His Perfect Game (12 page)

“Does Father know?”

“I have never told him, but I suspect he does. After our wedding night, he . . . he treated me differently.”

“And since then, has there been anyone else?” She didn’t speak above a whisper, as she could barely bring herself to ask the question. Was the duke not her true father?

“No. Since that one time, your father is the only man I have allowed near me. The act isn’t something I seek out. Besides, your father would not hesitate to kill me if I even entertained the thought.”

Hanging her head down, Abigail realized her mother spoke the truth. The duke was her father. He wasn’t a man who would accept unfaithfulness from his wife.

Her stomach churned as a ringing sounded in her ears. Hearing of the act made her wish she’d never met Lord Merrick. He would be the one doing the horrible things to her tonight. She swallowed the bile rising in her throat and worked to force a smile.

“If you survived it,” she said in a trembling voice, “I believe I can manage as well. I’ll simply lie still. After all, I’m accustomed to pain.”

Although her words were meant to soothe, her mother burst into tears. Abigail reached out to comfort her, but her mother pushed her hand away.

“I don’t want to ruin your dress,” her mother said shakily after the worst of her tears subsided. “I’m sorry you had to suffer so much. I only hope your husband will be kind.”

“I’m sure he will,” Abigail assured with more confidence than she felt. “Remember he has already agreed to allow me to live at Merrick alone.”

“Yes, he will be kind as he has already shown you. Everything will be all right. Don’t fret.”

Abigail squeezed her mother’s hand, drawing comfort from her presence. This new knowledge of her wedding night only served to increase her nervousness for the upcoming evening. She once again wondered why women, or men for that matter, would willingly do such a thing if not for heirs.

“Does the pain extend to the man as well?” Abigail blurted.

“No. Therein lies the problem. Since it awards him a great pleasure, he may wish to engage in the act often. As wives, we have little choice in the matter.”

“I see.”

“Enough about that. Today is your wedding day. Soon you will no longer be just a duke’s daughter. You shall be a viscountess.”

Her mother’s discomfort seemed to clear as she stood and assisted Abigail to her feet. It was time. The luncheon had been served, and her groom awaited her at the church.

Greyson paced the stifling room in the back of St. George’s. The wedding day had finally arrived. Though he’d thought to be more excited.

The luncheon he’d hosted only hours ago had turned out to be more of a success than he’d expected. His servants had to frantically work to find places to seat all the guests who had not previously notified them of their intention to arrive. At any other time, he would have been irritated, but to have so many at his first official event had been worth the trouble.

Glancing at his watch fob, Greyson sighed. He had another twenty minutes to wait until the wedding began. He had not encountered Lady Willimena since the dinner at Richard’s, and he felt anxious to see her now. Reminders of how he was most likely the last person she wanted to see stabbed at him, but he ignored the pain. Regardless, the wedding would go on.

A knock at the door brought both Richard and Jonathan, who would be standing for him. Both his friends wore similar expressions of happiness, and he wished he could return the sentiment.

“How does it feel to be minutes away from a leg-shackling?” Jonathan asked, then grunted as Richard elbowed him in the ribs.

“Having a wife isn’t nearly as unpleasant as you make it out to be,” Richard explained. “You will soon agree with me, Greyson.”

“I have no doubt,” Greyson replied dryly. “I’m simply anxious to have the ceremony over and am looking forward to the dinner at Richard’s. The brandy is always superb and the company excellent.”

“On your wedding day, surely you are looking forward to much more than Richard’s subpar offerings.” Jonathan continued ignoring Richard’s claims of outrage. “I, for one, would be anxious for the offerings from your wife.”

“At present she isn’t my wife, and I refuse to discuss such with you.”

Jonathan and Richard laughed.

“I remember a time when—”

“Jonathan,” Richard warned. “Surely you can behave yourself this one time.”

“I’ll do my best.” Jonathan settled back in a chair, but didn’t lose his smirk.

“Well, Greyson, your luncheon turned out a success. I was impressed by the large number of attendees.”

