Chapter 20
Two weeks later, the morning of the wedding dawned clear and bright, a distinct contrast to the weather which had preceded it. The birds chirped merrily, and the sky held no hint of rain. Jessica was awake early enough to watch the sky turn from soft gray to blush pink to bright blue. She listened as the house began to come awake and relished her last few minutes of solitude before Donny and the other maids descended on her to ready her for the grand event.
Thankfully, her stomach was behaving, and she was not queasy as she had been on many mornings of late. Her gaze landed on her wedding gown which had arrived from the modiste the day before. In a few short hours, she would be dressed in it and walking down the aisle to become Damien’s bride. Despite their tumultuous beginning, she prayed that their marriage would be a happy one. Whether it’s happy or not depends just as much on you as on him, an inner voice told her.
A knock came at the door, and it opened to admit Donny followed by two maids carrying steaming kettles of water for her bath.
“Aye and tis a fair day for yer weddin’,” Donny beamed. “A fair day, indeed.”
Jessica could not quite summon the same excitement. Butterflies danced madly in her stomach.
The morning sped past. She was pampered and perfumed, and felt somewhat like a pagan virgin being made ready for sacrifice before a heathen god. She realized the comparison was not far from wrong. Damien was very capable of cutting out her heart with just a glance from those damnable green eyes.
Finally, she was ready. She stood before Donny and the other maids as they inspected her for any flaw.
One of the maids sighed. “Lawr, just like a fairy princess.”
Jessica felt like a fairy princess. Her gown was made of creamy satin and fell to the floor in simple lines. The toes of her matching shoes poked out at the hem. The neckline was cut low enough to tease, but high enough to retain her modesty. The long sleeves puffed at the shoulders and then tightly hugged her arms to the wrists. A train of the same material as her dress fell from her shoulders, held on by ties knotted in bows. Her hair was pulled up into little ringlets by a simple gold band studded with tiny diamonds. It had been a gift from Damien’s mother on their last shopping expedition together. Covering her head and face and trailing down her back to the length of the train was a veil of Spanish lace.
The Duchess knocked and entered. She smiled warmly. “You look lovely, Jessica.” She handed Jessica a white leather case. “Damien asked me to give this to you.”
Jessica opened the case and gasped when she saw its contents. Inside, lay a magnificent necklace of sapphires and diamonds with earrings to match.
“It is the customary gift of the Duke of Wyndham to his bride on their wedding day,” the Duchess explained.
“But I cannot accept these,” Jessica protested. “These are your jewels.”
The Duchess shook her head. “Not any more. In a short while, you will be the new Duchess of Wyndham. These are not mine any longer.” She grinned. “Besides, they will look much better on you than they ever did on me. They always clashed with my eyes.”
The lady took the necklace out of the case and clasped it about Jessica’s throat. Then she clipped on the earrings. She stood back and inspected her handiwork.
“Perfect.” The Duchess smiled. “We should go now. We have kept my son waiting long enough.”
Jessica’s heart fluttered, but she followed the Duchess out the bedroom door. She wondered how Damien was feeling at this moment. Was he as nervous as she was? No, that man was never ruffled. He would be cool and remote, as he always was.
She descended the stairs slowly, trying to keep her composure. Activity bustled all around her. A wedding banquet would be held in the ballroom after the ceremony. Jessica stepped out into the sunshine and climbed into the carriage. The Duchess and then Donny followed. Her nanny would take care of any last minute primping that had to be done. The carriage moved off, and she sat back to contemplate her fate.
The ride to the church seemed an eternity, yet not long enough to suit her. As they stood in the vestibule, the Duchess sent her a worried glance. “Are you all right?” she asked. At Jessica’s faint nod, she whispered, “Be brave, Jessica,” and gave her a quick hug. “It will be over sooner than you realize.” Then she turned and walked down the aisle to take her place at the front of the cathedral.
Jessica stood alone in the vestibule. The lofty notes of the massive organ sent a shiver through her. She was grateful that her soon-to-be mother-in-law was kind and supportive. She didn’t know what she would have done if the dowager Duchess had been anything like Margaret.
Donny fussed with Jessica’s veil and her train. One of the footmen handed her a single, white rose and told her it was from His Grace. The organ music changed, and she sent a pleading glance at Donny. Her nanny just smiled broadly and motioned for her to start walking.
Jessica gazed down the length of the cathedral. She swallowed hard, and somehow, her feet began to move her forward. She had a fleeting impression of curious and smiling faces, but the main focus of her attention was the man dressed in elegant black velvet and white silk who watched her approach with glittering, green eyes. Beside him stood Edward Johnson, the witness to the wedding. His smile was friendly and warm, and gave Jessica a boost of confidence.
Damien held out a darkly tanned hand to her. As she placed her small one on his, she looked up into his face. He raised a brow and a corner of his mouth twitched up, then he turned to lead her to where the priest stood waiting. She had a sudden urge to flee back down the aisle, but she repressed the feeling. Both her unborn child and her brother depended on her.
