Page 111 of The Devil's Accidental Duchess
Philip had to laugh. It was probably the warmest thing his sister had said to him since he came back from the war.
Then, as everyone rose, it was time for the bride.
Selina was a heavenly vision. An angel made mortal. Her gown shimmered as she walked through the church doors on her father’s arm, her dark hair fashioned into romantic waves, pinned up on her head like a rose with just a few tresses falling to frame her face. Her cheeks were rosy, her complexion glowing, her green eyes twinkling with excitement as they met Philip’s.
“Goodness…” Zachary murmured. “That is… a beautiful woman, indeed.”
“And my soon-to-be wife, so avert your eyes,” Philip whispered out of the corner of his mouth, though his friend’s admiration could not wipe the smile off his face.
His bride really was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, as exceptional on the outside as she was on the inside.
Before long, she was standing in front of him. Her father pulled a face as he placed her hand in his, giving her away to the son of the man he had rightfully hated more than anyone else in the world. Yet Selina’s hand was the olive branch to bring peace and to heal old wounds, so that they might all forget the devil who had been Philip’s sire.
My children will never know your name. They will learn nothing about you. It will be as if you never existed, Father,Philip silently promised with a smile and a full heart as he pulled Selina that little bit closer.
“Does the clock in your bedchamber not work?” he asked with an amused smile.
Selina chuckled. “It is somewhat slow.”
“Ah, then it is fortunate that you will be sharing my chambers from tonight onward,” he said in a low voice, delighting in the deeper flush that colored her cheeks.
He had thought of their stolen moments in her room throughout the rest of the previous day, and when he had fallen asleep, he had dreamed of them.
His mind, body, heart, and soul were entirely hers, intoxicated by her, grateful for her, and looking forward to the future they would have together.
At that moment, the priest stepped forward to welcome everyone, though Philip barely gave the man a second glance. How could he, when he had an angel standing right in front of him, about to become his Duchess?
Merriment abounded on the grand terrace that had been transformed for the occasion, a long table cleared of the wedding breakfast and now filled with a veritable feast of refreshments and delicacies for the guests to pick at.
A small orchestra played a lively tune that people were dancing to, laughter and chatter drifting out across the sun-drenched estate, the guests reveling in the festivities.
Each clink of a glass made Selina’s heart sing, though she couldn’t take any credit for the celebrations. This was all Aurelia and Charity’s doing, andtheywere enjoying themselves heartily, sitting on chairs at the edge of the terrace with a few other ladies, gossiping and sipping good wine.
“If I ever marry, I hope it is like this,” Melody sighed into her glass of lemonade. “Weddings are always so stuffy and proper. This is not like that at all.”
“My grandmother arranged it. Of course, it is not proper,” Lizzy said with a smirk. “Does this mean you will muster the courage to find yourself a husband then?”
Melody blanched. “Well, no, no, I don’t think so. I just meant… hypothetically.”
“What of you, Lizzy?” Selina teased. “There are several gentlemen who keep staring at you. Surely, one of them must be tolerable enough to pique your interest?”
Lizzy shook her head. “I am quite happy here with my friends, thank you.”
“Ah, well, then you are not going to like what I am about to say,” a voice interjected as Philip stepped out of the sun room and onto the terrace.
Lizzy groaned, but her soft eyes told a different story.
“I wondered if I might borrow my wife for a while,” Philip said, offering his arm to Selina.
“Very well, but do not be long,” Lizzy replied. “Come on, Melody. I saw raspberry tarts that I would very much like to devour.”
She grabbed her friend’s arm and pulled her away toward the refreshments table, leaving Selina and Philip alone.
But it seemed that was notquitewhat Philip had in mind as he tugged Selina’s arm gently, leading her down the side of the terrace toward the steps that led down to the walled gardens.
From behind a laurel bush, a figure swayed into view, port sloshing over the side of a small glass.
“And where do you thinkyouare going?” her father slurred.
