The silence seemed to stretch for an eternity.

Ren finally said, "Yes." He turned to me. "Get your hair and makeup ladies in to fix your face. We can't keep the guests waiting."

I sat up straight, eyes suddenly dry. "I haven't said yes yet."

My mind was whirring. I was in too much shock to decide if Ren was being practical or if he was just totally arrogant. There was also the distinct possibility he saw me as desperate and willing to do anything to get my hands on the estate. He wasn't too far off.

"Would you like me to get on my knees?" Before I could answer, he was on one knee in front of me, and Hardly was passing my hand over to him.

I snatched it back and glared at Ren.

He sighed. "Would you do me the honor of letting me be your substitute duke and groom?"

"Get up." I turned to Thorne. "If I agree, how do we do this? What about the marriage license?"

"The license is for you and the Duke of Manly of this address. Any other discrepancies can be easily fixed. I'll take care of it, of course. The marriage will be completely legal and binding."

"Prenups?" I said. I could be as hard as Mom. In this case, I was the one with the money.

"Airtight. The same agreement would be in place with the new duke." He tapped the sheaf of papers. "All I require are your signatures."

I hesitated only a second. How could these be Manly's wishes? Just last night, he had warned me off Ren. But they had to be. And they had his signature love of scandal on them. I just didn't think he'd anticipated quite this much of a show.

"We'll need Harris." I texted him, Mom, Dad, Julie, and Faye while I talked. Mom would have to be reassured that I wasn't throwing away my inheritance and financial future. "While we sign the paperwork and I get ready to marry the new duke, I want Manly's wishes explained to our friends and family. Not, obviously, the details. Just that Manly wanted me to marry his heir and I'm doing this out of my love for him. I can't stand the thought of our friends and family thinking I'm hardhearted and unfeeling. That I'm not respecting Manly."

I took a deep breath, wondering what had happened to my sanity. Part of me screamed that I'd lost all sense of reason. That this was too crazy. The other part of me was cold and practical. "I need a pen."

Neither Ren nor I spoke as we silently signed where Thorne indicated.

Julie and Faye showed up with their toolkits just as we were finishing. They looked as stunned by this turn of events as I was. Someone had obviously filled them in.

"You have fifteen minutes." Ren brushed past them.

They went right to work, uncharacteristically silent as I sat in Manly's desk chair with my back to the door that Thorne and the two old dukes guarded. Were they making sure I didn't become a runaway bride? Or were they there to keep anyone from talking me out of this lunacy?

I didn't trust myself to speak. My mind was reeling. My thoughts were erratic. I half expected my mom and dad to burst past the dukes and talk me out of this. When they didn't, I knew that Mom, at least, approved of this change of plans.

My thoughts returned to Ren. Even up to the point of walking down the stairs to say my vows to Manly, I'd wished Ren were the groom instead. But now that I'd gotten my wish, I was certain it had doomed anything that might have blossomed between us. How could this last more than a year now? How could it end other than bitterly? He didn't love me, and I didn't love him. One marriage of convenience was not like every other. This one wouldn't end in death, but in divorce.

Julie handed me a mirror to inspect myself and gently whispered, "Are you sure?"

I met her eyes in the mirror and nodded. As I studied myself in the mirror, I didn't recognize the newly fresh and gilded woman with the hard eyes staring back at me. Looking at my reflection, I saw no traces of the girl who'd just cried her eyes out. Julie had erased all remnants of her and replaced her with a fresh-faced porcelain princess with no heart at all.

This was the last time I would be a pawn in anyone else's game of life. Next year at this time, I'd be free. With only half a castle, true—but, with any luck, a controlling interest.

I was still staring in the mirror when Ren returned. I caught his reflection before he realized I'd spotted him. He lingered in the doorway, watching me with a hungry, haunted expression. I knew that look. It was the look of a person who'd gotten what they wanted, but had realized too late that what they wanted could very well be their undoing.

"Time's up." He strode into the room, looking devilishly handsome. He'd combed his hair and changed his shirt. His jacket and slacks were the same, black on black again. What had I expected? A tux to magically appear in his size?

My mouth went dry. A voice inside me warned me again not to do this. I ignored it.

Julie and Faye stepped back from me, leaving me to Ren as he came up beside me.

"Everything's ready," he said.

"Where's my wedding planner?"

"Trying to salvage the reception and calm the chef before he walks out."

He was a brilliant and talented liar. He didn't want my wedding planner anywhere near me.

