Page 57 of Love, the Duke
How would she react to a sting? He usually had a red bump of swelling appear almost immediately and last for a couple of days. He imagined one on her beautiful cheek. And then he imagined several. No. Not if he could help it.
Only one thing to do. Hurst was going to have to slip his hand under her veil and see what he could do before the bee realized it was trapped and decided to fly. And he had to do it without alerting his beautiful bride.
The vicar cleared his throat and prompted, “You are supposed to say, ‘I will,’ Your Grace.”
“I will,” he answered hastily without taking his eyes off the bee.
He whispered, “Don’t move.”
He felt her go rigid and she cut her eyes over to him after obviously hearing something to be alarmed about in his voice.
“Is there a grass snake at my feet?”
“No. Be still.”
From her profile he saw her eyes widen. “A spider on my shoulder? What is it?”
“Trust me,” he whispered, trying to will her to listen to him for once in her life.
Assuming everyone’s eyes were on the vicar, Hurst slowly eased his hand up, and gently slid his hand under the bottom of the veil.
Slowly and steadily, Hurst moved his hand beneath the fabric until, in a flash, he swept the bee into the palm of his hand and loosely closed his fingers around it. He swallowed a grunt. Damn, the sting pinged him good as the bee buzzed and frantically fluttered about as if enclosed in a glass jar. The vicar started coughing. Ophelia watched Hurst open his fist and the bee flew away. Gasps sounded around the guests as they witnessed what was happening.
The vicar mumbled apologies for coughing and thedisrupting of the insect, and continued with, “in sickness and in health; and forsaking all others keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?”
“I will,” she answered.
“You need to take her hand in yours, Your Grace, and repeat after me.”
Hurst stretched out his hand to her. They both saw the budding red welt in the center of his palm. She glanced back into his eyes and whispered, “I trust you, Your Grace.”
He smiled and took hold of her hand.
After the ceremony, congratulations circulated among the guests while the staff served chilled champagne on silver trays. Hurst and Ophelia received good wishes and blessings for a long and fruitful marriage as everyone gathered around them at once. Thankfully no one commented on the muddled words of the vows but much was said about the bee.
Mere weeks ago, Hurst couldn’t have imagined his wedding to a lady he’d rejected in a terse missive to an old friend. And yet here she was standing at his side, having absolved him of his lack of judgment in not coming to meet her or to see her brother. But truth be told, her forgiveness came at a price. She needed his help to do something he loathed to do. He knew all about houses being searched and looked through and things being taken away. Yet, he would honor her request until her pursuit ended.
Taking her arm and linking it through his, Hurst led them through the guests and made introductions where necessary as quickly as possible and moved on. Ophelia’s mother seemed quite content, having engaged herself in conversation with Rick’s mother in the shade of a tree.
Determination to be a gentleman on this day fell by thewayside when, without preamble, Hurst steered Ophelia through a set of open double doors and into the house. And on the way, taking a glass of champagne from a tray. Sunshine slanted across the polished floor as if it were a pathway that led them to a quiet nook.
“Here, Ophelia.” He pressed the glass into her gloved hand. “Have a sip.”
Looking at him through lowered lashes, then directly into his eyes, she noted, “The last time I held a glass of liquor, you took it away from me. And with censure.”
Under a soft chuckle, he admitted, “Yes, I did. But today is different. We are celebrating.”
Hurst reveled in the mischievous smile she gifted him as she took a taste, then rubbed the underside of her nose with her gloved fingers before taking another then giving him the glass back. “If I am going to present myself worthy to bear the name Duchess and to bear your heir to the title, I best not indulge more until later in the evening.”
Her innocent beauty took his breath. And his heart. With a furrow of his brows, he refused to recognize he may just have fallen in love with her, right here and now.
As he had her to himself, warmth heated his skin. He didn’t want to escort her back to the reception just yet. He set the champagne aside. The quick kiss after he had attended to her veil, making sure he secured the delicate netting away from her face, wasn’t nearly enough to satisfy his hunger for her. He was eager for more kisses, and there was a long afternoon of celebration ahead of them.
“Thank you for what you did during the ceremony.” Her eyes shimmered with gratitude. “Had I known there was a bee inside my veil, I would have tried to flee its vengeful sting, and I’d be standing in front of you with my hat and my pride in shambles.”
“I wouldn’t allow an insect to sting my bride.”
Her blue eyes swept across his face. “I’m glad you didn’t damage its wings, and it was able to fly away.”
