None of them knew. Not one of them had yet noticed his bride was not the woman he’d intended to marry.
He offered his arm.
For the briefest of moments, she hesitated. He felt rather than saw the small indrawn breath, the infinitesimal stiffening of her shoulders beneath the ivory silk.
Then she placed her hand upon his sleeve.
His fingers closed over hers—firm, unyielding, a pressure just shy of warning. Through the soft kid of her glove, he could feel the slight, betraying tremor of her fingers, hastily stilled.
“Smile,” he said under his breath, his voice smooth and dangerously quiet, pitched for her ear alone beneath the rising swell of the recessional. “You’ve just married a man who does not enjoy being made a fool.”
She drew in a long, deliberate breath beside him.
And then—infuriating, magnificent creature—shesmiled. A small, radiant, perfectly convincing bridal smile, calibrated for the back row of the church, untouched by anything resembling contrition.
Tristan permitted himself the smallest answering curve of his own mouth. Let them see a duke besotted. Let them see whatever served.
There would be a reckoning. There would, in fact, beseveral. But it would happen on his terms, in his time, behind doors that closed firmly upon the world.
And then, with perfect composure, he led his bride down the aisle and into their waiting carriage.
He instructed the driver to take the long way back to Somerset House. Give the guests time to arrive at the wedding breakfast and him time to come up with some manner of believable explanation. Mentally, he made a list of the details that would need to be handled before the rumor mill caught fire, as it were.
Contact the archbishop to rectify the marriage license. Send a new announcement tothe Times. Notify Mrs. Richards, his verydiscreet and loyal housekeeper, that she could, in turn, inform the rest of the staff.
Finally, he leveled his gaze at his new wife. Without the veil covering her face and the front of her body, he could easily see her very voluptuous cleavage. Perhaps there would be benefits to bedding this wife he had not considered when he’d been planning to wed Eliza.
“I expect an explanation before we arrive at Somerset House,” he said.
“It’s quite simple, your bride did not wish to marry you, and I needed a husband,” she said. Her manner of speaking was so casual, one might think she was offering her opinion on a bit of fabric.
“Did not wish to marry me,” he repeated. “Where, pray tell, is Miss Redding?”
“I suspect she is halfway to Gretna Green about now. Though admittedly, I do not know how long such a trip takes.”
“Gretna Green? Eloping with another man. Today has been full of surprises,” he muttered. “Now then, Imogen.”
She inhaled sharply. “I do not believe I’ve given you leave to use my Christian name.”
Tristan chuckled. “You lost the right to grant or deny that permission when you vowed to be my wife.”
Her mouth opened, then closed. A furrow appeared between her brows.
“Had not considered that, had you, Imogen. Tell me, what else did you not consider when you stole my wedding like a common thief?”
Chapter Four
His question rattled her. Because the truth was, she had not considered a great many things about today. She’d thought mostly of walking down that aisle without anyone the wiser that the bride was not whom everyone expected.
She tucked her shaking hands firmly beneath the folds of her skirts, where they could betray her in privacy.
For perhaps a full minute—she counted, as she had counted her steps down the aisle, because counting was the only discipline she had left—neither of them spoke. The silence inside the carriage was a curious, weighted thing, dense as wool.
Outside, the wedding party would still be spilling onto the gravel sweep before the church, exclaiming over the bride’s pallor (nerves, they would say;poor dear, the strain of it), arranging themselves into the procession of carriages that would convey them all to the breakfast at Somerset House. They had perhaps half an hour. Less, if the road was clear.
Half an hour alone with a man she had just defrauded at the altar of God.
She made herself look up.