I raised an eyebrow, trying to stay calm. "How will I ever manage the logistics?" I snorted. "How will I get back to the top of the stairs? Where are my bridesmaids? My dad?" I paused. "You know, Dad wanted me to leave Manly at the altar and even offered to help me escape."

"I'll keep that in mind." Ren grabbed my wrist and pulled me to my feet. "We don't need any of that other crap. You've already walked down the aisle once. We'll resume where you left off."

"You mean at the part where the groom dies?"

The corners of his mouth curled up. "Yes. That part exactly." He pulled me by the hand out of the room and down the long hall past the police milling around, past rows of gaping people, to the altar in the salon. He stopped in front of the minister with the hushed crowd at our backs. "We're ready. Proceed."

Reverend Hodgson looked at me. I nodded. I was stunned and determined. As unromantic as it was, Ren was probably right to dispense with all the frivolities. I didn't want to walk down those stairs again and remember Manly falling to his knees and dying, anyway. I didn't want time to imagine him lying somewhere in the castle waiting for a hearse to carry him away.

I had planned a short, but traditional, ceremony with music and a wine-mixing unity ceremony. Ren had dispensed with all that and distilled it to just the vows, dispensing also with allowing anyone to voice objections. My parents remained calmly in their seats. I was getting no help from them. And maybe it was my imagination, but it almost seemed like the police were blocking the exits.

Ren took my hands in his. Mine had gone ice cold and were trembling. His were surprisingly warm, and his grip was strong. If I'd been in a more forgiving mood, or he'd been another kind of man, I might have thought he was trying to reassure and steady me.

The minister, as was traditional, had Ren say his vows first. "Ren, do you take Bliss to be your wife? Do you promise to honor and protect her, give her your loyalty above all others and hold only to her?"

"I do." Ren's voice was steady and hard.

Damn him. Those weren't the traditional vows. He'd altered them. No vows to love me? To forsake me above all others? And where was the forevermore bit? Loyalty? What was that, a pale imitation of affection? He may as well have just agreed to take me as his wife for a year at least and left it at that.

The minister turned to me. With my face set and my mask in place, I agreed to the same vows automatically, trying not to dwell on what I was doing, barely noticing what I was saying.

He married me with the ring Manly had designed for me with an heirloom family diamond as the centerpiece. On my finger it felt like a band sucking the life out of me. I married Ren with the ring I'd bought for Manly. Ren was a much taller man than Manly, but, to my surprise, the ring fit. He could take it off and throw it away after today and I wouldn't care. This marriage was such a farce. So why was it breaking my heart?

And then it was over. All that was left was the kiss. The kiss was the showstopper. The groom's show. Here was where his personality shone and he showed his love and passion for the bride. I hadn't known Ren long enough or well enough to even guess what he might do. Ham it up. Give me a quick peck. Dispense with it altogether, like he had with love?

The crowd held its breath. I stared defiantly into Ren's eyes, challenging him to make it good, whatever he did or didn't do.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife," the minister said in his booming voice. He turned to Ren uncertainly. "You may kiss the bride?"

Ren answered by pulling me into his arms and sliding one hand along the side of my face, directing my lips to his. I slipped my arms around his neck. His kiss was quick, a brief touch, a chaste tease. Before I could pull away, he kissed me again, another gentle butterfly kiss. And another, holding my lower lip between his, trying to seduce me into really kissing him back.

I closed my eyes, daring him to continue. He grazed my lower lip with his teeth. His tongue darted into my mouth and touched the tip of my tongue, teasing me again. My heart beat wildly. The fire of his touch coursed through me. Just when I was getting ready to really French him, he released me, turned, and waved to the audience.

Women were fanning themselves. Some were dabbing their eyes. I wanted to scream. The whole thing is fake. You know it is. This is clearly a marriage of convenience.

I expected censure, some disgust that we'd married each other an hour after my fiancé passed away. But Ren had won them over with a romantic kiss. Or maybe scandal was what they expected from him, and he was happy to give it to them. Real life was better than a soap opera any day.

In contrast, in the front row, my mom sat dry-eyed, carefully studying Ren like a master chess player thinking several moves ahead. Next to her, Dad looked straight ahead, probably to avoid having to talk to Mom. Next to him, my stepmom of the moment bent his ear. Dad caught my eye and gave me a questioning look, trying to determine if I was all right. I gave him the slightest nod.

