Ewan continued his heated argument with his father, his body shaking with anger. This was too much, and everything in him resisted the Duke’s attempts to placate him.

“You cannot have seriously done this to me!” he insisted inconsolably. “Keeping her from me until this moment. The heavy veil, the –”

“Son,” the Duke began, “you must –”

“No,” Ewan cut him off harshly. “You must. You. You must understand—”

The Duchess stepped into the vestibule, her face drawn tight with concern. She interrupted her son without apology and addressed the Duke.

“My dear, Miss Oliver has fled.”

Ewan felt something like relief rush through him as the news momentarily derailed the argument. As he calmed down, his father lit up with his own fresh wave of indignation.

“What?” the Duke roared. “Fled where? On foot?”

“Yes, dear. What shall we tell the guests?”

“Has anyone gone after her?” He turned to Ewan. “Go after her.”

“I will not,” Ewan replied defiantly.

“My dear,” the Duchess continued, “the guests?”

“You will!” the Duke roared again. “Now!”

“I will not. We will let her go God-knows-where. It is for the best.”

The Duke looked at Ewan in disbelief. “For the best? Do my ears deceive me? She is your wife!”

“And we are not children. I will not be commanded to chase her like a child,” Ewan snapped. “She has run off on her own power, and I will be damned if I will drag her back against her will. Mother, please tell the guests that the wedding dinner will be served as planned and all are expected to stay.”

The Duchess ducked back into the chapel and began to make the announcement.

“With no bride?” the Duke questioned Ewan with a sneer. “You will eat your nuptial dinner alone?”

“What I do, with or without my wife, is my concern, Father. Mine alone. You have done quite enough. I will do my best to cope, but you will please refrain from further meddling in my affairs. Now if you will excuse me, I need to compose myself.”

With that, Ewan quit the vestibule and walked briskly toward his apartments. He was becoming completely unhinged, barely held together by the slimmest of restraint. It was all a cruel joke, the type that leaves no one actually laughing.

He entered his rooms and went straight to the decanter, poured a scotch and drained the glass in one swig. He poured another.

What a wreck. His parents meant well, but he should never have agreed to go through with this. Yes, they were right to be concerned about the future, the duchy, an heir. All of that was very real. But there was still plenty of time to address those matters. They had pressed him too soon.

And then there was the girl! Who was this girl and where did she come from? And how, in the name of all that is holy, could she be the mirror image of Patricia? Again, a cruel joke.

A knock on the door brought out his growl. “Go away.”

The door opened a crack and Lord Averson poked his head in.

“I hear this is where you hide the good scotch.”

“I am in no need of company, Averson.”

“Clearly. However, I am in need of good scotch, so you’ll forgive me for interrupting your moody musings.” The man made himself at home at the decanter.

Ewan grunted at his friend’s blithe characterization of this debacle.

“Come now, what say you?” Averson asked cheerfully.

Slumped in a large chair, Ewan extended his glass to Averson. “Another drink, if you don’t mind.”

“That bad, eh?” Averson replied, taking the glass and adding to it.

“You were there as I recall.”

“Yes, yes, indeed I was. You were all nervous excitement when you went to lift the veil. It was quintessentially quaint!” Averson announced dramatically. “And then you made quite the scene, leaving that poor girl to think you had looked upon Medusa herself.”

Ewan winced and took another swig of scotch. He was acutely aware that was not his finest moment.

“I might owe her an apology for that,” he mumbled.

Averson laughed. “You owe her something, that’s for sure.”

“I truly fail to see how this is all so amusing, Averson,” Ewan asserted indignantly.

“Come now, my friend. Is it really so bad? To be wed to a clever and comely girl? You could do much, much worse. The stupid ones are incredibly hard to bear.” He downed the last of his drink. “Even if they are pretty.”

“Clever how?” Ewan’s mind shot back to the ruse of visiting a sick relative. Nothing good ever came from dishonesty. And since the ruse was part of keeping her mysteriously out of his sight until today, well, the taste in his mouth just turned all the more bitter.

“She’s smart, Ewan. I have a new valet who was recently in the employ of General Oliver. Seth tells me that your bride was caught on more than one occasion reading medical journals well into the night — much to her father’s chagrin. And the General suspects his daughter of frequenting the circulating library in Byrne to feed this incessant hunger for knowledge. The medical journals,” he repeated with annoying emphasis. “The General keeps her close, but she has been known to become separated from her abigail from time to time. It’s naturally all hushed up.”

“And just what interest could this girl possibly have in medical journals?”

“That is what I behoove you to discover.” Averson finished his drink. “Again, I say, you could do much worse. Ladies like Miss Oliver are curious creatures. Very intriguing, wouldn’t you say?”

“No. I would not say. Sounds like trouble. I don’t want trouble, Averson. I just want to be left alone. Why does no one understand that?”

Ewan had given a standard answer, but truth be told, he was intrigued, if only a little.

“Well, being left alone is going to be a problem, at least for a few days. There are nearly a hundred people in the Nightingale dining room currently eating a wedding feast with a very gracious, if unconventionally attired, bride and noting the very conspicuous absence of a groom.”

Ewan stood, set down his glass, and straightened his tailcoat. Intrigue had won the day over melancholy. “My Lady hath returned from far afield to sit at table?” he mocked.

“She has indeed, sir.”

“Then methinks we best attend to her promptly, Lord Averson. It is most-bad form to maketh my Lady wait. Especially on her wedding day.”

“Indeed, it is,” Averson replied with a smile, following his friend out the apartment doors. “Indeed, it is.”