Destiny with a Duke, page 20
He explained he had written to her and sent a footman with the letter, concluding with, “We may have to wait several days before I hear her reply.”
“I can begin making certain arrangements,” Emery told him. “We can leave others until we know the exact date.”
“What will you wear?” asked Meadow.
The women began talking about gowns and bonnets and Finch found himself ignoring their discussion as his friends and Lord Weldon were drawn into a much different conversation.
“Will you honeymoon?” Donovan asked.
The thought hadn’t occurred to him. Nothing really had, beyond asking Victoria to be his wife. Dread filled him. She would want to go to Sommerville. He needed to tell her why he couldn’t. Why they would have to live at another of his country estates.
“I thought we might tour my properties,” he said, to which the others nodded in approval. “I have not seen any of them.”
“What about where you grew up?” Lord Weldon asked. “Where is your country seat?”
Finch’s mouth grew dry. “After my father’s death, Mama took Cyril and me to our grandfather’s country seat. Sommerville. It is in Kent, not far from Maidstone. I have inherited a good number of estates in various parts of England and have never seen any of them before. Thus, my idea to visit at least some of them with Victoria. I am curious about them.”
He thought his explanation sounded reasonable as Lord Weldon nodded thoughtfully. Finch avoided looking at the other Terrors. The conversation was becoming perilously close to things he wished to stay buried.
Except with Victoria. He must be honest with her.
But what if she rejected him? What if she couldn’t stand the sight of him after he bared his soul to her?
Losing Victoria might very well kill him.
Finch had already walked away from her once. Those two weeks had seemed interminable. If he lost her again, he would lose what was left of his very soul.
*
Victoria stood in front of the mirror, dressed for her wedding day.
“Oh, you are the loveliest of brides,” Aunt Hermione said with approval. “I only wish your mother had lived to see this day.” She touched her cheek to Victoria’s. “I will go downstairs and send Weldon to you.”
“Thank you.”
She watched her aunt leave and turned to look back at her image.
It was her wedding day. She was going to marry Finch. More than anything, she wanted to marry Finch.
She wasn’t certain she should, though.
The past ten days had been a whirlwind of activity. Uncle Herman and Aunt Hermione had held a soiree in honor of Finch and Victoria’s engagement. Olivia had hosted a dinner party for all the Terrors and their families so they could celebrate. She and Finch had also gone to several ton events together. She had been deliriously happy.
Until she noticed he wasn’t.
Getting him alone to speak about it was next to impossible. People seemed to always surround them, wanting to talk to them, congratulate them, ask about wedding details. Then his mother and three siblings arrived in town and came to stay at Finch’s townhouse. Though they were not attending any social affairs, due to being in mourning, they all would come to the wedding.
Because of everything, she had barely been alone with her fiancé. When she tried to question him about his mood, he had shaken his head, telling her it was nothing and that they would talk at length when they had a chance.
That chance had never come. Instead, their guests awaited her downstairs, the ceremony about to begin.
And Victoria wasn’t sure she should speak her vows.
Once again, she believed it had to do with something in his past. She believed Finch wanted to tell her about it but whatever it involved, it remained locked deeply within him.
Or was it that he didn’t love her?
He had never spoken those exact words to her. True, he had told her she knew his heart. That it was hers. But that could possibly refer to merely having an affection for her. An admiration. Perhaps Finch thought marriage involved love, especially seeing that all his friends had made love matches.
How odd to think that she had never considered love a requirement for marriage, much less a possibility. Yet she had fallen in love with Finch. Would the love she held for him in her heart be enough for them?
Victoria didn’t know.
A light rap sounded and she moved to the door. Opening it, she found Uncle Herman there, all smiles.
“I have never seen a more beautiful bride,” he told her, sincerity shining in his eyes. Then a look of mischief crossed his face. “Just don’t tell your aunt I said so. She would hope to lay claim to that.”
He took her hand and slipped it into the crook of his arm. “Shall we?”
As they started down the corridor, she asked, “Were you nervous on your wedding day?”
He grew thoughtful. “A bit, I suppose. It was very long ago. Why? Are you?”
She hadn’t been on her first one. Instead, she had been filled with gloom, the choice of finding a husband being taken from her. As she spoke her vows, dread filled her, as if she had been sentenced to the gallows.
Today, she was a mixture of joy and apprehension. She worried Finch didn’t want to wed her.
“I suppose I do have a few nerves,” she admitted cautiously.
“It is only natural, my dear. You are entering into a social contract that lasts until death do you part. Even if you love His Grace—and I can tell by the way you gaze upon him that you surely do—it is a lifetime commitment. That is a bit frightening.”
He patted her hand reassuringly. “You will do well together. I guarantee it.”
They reached the drawing room and two footmen opened the doors. Victoria glanced at the sea of faces present as a lone violinist began playing and Uncle Herman escorted her into the room. She caught sight of Finch, looking elegant and handsome. His gaze pinned hers as they moved toward him. Once again, he looked much too solemn for her liking, almost ghostly, his face colorless.