She knelt beside Damien as the priest said a short prayer, then stood to exchange vows with the man beside her. She listened intently as he stated his vows.
“To love, honor, and protect…and I pledge thee my troth.” His voice was firm and low, and he sounded as if he meant every word.
Before she had time to think, it was her turn to say her vows. Somehow, she managed not to stumble over the words. Then came the moment for Damien to place the ring on her finger. Her hand trembled but he held it steady as he slipped the wide, intricately carved, gold band on the third finger of her left hand. She stared down at the symbol that told the world she now belonged to Damien.
The priest gave them a final blessing. The ceremony was over. She was officially the wife of Damien Trevor, Duke of Wyndham. She belonged to him until death parted them. This had been her deepest desire, to be wife to Damien. But she had not wanted it forced on him. She had wanted him to want this marriage as much as she did.
Damien turned her to face him and folded back her veil. She looked up into his handsome face, and her mind froze. All her thoughts and doubts were stilled as her senses were overpowered by the man before her.
One corner of his mouth lifted. “I believe,” he said quietly, “that it is customary for the groom to kiss the bride at this point.”
His arm went about her, pulling her close. She braced herself for the ravaging of her mouth that she had come to expect, but instead, his lips came down on hers softly, gently caressing and surprising her into a response. The world seemed to spin around her, and her knees turned to jelly. She held onto his coat with both hands and swayed against him for support. Her lips parted, inviting him, beckoning. All thoughts of their bargain flew from her mind as his kiss deepened.
She had no idea how long they remained in their embrace. The priest clearing his throat finally brought her back to reality. As Damien raised his head, his green eyes glinted with heat and something else… She couldn’t define it, but it made her breath catch in her throat. Then with a smile, the spell was broken. He tucked her hand into the crook of his arm. Together, they walked back down the aisle.
It had only been a short while ago that she had walked this path alone. Strange, how a few minutes of time could completely alter one’s life. Before, she had been the poor daughter of a deceased earl, thrown out of her own home by her stepmother. Now, she was the Duchess of Wyndham, wife of a very powerful and very rich man.
They emerged into the late afternoon sun and hurried down the steps and into the waiting coach. A curious crowd had gathered outside the church, and there was much shoving and pushing to see the new wife of the Duke. Once inside the coach, Jessica sat as far into the corner as possible. She was suddenly very shy of her new husband.
Damien was unable to sit very close to her because of the long train of her dress. The creamy satin billowed around his feet and up over his knees. He pushed at it ineffectually and smiled ruefully.
“I think wedding dresses are designed to keep husbands away from their new wives as long as possible,” His eyes danced with humor as he glanced at her. He took her hand and placed a kiss on her open palm. “You look beautiful today, my love,” he murmured. “Delectable witch turned into a fairy princess.” He flashed her a grin.
Jessica blushed and ducked her head. He could charm the feathers from a peacock with his flirting.
A few minutes later the coach pulled up before the door of Damien’s house. He descended, then turned to help Jessica. As she gazed up at the front door, apprehension at meeting the guests inside, most of whom she did not know, made her stomach flutter.
Damien bent close and whispered in her ear, “Do you suppose we could sneak away for a private game of cards?”
She smiled up at him. “Only if you let me win,” she whispered back, grateful for his attempt to help her feel at ease. Her heart swelled at the connection between them. Together, they walked up the stairs and into the house.
When they entered, they discovered all the servants lined up waiting for them in the front hall. Jacobs cleared his throat, then announced, “Their Graces, the Duke and Duchess of Wyndham.” All the servants cheered and applauded.
Damien thanked them, then smiled down at Jessica. “It seems they have accepted you as their mistress,” he observed.
With apprehension, she answered, “I hope I do not disappoint them.”
The applause died, and Jacobs shooed the servants back to their duties, then he turned to Jessica and Damien. “May I extend my congratulations and best wishes to Your Graces,” he said with a formal bow.
“Thank you, Jacobs,” Damien answered. “That is most thoughtful of you.”
Jacobs snapped his fingers and Frannie appeared with a tray that held a snifter of brandy and a steaming cup of tea. “I took the liberty of preparing a small libation for you both,” he said.
“Oh, Jacobs, you are a dear,” Jessica exclaimed as she took her cup.
The butler looked rather aghast, but pleased, at her informality “Thank you, Your Grace.” He nearly smiled. “Now, if you will excuse me, I must attend to my duties.” Bowing again, he left.
Jessica and Damien were alone, but only for a few moments. Damien’s mother arrived along with Donny and Leftenant Johnson. The two women hustled Jessica upstairs, so she could refresh herself before meeting the guests. Halfway up, she glanced over her shoulder. Damien was watching her, his gaze warm, intense, possessive. A pleasurable shiver ran through her. Then Leftenant Johnson said something to him and the spell was broken. But as she continued up the stairs, she smiled to herself as she began to plan her campaign to make Damien fall in love with her.