Ren took my hand as the processional began to play and led me back to Manly's office to sign the marriage license with Axe and Hardly as witnesses and a policeman standing in the corner. Within minutes, it was done. My hand barely shook as I signed my name. Just a few hours later than planned, I was the Duchess of Manly.

Before either of us could speak, the officer intruded. "I'd like a word with Miss Harper, if you will."

"You mean the duchess," Ren snapped.

"My apologies, duke. Yes, with the duchess. Alone, if I may." Despite the politeness of his speech, it wasn't a request.

Ren's face was a mask. "Is this necessary, really?"

"I'm afraid it is," the officer said. "Procedure. You know how that goes. With any sudden home death, it's our duty to interview all witnesses. We've made our way through about half the guests. But I need to talk to the duchess before she mingles with the crowd."

Ren's eyes narrowed. "My bride has been through a lot today, as you can imagine. Don't keep her long." He paused. "I assume your team will be interviewing the rest of the guests during the reception and after if necessary?"

The officer nodded. "Until we have a statement from everyone."

"We have plenty of food. Tell your officers they're welcome to refreshments. From the kitchen. And cake, too, of course." Ren leaned in and whispered to me, "I'll be right outside the door waiting for you."

"I won't detain the duchess long, your grace." The officer's tone was respectful. But given the circumstances, it was impossible not to be upset.

Ren led the dukes out of the room and shut the door, leaving me alone with the officer.

"Why don't you tell me what you remember about the late duke's death this morning?"

I turned a wide-eyed look at him. "You want me to relive that now?"

He apologized. I told him everything I remembered while he took notes.

"And before the wedding this morning, did you see the late duke?"

"No. Not at all." I forced a shaky smile. "It's bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the ceremony."

The officer cleared his throat and looked uncomfortable. "When was the last time you saw him? Before the ceremony, that is."

"Last night, just before he went to bed. Then not again until I came down the stairs…" I brushed a tear away with my fingertip.

"How did he seem then?"

I shrugged. "Like any groom on the night before his wedding, I suppose. In good spirits. Tired. But Manly is always tired at that time of night. It was his bedtime."

"Nothing out of the ordinary about him? He didn't mention not feeling well? Or being unusually tired?"

I stared at the officer, not liking the implication he was making. "No. But he wouldn't. Not to me. He wouldn't have wanted me to be upset or worried the night before our wedding."

"My sympathies, duchess." He put away his notes and opened the door for me.

Ren waited in the hall.

"That's it?" I asked the officer.

"For now, yes."

Ren glared at him and dismissed him with a curt "thank you." Ren took my hand, leading me away. "Our fans await."

"You mean guests," I said as he pulled down the hall.

He gave a wry grin. "'Fans' may be too self-aggrandizing. Audience, then. We're definitely giving them a show." He glanced back at the officer.

Before we reached the reception, an official from the mortuary stopped us. "Duke, we're ready to take the late duke's body. We just need a signature." He held out an electronic device for Ren to sign.

A signature to marry. A signature to bury. At least the funeral home had moved into the twenty-first century and was electronic. Ren signed quickly, thanked the official, whispered something to him, and pulled me away. I was relieved. I didn't want to spend my wedding reception with Manly lying dead in another room.

Ren pulled me quickly through the hallway. On the edge of the great hall, he came to an abrupt stop. He turned to me. "Give my vanity a break and smile. Marrying me can't be that revolting."

"What? You want me to stop looking like somebody died?" I rolled my eyes back toward the police officers crawling around the castle. "Do you think that's wise?"

His expression softened. "I'd like you to stop looking like you've just been given a death sentence."

"Haven't I?" I said. "Oh, wait. It's only a year. With no time off for good behavior."

"That's the spirit." He lifted his chin toward the room in front of us. "They'll expect at least one of us to say something about what just happened. About Uncle. About this, us."

I shook my head. "I can't."

"Leave it to me." He glanced ahead into the room. "Play along."

Without waiting for me to reply, he caught me beneath the knees and carried me across the threshold, whispering, "This is the best I can do. Unless you want me to carry you outside and back in?"

I couldn't help myself. The corners of my mouth turned up ever so slightly. "Carry on."

As he walked into the room with me in his arms, the musicians stopped playing. Everyone stopped talking. All eyes turned to us.

One of the members of the string quartet announced, "Ladies and gentlemen—the new Duke and Duchess of Manly."

