to his full and considerable height and glared down at the pastor with such ferocity that Emery wasn’t surprised the cleric seemed to wilt down in front of him.

“There is nothing that anyone could object to about my marriage to Lady Emery, therefore it is not necessary to read the banns. Not to mention that my good friend, the Archbishop himself, would have no problem granting me a special license, were there time for me to apply to him for one.”

The pastor made a gurgling sound, then spoke in a more obsequious tone. “But Your Grace, I could lose--”

“My patronage? Indeed you could.” The threat was so explicit that Emery felt herself wince. The pastor’s eyes grew wide. “My patience is wearing thin,” the Duke continued. “And believe me, you do not want to see what happens when my patience runs out. So let us into the chapel and have ourselves a wedding.”

His tone was so final that no one dared to brook any opposition.

After that, things happened as if in a dream. Emery saw herself doing things, but she didn’t quite believe they were happening. She was no longer in control of her body. Somehow, she was ushered into the chapel. The guests were standing, looking confused, shocked, baffled, as her father led her down the aisle and the Duke of Dredford met her at the end of it. The organ was playing, she thought, but it felt more like a funeral hymn than the wedding march.

Then she was standing across from the Duke, and he was looking down at her, his expression impenetrable.

At last, she found her voice. “Please…” she whispered. “Don’t do this.”

“This is happening whether you like it or not,” the Duke muttered, as the organ music swelled around them. “You might as well not irreversibly embarrass yourself by trying anything foolish.”

Tears burned in her eyes as the organ music stopped and the pastor began to speak, but behind her anger and fear, there was something else burning: a fierce and unquenchable determination she had never felt before in all her days.

And as she repeated her vows of “I do” to the pastor, to the Duke, to all their witnesses, she made herself another vow: never again would she let others make decisions for her. From now on, she wouldn’t let herself avoid conflict to keep the peace, and more importantly, she would never again let anyone control her.

Even her new husband.