Her Secondhand Groom(18)

He closed his eyes, folded his arms, and slunk down in his seat. It was of no account now. He’d already acted the part of the beastly lord. He couldn’t do anything about it now except be more mindful of her feelings when he went to speak to her father. No doubt returning to her family home tonight would be humiliating for her; therefore, he needed to handle this as tactfully as possible. It was the least he owed her for being so nasty to her at the church.

His thoughts swirled together and trailed off as he relived those few minutes where he lifted her veil and saw her face. Once, when he was a boy of twelve, he’d gotten into a fight at Harrow and was delivered a swift punch in the breadbasket. Raising that veil this morning had the exact same effect on him. In one brief second, he’d gone from feeling in control of everything to having an empty feeling spread over him as the very air was knocked from his lungs. It was terrible.

But not as terrible as the anger that soon followed.

Unfortunately, he’d taken that anger out on the wrong person.

Or so he hoped.

No, or so she hoped.

If he found out she’d had more to do with this than he thought, he’d―

The carriage lurched and Patrick nearly ended up on the floor.

Kate giggled and brought her hand to her mouth with a loud smack in an effort to stifle her laughter.

It didn’t work.

Repositioning himself on the squabs, Patrick murmured an apology followed by a brief sentence about woolgathering. He snorted. Woolgathering was not the word for what he’d been doing. He’d been brooding and he knew it. He was at such a loss for what exactly had happened this morning and who exactly was to blame he could hardly think straight. But one thing was certain, by the end of the day he’d have the whole truth and would no longer be thinking in circles.

But until then he’d have to play the part of the happy bridegroom and host this blasted wedding breakfast.

After that, he’d get his answers and may the Lord show mercy on the culprit.





Chapter 6





Juliet exhaled. That did nothing to settle her nerves as she sat down next to Lord Drakely for their sham of a wedding breakfast. Never once had she expected to actually be sitting in the chair reserved for the bride of this particular wedding. She just hadn’t. She had assumed he’d raise the veil and put a stop to the wedding.

She’d also assumed that part of the ceremony would come before they said their vows.

There was nothing she could do about it now. She’d overheard him request a meeting with Father after the breakfast. Surely he’d inform Father he wished to seek an annulment, then she could resume her simple life again.

For the most part anyway.

She still bristled at the fact he’d called her a fraud without even hearing the facts. He was the one who ought to be ashamed of his behavior and deserved to be called demeaning names, not her. But all things considered, it was unimportant. The important thing now was to get through this meal then find a way to live through the rest of the day holding onto even a thread of dignity.

To her left, Mother and Henrietta chatted incessantly about the wedding, while, to her right, Lord Drakely was talking across the table with some cousin of his, Sir Wallace or something like that, about some other wedding which had taken place recently. One where Sir Wallace had been the groom. Just where was his wife, then? She shrugged. She really wasn’t that interested. She dropped her eyes to her plate. Neither conversation taking place in either direction of her held much appeal. She’d rather eat her meal in silence and occasionally catch glimpses of the guests who seemed completely oblivious to the tension between the new bride and groom.

Risking a glance to her right, Juliet’s gaze fell on her groom. He really was a handsome man even if his personality was a tad on the beastly side. Truly, he was a sight to feast one’s eyes on. Unfortunately for him, Juliet had never been swayed by a handsome face. Having grown up as what most would consider to be ordinary, she’d learned external beauty was the last thing a person should use to form an accurate opinion of another’s personality. Often, hidden behind some of the handsomest faces were the most rotten of personalities. To help prove this point, one had to look no further than Lord Drakely.

She sighed. Perhaps he didn’t really have such an awful personality. Mayhap it was just around her the beast in him came out. Both times they’d encountered each other for more than five seconds he’d been rather unfriendly. But nobody else seemed to think so. Or at least nobody ever said so.

“Are you going to eat, dear?” Mother asked, gesturing to her plate of untouched food.

“I’m not hungry,” Juliet said honestly.