Page 59 of His Scandalous Viscountess
She shook with fear and an utter sadness that opened a great gaping hole in her chest. All her suffering and her year of misery had ensued because a father sought to keep his son from pursuing her. Because she was too lowbrow to bear the next generation. She’d been treated contemptibly by much of London’s upper crust during her coming out. She’d been reminded regularly that she was not one of them, but she could not have fathomed that she would be considered so inconsequential that a man might marry her in order to prevent his son from doing so.
And here she was, because of that same man, being forced into a second marriage. Her gut twisted as she realized that the tactic had worked once, and would likely work again. She’d all but made up her mind before Wolf had produced this letter, but now she knew there was no other choice. There would be no dissuading Wallthorpe with more scandalous behavior. Nothing short of murder or marriage would convince him that she was unavailable.
Wolf cleared his throat. “We must marry, and right away. The sooner you are my wife, the sooner you will be protected from him.” He paused then, a slight hesitation. “I know you’ve stated you do not want—”
“Yes.” She blurted the word before she could change her mind. Before the truth of what she’d read could sink in any further, and bring any more grief to the forefront of her thoughts. “I’ll marry you.”
He continued. “No, I’m serious. It’s the—”
She stepped up to him and placed her fingers to his lips. “I’ve agreed to marry you. You’re correct, it’s the only solution.”
Having said it a second time, a strange sense of relief and sadness swept over her. The constant, gnawing worry eased even as doubts about marrying him replaced them. But at least she and her sister would be safe. Or at least she hoped they would be.
Now she need only worry about protecting her heart.
Chapter 24
Wolf paced his library as he waited for the most important moment of his life to occur. Another hour should not have mattered when he’d waited three days—no, a lifetime—for her. Unbelievably, she had said yes…finally.
Not that he could fault her for her logic, and he certainly would have preferred that she marry him for love. But that simply wasn’t possible under the circumstances.
His heart squeezed.
They were friends. They were lovers. But they were notinlove.
Or at least, she wasn’t. But now he had time—the rest of his life—to make her fall in love with him. To show her that he was worthy of her trust, and wouldn’t desert her again when she needed him most. That was something he could work with.
A knock on the door preceded Flint’s entrance. “The guests have all arrived.”
“Considering how small the affair is, that’s not hard to imagine.” Wolf grimaced.
He’d thought about delaying the ceremony in favor of a large wedding with all the pomp and circumstance to publicly solidify his claim on Julia. But she had argued—quite vociferously—in favor of an intimate gathering. One with just their friends and families. He’d finally conceded the point.
“How is the bride fairing?”
Flint’s smile was big, bordering on overbright. “She is just smashing, I hear.”
Wolf recognized the sardonic humor lurking behind Flint’s dark gaze. He knew Jules would be nervous, and possibly even having second thoughts about their union. He also knew she’d go through with it if for no other reason than to protect Ros. After all, once he and Jules were married, Ros would have his protection as well.
He ignored the feeling of having swallowed glass shards and tried to focus on the fact that he loved her. It would be enough for the moment. It simply had to be.
“How are you doing?” Flint’s inquiry was casual, too casual.
If Wolf weren’t so wrapped up in his own issues, he’d have noticed that his friend was on edge. “I’m as well as can be expected. How are you? I’ve been rather absorbed by my own issues of late.”
Flint made an obvious effort to remain relaxed, and even tried to smile. “Oh, not great, but not terrible. I could really use a trip down to the docks.”
He knew his friend visited the seedy underbelly of London regularly to let off whatever anger it was that continually built up inside of him. At times, he seemed like a powder keg about to blow, although there had been a few weeks there where he’d spent so much time with Ros that he had been more like the young man Wolf had once known. But it seemed whatever reprieve that had been granted had since faded.
“Well, I imagine after today, you shall find yourself with all sorts of free time.”
“Indeed,” Flint agreed, though he did not look as pleased about that prospect as he should.
Another knock at the door ended the conversation. Ros looked in the room. Her gaze sought Flint out unerringly. The two stared at each other for a moment, and then she looked over to Wolf. “We’re ready to start.”
Wondering what was going on between the two of them, but needing to take his place for the wedding, Wolf vowed to follow up with Flint as soon as possible. Maybe he could find a moment during the breakfast to have a few more words with his friend. Something more than the perfunctory conversation they’d just had.
With a nod, he made his way to where he had been instructed to wait for his bride. Excitement warred with his certainty that she did not love him, but regardless, this wedding would occur. So, he pushed the latter—unwanted—thought aside, and focused on the excitement, and the fact that he loved her. That was all that mattered.