The room erupted in polite applause. Again, Ren's romantic gesture seemed to win him points with the ladies, at least. He carried me to the head table, deposited me on my feet, and bowed to his adoring, yet suspicious, fans. As he held my chair, I realized just how much people love train wrecks, tragedy, and scandal. This would be a wedding no one would forget.

Ren remained on his feet. There was a mic on the table. He picked it up and waited for the screech of feedback to stop. "Family and friends, first of all, Bliss asked me to thank you for coming to share in the joy of both of her weddings today." He put his hand on my shoulder. Such a touching show of support.

Damn him. He was charming even now in the face of all this.

There was nervous laughter, the kind of sound people make when they find something amusing and know they shouldn't.

"Personally, I would like to thank you for staying for my wedding when even I wasn't sure I would." He shot me a quick look. "My beautiful bride seems to have a fatal effect on grooms. But there was the promise of food after."

The atmosphere relaxed further, and there were more people laughing behind their hands and trying to look solemn.

He squeezed my shoulder.

I played along and reached up to clasp his hand.

Ren smiled down at me. "I think we can all forgive Bliss for being choked up right now and letting me speak for her. As far as wedding disasters go, Bliss has been through an ordeal like no other. There's no way to joke about what happened. My uncle would have made her a kind and doting husband. Now she'll have to put up with me." The smile he gave me was dark and dazzling, an inside joke. "I'll do my best to take his place." He looked me in the eye as he bent and kissed my hand.

Kissing my hand was an affectionate gesture, but I felt the gentle brush of his lips like the scorch of a brand. I forced a shaky smile at him and dropped my hand to my lap, reminding myself that the kind of charisma Ren had was dangerous. He couldn't be trusted. Not with my heart. Not with my life.

"This is a wedding celebration, but first, I'd like to take a few minutes to remember my uncle. This should have been his celebration. His wedding. His milestone birthday." Ren paused for dramatic effect.

"My uncle was a character, but he was a man of depth and, despite all the rumors, heart and kindness. In my earliest memory of him, Papa brought Will and me from London to visit Uncle here at the castle. I was about four and impressed, as small boys are, by the sheer size of the castle. By the suits of armor, the stuffed hunting trophies on the wall, all the paintings of ancestors looking sternly down at us. So much space to run and play.

"Uncle didn't reprimand Will and me as we charged about the place. Soon he and Papa left us to our own devices. Somehow, I ended up here in this room with a permanent marker and the desire to leave my portrait on the wall, too."

He had the audience on the edge of their seats, holding their breath.

"Have permanent marker, will draw. I was fortunate Uncle found me before Papa did, or I still might not be sitting to this day." He turned and took a quick step behind him. "You'll notice this plaque is hanging at an odd spot." He quickly pulled it off its hook and pointed. "Still here."

Children's scribbles and a drawing of a person with a large head, round eyes, a wobbly smile, and arms and legs coming right out of the head, circles for hands and feet, a shock of hair, and no body.

"I give you Ren, self-portrait, age four." He stepped back to show off his work. "I was afraid of Uncle. I expected him to turn me in to Papa. Or maybe eat me."

People laughed.

"But Uncle gently took the marker away, stood back, and studied my handiwork for a moment while I trembled, waiting to be punished. To my surprise, he laughed and smiled at me. 'Nice likeness, Ren,' he said in all seriousness. He handed me the marker. 'Sign your name. Every artist should own their work.'" Ren pointed again. "Here's my signature."

Some of the women dabbed their eyes.

"Uncle took me by the hand and took me back to Papa without ever mentioning my wall art. As far as I know, he never even attempted to clean my scribbles off. Papa went to his grave not knowing what I'd done. Until now, those drawings were our secret."

I heard sniffles. I was teary-eyed myself.

"That was the kind of man my uncle was, and why Bliss and I have married. Today is Uncle's one hundredth birthday. Remember him well. May I live up to the example he set." Ren poured himself a glass of wine and raised it. "To my uncle, the late Duke of Manly, may he rest in peace."

"To the late duke," the guests echoed.

"Because of the sad circumstances, Bliss and I have decided to dispense with the usual wedding reception traditions. We'll be serving the combined wedding/birthday cake, but Bliss and I won't be cutting the first slice and feeding each other a bite. I'm not going to toss her garter. She won't throw the bouquet. No receiving line, but we'll try to get around and say a few words to each of you.

"Uncle believed in treating his guests well. And you all know how much he loved a good party. Please, eat and enjoy yourselves. Be happy for us and remember him well."