This wouldn’t do.
They reached Aunt Hermione and she paused, kissing her aunt’s cheek. Uncle Herman kissed Victoria’s cheek and released her and she made her way toward Finch. He nodded as she took her place beside him.
The clergyman smiled broadly at the couple. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God, and in the face of this congregation, to join together this man and this woman in—”
“I need a moment,” Victoria spoke up. “A private moment. With my fiancé.”
The vicar stared at her, his mouth agape.
“Victoria?” questioned Finch, his brow furrowing.
“Come with me,” she said, taking his hand and pulling him away from the semicircle of friends who looked on now with concern.
Leading him to a far corner, by a window, she faced him and said, “Do you truly wish to wed me today?”
He looked uncertain as he asked, “Do you wish to marry me?”
“I asked first,” she told him. “And I would like a reply now before we proceed with—or halt—the ceremony.”
Anguish filled his face. “If you have changed your mind, Victoria, I will respect your wishes.”
“I didn’t say I had changed my mind. I believe you have changed yours, however.”
Shock was evident in his eyes. “Why would you say that?”
“You haven’t seemed happy ever since our betrothal was announced. I didn’t notice at first because I was selfishly wrapped up in my own happiness. But as the days passed, you seemed so . . . distant. I can’t help but think you have changed your mind and were too much a gentleman to tell me so.”
Finch took her hands in his. “I love you, Victoria,” he said fiercely, fire burning in his eyes. “I did not know that was even possible.”
“You love me?” she asked softly.
“Very much. Almost too much,” he admitted.
“Then why have you seemed so unenthusiastic about today? About our union?”
He swallowed hard and she saw tears form in his eyes. “I don’t feel I deserve you. You are goodness and light and everything wonderful.” He hesitated a moment. “I have much wrong with me, Victoria. Things we should have discussed even before I asked you to be my wife. Things inside me that hurt me and taunt me and make me less than whole.”
She squeezed his hands. “You love me.”
“I do,” he said solemnly.
“And I love you. Together, we can take on any demons you bear, Finch. We are a team. We are stronger together than apart. I will fight for you. I would even die for you. That is how much I love you.” She paused. “And nothing—nothing—you could tell me will ever change the way I feel.”
Relief filled his face. “I do not deserve you,” he repeated.
“Please, never say that. We deserve each other. We were brought together for a reason. We have decided to forge a life together, through our marriage. Tell me you want to be married to me.”
He nodded. “I do. More than words can ever say. I do love you, Victoria. So very, very much.”
“Prove it.”
“How?”
“Kiss me.”
A slow smile turned the corners of his mouth up. “You cannot wait for a kiss until after we speak our vows?”
“I want a kiss from you now,” she demanded.
What she didn’t tell him was that she would know by his kiss if he truly loved her or not. If he were willing to go out on a limb and plunge into a new life with her by his side.
Suddenly, he seized her, yanking her to him, his mouth coming down hard on hers. It was a searing, toe-curling, spine-tingling kiss, filling her with heat and longing. Finch gentled it and it sweetened.
She knew. He did, too.
They belonged together.
He still might be fighting demons but, soon, she would be there to fight them with him. They would be bound by the laws of God and man.
Finch broke the kiss. “Will you marry me, Victoria?”
She smiled, radiance filling her. “Why, I would be delighted to, Finch.”
They returned to the very curious group who watched them, standing once more in front of the vicar.
“We are ready to continue,” Victoria said primly.
Still looking somewhat shaken, the clergyman began the ceremony again.
“Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God . . .”
This time, Finch entwined his fingers with hers.
Happiness filled Victoria.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Finch cursed inwardly as he watched Victoria glide down the staircase, her smile radiant as she began making the rounds of saying goodbye to their wedding guests.
He was a bastard of the worst kind.
He had married her without telling her who he truly was.
How was he going to continue in the lie?
Wanting to tell her the truth and doing it had been two very different things. In the days leading up to their wedding, they barely had time to breathe, much less time alone.
Time when he was supposed to lay his soul bare to her. And hadn’t.
As the wedding drew near, he desperately wanted to get her alone and talk to her. Even if he had, though, Finch didn’t think the words would have come. He tried never to think of that time in his life and had never spoken of it to anyone.
How do you tell the woman you love you are broken beyond repair?
He hadn’t. It was as simple as that. He had put Victoria off when she sensed something was wrong, always thinking he would find a way to utter the words and reveal his past. Instead, the days ticked down and then became hours until the ceremony had arrived and he found himself miserable, standing there in the drawing room, those who loved Victoria and him surrounding them. Finch swore to himself he wouldn’t go through with it. That he would stop it.
It had been Victoria who stopped it before it even began.
She had thought he didn’t love her. How wrong she was. She was the very air he breathed. His only reason for living. If she had left him, he would have no excuse to go on.
The thought of her leaving terrified him. Finch had assured her that he loved her. The most he could choke out was that he didn’t deserve her and he had things wrong with him.
