And, sitting there, if Katherine were being entirely truthful, even with just herself, she could admit that she too had longed for something more than a marriage of convenience.
~16~
When Katherine’s father, the Earl of Wakefield had died, a heavy pall hung like the thickest rain cloud upon their household. Shortly after she’d learned of his sudden death, she’d been seated in his office, perched on the edge of a leather winged-back chair, with the ormolu clock atop the fireplace mantle tick-tocking a steady beat. She still remembered the emptiness of that dark day.
Standing at the center of that same room, Katherine considered how very like that day was to this, her wedding day. She stole a sideways peek up at Jasper. Attired in his customary black jacket, black breeches, stark white waistcoat, and gleaming black Hessians, with his too-long black strands of hair shoved back behind his ears, he put Katherine in mind of that fallen angel Lucifer, cast from the gates of Heaven.
His shoulders stiffened, as if he felt her stare upon his person, but his gaze remained trained on the small vicar officiating the services.
Her gaze slid away, over to the spot her mother and Anne occupied upon the brown, Italian leather sofa. They sat, with like expressions of pained regret carved upon their faces.
“Madam,” Jasper bit out.
Katherine jumped, and heat flooded her cheeks as she realized the time had come to recite vows which would forever bind her to this dark, near stranger. Her mouth grew dry as the implications of this vow registered. In wedding Jasper, she’d forever be tied to him. The buried hopes she’d only just now acknowledged surfaced, with images of a gentleman who loved her and read poetry to her while their children played at their feet.
She sprung forward on her feet, feeling much like a bird poised for flight.
The gentleman alongside Jasper coughed into his hand.
Katherine looked at the Marquess of Guilford. He met her gaze and gave a gentle smile. Something in his eyes, a silent encouragement, the promise that she was not wrong in her decision this day, strengthened her resolve.
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“I, Katherine Adamson…” She proceeded to recite the remainder of her vows.
Jasper frowned, and she wondered if he’d expected her to cry off. He clearly didn’t know she was a woman with too much honor to ever jilt her respective bridegroom.
Then, in the presence of her mother, sister, and the Marquess of Guilford, and in the absence of her brother, Benedict, sister Aldora and her husband, Michael, Lady Katherine Adamson became the Duchess of Bainbridge. She expected she should feel…something; a new bride’s excitement or jittery nervousness…not this…this…emptiness.
There was a flurry of signing required of her and Jasper, completed in silence. The only occasional utterances were spoken by the Marquess of Guilford to the vicar.
She studied her husband as he bent over a sheet of parchment and scribbled his name in the requisite places. He tossed the pen down atop the desk. “It is done,” he said quietly.
It is done.
No, that wasn’t quite right—it was merely the beginning of the rest of her life.
He held his arm out to Katherine. She studied it, unblinking and then placed her fingers atop his coat sleeves.
Mother scurried to her feet, a brittle smile on her lips. “Cook has prepared a splendid wedding feast—”
“No,” Jasper said his tone harsh.
Mother blinked. “Your Grace.”
“There will be no breakfast. The air is thick with snow, and if we are to reach my estate, we’ll need to leave posthaste.”
Katherine’s hand fell back to her side. She angled her head and tried to make sense of Jasper’s words. When she’d thought of marriage to him, she’d known they would live together, most assuredly in the country, considering his recent revelation about London. “But it is very nearly Christmas,” she blurted. Five pairs of eyes swiveled in Katherine’s direction, and panic began to build within her chest. “I imagined we would spend the holiday with my family,” she said on a rush. “Aldora and…”
Jasper narrowed his eyes. “Aldora?”
Oh God, he is still a stranger to me, as I am to him. He’s not even met my sister. “And Michael. And then there is Benedict, who will be coming soon.”
The Marquess of Guilford looked at her with such a pitying expression in his warm blue eyes, but the kind gesture only fueled her panic.
“Isn’t that right, Mother?” Katherine swung to face her mother and sister. “Surely Benedict should have arrived already but he will be so disappointed if we do not remain for Christmas.”