She was glad to have something to occupy her hands, and the footmen came to collect her trunks in what hardly seemed like any time at all. She slipped Henry into his leather lead, and they headed down to the foyer to meet the rest of her family.
Andrew was already waiting, and she heard the distinct sound of the carriage pulling up as she and Henry came down into the foyer.
Her brother turned and stopped, shifting from one foot to the other.
“You needn’t be so nervous, brother. I’m only getting married.”
Andrew’s mouth tightened, but she saw a flash of mirth in his eyes.
The ride to the chapel where Ashbourne requested the ceremony take place was uneventful. Louisa and Jo both insisted on sitting next to her, which left Henry between Andrew and Viv, which Eliza believed no one enjoyed, most of all Henry.
They arrived without incident, however, and her sisters poured from the carriage, already jabbering to one another that there had better be some nice flowers arranged. Even if it was decided a smaller ceremony would be better given the timing at the last gasp of the season, it should at least appear noble.
Eliza really couldn’t have cared. Her mind kept drifting to where Ashbourne had said they were going for the summer. Ashbourne Manor was nestled in a village just to the east of Brighton. They’d be spending the summer on the shore. She’d never spent a summer on the shore. She gathered up Henry’s lead so Andrew could slip past the dog. He paused though and turned a soft smile in her direction.
She reached out a hand and placed it on his arm.
“You needn’t worry so, brother. I’m going to be just fine.”
“But I must worry. It’s my job to do so now.” His tone was neutral, but she heard the underlying cadence of steel, and it reassured her. Andrew would never allow anything to happen to his sisters.
Soon she was alone in the carriage, and she tugged on Henry’s lead to tell him it was time to leave. But suddenly an unexpected tug of apprehension gripped her. Sitting there alone in the carriage, her sisters jarring voices pattering on just beyond the open door. Andrew’s more muffled voice as he greeted—
He was speaking to Ashbourne.
The apprehension grew until she feared she’d not be able to move. Her chest heaved, and her skin prickled. In her mind, her plan was sterile and objective. Here it was not so much. Here it was very real, and it involved her marrying a duke.
Then Ashbourne appeared in the open doorway, and she forgot entirely how to breathe.
He wore a jacket of deep blue, a simple waistcoat and cravat, that cut a dashing line. He could have stepped from a novel, and Eliza’s breathing constricted even more.
Until Ashbourne smiled.
It wasn’t a seductive smile. Not that she would have thought he’d be inclined to such a thing when it came to her. No, this was a mischievous smile.
He reached into a pocket and withdraw a folded handkerchief from which he withdrew—
A piece of ham.
Henry whined.
“My good man, Henry,” Ashbourne said. “Are you ready to be married?”
The ceremony felt unusually stilted, but as he’d avoided any wedding he possibly could in the past seven years, he wasn’t entirely sure what a wedding ceremony was like.
Eliza seemed content. He wasn’t sure she was the type of person to exude enthusiasm for a wedding ceremony. Perhaps if he handed her a puppy, she’d be elated, but he just felt wedding ceremonies were not to her liking. Henry sat obediently by her side, which had caused a great deal of whispering among the guests, which he’d enjoyed immensely.
If he were to be forced to wed, at least he would get some kind of enjoyment out of it.
The wedding breakfast was an even greater trial as members of the ton deemed necessary to invite as guests paraded past he and his new wife to express their well wishes. The entire affair was interminable, and he found himself longing for the ride to Glenhaven where at least he would find some peace and quiet to at least examine his own thoughts.
Sebastian’s words continued to trip through his mind, and no matter how he tried to push them from his thoughts, he simply couldn’t. He found himself studying Eliza through the entire ceremony and wedding breakfast, determined to find something to refute his friend’s advice. Surely it was simply a matter of physical attraction that could keep an appropriate distance between them.
But as he stood next to her, he couldn’t help but notice how she smelled of lilacs and wondered if she had acquired a new soap for her toilette for he was sure Eliza was not the type to dally in perfumes or colognes. She was, however, wearing a new gown. He could tell by the lack of staining along the cuffs, which he was coming to understand was from the dog drool she acquired when working with Henry. The dog deposited a great deal of moisture on the giver’s hand and wrist when given a treat he was coming to discover from the few times he had rewarded the dog with a morsel.
When they were finally seated for the meal, Eliza leaned into him, and he tried not to think about lilacs.
“Your Grace, I don’t mean to intrude, but I noticed your family is not in attendance.”
“Dax,” he whispered in reply.
She straightened ever so slightly as if the intimacy of his given name were enough to upset her.
“Dax.” She said his name as if testing out a foreign word, and he drew far too much pleasure from it.
“My mother largely keeps to her ancestral home on the Isle of Skye. She sends her blessing and hopes to one day make your acquaintance.”
She stiffened beside him. “Is your relationship with your mother…strained?”
“Not at all.” He nodded at an earl he only dimly recollected seeing in the chambers of Parliament. “My mother is a daft, flighty old bird who prefers stalking to the ballrooms of London.” He turned his smile on her. “I quite enjoy her company.”
His wife blinked, her mouth relaxed as she seemed to contemplate this.
“And the rest of your family?”
He gave a shrug. “I have cousins here and yon, but we’re not particularly close. We all grew up at rather different times. It, unfortunately, prevented a true bond from forming.”
“That’s so sad.” Her words were soft, and he looked at her to ensure he’d heard her correctly. She licked her lips and added, “It’s just that family can be so important. It’s good to have someone always there to rely on.”
Since his father’s death some six years previously, Dax had largely been alone in the world. He hadn’t really noticed as the reach of a duke was powerful, and he’d had little cause to rely on anyone else.
“But wouldn’t you agree sometimes one’s family is not the greatest source of comfort?”
Her eyes narrowed, and a line appeared along her brow. He’d upset her when he truly hadn’t meant to. He didn’t realize how important family was to her, but he supposed he should have figured as she had an overabundance of siblings.
He reached beneath the table to find her hand and drew it into his. She gave a sharp inhalation, but had he not been sitting so close, he wouldn’t have noticed. But he did notice, and her reaction to his touch had his gut clenching. Her hand was small and delicate in his, and he wished nothing more than to remove her glove and feel her soft skin against his.