Leave it to Victoria to tell him she loved him and they would fight whatever it was together. Her words bolstered him. Made him almost believe he could be whole. But it was kissing her that sealed their fate. When she asked for a kiss, Finch hadn’t held back. He had kissed her with every fiber of his being. He poured his desire into the kiss—and then foolishly asked her to marry him.
She had agreed.
And so they were now husband and wife. Duke and duchess. Bound together in the eyes of God and by the Church of England.
Finch didn’t know how to undo what he had done. His silence had tied them together. Victoria loved him. She wanted children.
He didn’t think he could even try to give them to her.
Thus, his misery.
Wyatt came and slung an arm about him. “You are looking far too gloomy for a groom,” he teased. “Cheer up. You will never have to make another decision by yourself again. You have Victoria to help you do so. She is a bright, thoughtful woman. You could not have made a better match.”
“She’s too good for me.”
Wyatt chuckled. “All the Terrors married women too good for us. We are all grateful that fate brought us to our wives. You will feel the same. Soon, Victoria will be bossing you about, her belly swollen with your child. Then you will feel like you are the luckiest man in the world.”
The thought of Victoria carrying his babe almost brought Finch to his knees. He had seen the Terrors’ wives and how luminous they had all looked when they had a babe in their belly. Victoria would glow with good health and happiness.
The problem was that Finch didn’t think he could complete the act that would put his seed inside her. The thing his new wife wanted the most was something he doubted he could give her. He should have told her. Because he hadn’t, disaster lay ahead. Tears. Accusations. Alienation.
All because he hadn’t the courage to be honest with the woman he loved.
“You’re staying in London until tomorrow?” Wyatt asked.
“Yes,” he said. “We are scheduled to leave in the morning for the country.”
“Will you go to Sommerville first and then begin the tour of your estates?”
“No. No Sommerville.” Not now. Not ever.
It was another thing he hadn’t told her. He refused to go to the place where it had occurred. Where all the pain and fear and despair lived. He would never set foot at Sommerville again.
Suddenly, Victoria appeared before him. “Are you ready to leave?” she asked, her gaze adoring.
“Of course.”
Finch took her hand, a simple gesture, one which made him feel husbandly. Who would have known merely holding his wife’s hand would fill him with such happiness?
Facing the crowd in the foyer now, he said, “My duchess and I would like to give you our heartiest thanks,” knowing it was what Victoria would want him to say. “You are treasured friends and a loving family and we are blessed to have you in our lives.”
His gaze connected with his mother’s and she touched her fingers to her lips. At least they were no longer estranged. It felt right speaking with her once more. She hadn’t been much of a mother to him in the past but she had learned to do a better job with other children, whom he now viewed as his siblings. She had talked of grandchildren this past week and how excited she would be to become a grandmother. Bile rose as he thought of it.
“We especially wish to thank Miles and Emery for hosting the wedding and the breakfast,” Finch continued. “It is humbling to have a circle of friends who have taken such good care of me through the years and who will take care of Victoria, as well.”
He wondered if their friends would take her side or his in the coming days and weeks. How much Victoria would tell them of what Finch revealed to her. He was determined to do so before he tried to consummate their marriage. If her disgust caused her to flee, he would have to let her go.
They left the foyer and made for the carriage outside which would take them the few blocks to his townhouse. Fear filled him, knowing he could no longer put off telling his bride the truth.
Finch helped her into the carriage and climbed in behind her. They waved to the large group gathered on the pavement as the vehicle pulled away.
“Ah,” Victoria sighed. “At last.”
She half-stood and then collapsed into his lap, wriggling until she was comfortable. Her hands framed his face. “I have wanted to do this for hours.”
Pulling his face to hers, their lips met. He didn’t want to kiss her but he certainly didn’t want to reject her. Softly, she brushed her lips against his and then boldly initiated a deeper move, her tongue dipping into his mouth. Finch groaned, his arms going about her, and he kissed her thoroughly.
All too soon, the carriage slowed and Victoria broke the kiss. Mischief shone in her eyes as she said, “There will be more of that to come, Your Grace.”
She returned to sitting next to him just as the vehicle’s door opened. Finch bounded out and held his hand up to her. She took it and descended the stairs, her eyes still twinkling at him.
Lowry stood on the pavement, bowing to them. “Your Graces. I have gathered the staff so that Her Grace might meet them.”
They went inside and Finch saw the foyer lined on both sides with footmen, maids, and other servants.
His butler said to Victoria, “I am Lowry, Your Grace. I serve as His Grace’s butler. This is Mrs. Lowry, who is the housekeeper.”
Together, the Lowrys took their new mistress down one line and back up the other, introducing everyone who worked in the household.
Rufus was the last of the lot and said, “I am Rufus, the valet. Your Grace, we are most happy that someone of your beauty and charm has come to manage both the household and His Grace. He can be a tiresome fellow but he has a good heart. We are grateful you consented to wed him.”