“It’s remarkable how mention of the duke changes people’s preconceived notions. During the betrothal I received a few invitations, but after the wedding I’m expecting a number of others.”

“At the moment you have quite a few people backing your acceptance into society, and I’m sure your marriage will secure more.” Richard clapped him on the back and gave him a smile.

Jonathan stood up to join them again. “I’m pleased for you, my friend. However, I will say if your wedding ceremony is as boring as Richard’s, I’ll cause a commotion. It will provide you with unique memories to reflect upon for many years to come.”

“Don’t solidify your plans as of yet. Until our names are on that license, I’m not entirely convinced everything will run as smoothly as expected.”

“My lord,” a servant called, “your presence is requested in the church.”

Greyson nodded then the three friends filed out of the room and up the aisle to take the customary place beside the minister. Standing there, taking in all the smiling faces, felt surreal. So many nights had been spent maneuvering and planning this, and the moment had finally arrived. All these people had come to witness and celebrate the occasion with him.

The music began, bringing the joyous melody to precede his bride. Greyson’s chest tightened around his wildly pumping heart. And then
she
arrived.

Lady Willimena slowly approached him in the most extravagant gown he had ever seen her wear. Similar to her other ensembles, this one exhibited her modesty, with fabric covering her clear up to her neck. He decided he liked the mystery she presented. All wrapped up and waiting for him.

As she neared him, he noticed how her face, although tinted yellow by the dress, lacked her usual color. The sight worked like cold water, cooling his ardor and washing away his thoughts. He’d almost allowed himself to be swept up in the thrill of the day and forgotten how much his bride didn’t wish to marry him.

Steeling himself against emotion, he kept his eyes on her as her father brought her to him. His cool demeanor didn’t fade as the duke sanctioned the union in front of everyone gathered, nor did it diminish as the minister recited the words sealing his bride to him.

The intoxicating scent of the flowers surrounded them and offered him tangible proof the events were truly taking place. Unable to restrain himself any longer, Greyson glanced down at Lady Willimena. Her gaze fixed upon the minister, and she didn’t appear to be aware of anyone else in the room.

Greyson focused back on the minister as the marriage license was presented. He willingly signed his name and watched as his bride neatly penned hers under his. Satisfaction flooded him and enlarged his chest. It was over now. Lady Willimena had become his wife, and his connection to the duke was solidified.

Facing the crowd, Greyson took his wife’s arm and led her through the people and out the doors of St. George’s. As soon as their feet met the steps, Greyson halted. The exuberance of the cheers greeting them astounded him.

Instead of rushing into the waiting carriage, he stood, wanting to soak in the sounds of approval. As he slowly led his bride forward, he tossed coins to the crowd. Their gratefulness caused them to cheer louder.

After handing his wife into the carriage, he climbed in and leaned back against the seat. This moment would be complete perfection if his bride harbored even the slightest desire to be with him.

“How do you feel, Lady Merrick?” he asked, loving the sound of her new name.

“A bit overwhelmed, my lord. And you?”

“I’m pleased with the day.”

Her hands clasped together in her lap, and she didn’t make eye contact with him. He didn’t understand what had changed so drastically between them. The last time they shared a private moment, she seemed at ease around him and even welcomed his presence. Now she looked like she wanted to be anywhere but with him.

“Is there something amiss?” he could not refrain from asking.

“Everything is fine.” Her smile didn’t reach her eyes.

Determined to not allow her dislike of him to ruin his pleasure at the culmination of his plans, he stopped trying to engage her in conversation. His hands itched to shuffle his cards, but he resisted the urge. Producing the cards at this time would appear to be gloating on his win against her father.

With his bride in such a mood, his pleasure at the upcoming events had been damaged. Closing his eyes, he pressed his head back against the carriage wall. He still wanted their wedding to be the event of the Season, and he would endure any discomfort to ensure success.

As soon as the carriage arrived at Richard’s townhouse, Greyson guided his bride inside and began to drift among the guests. The positive responses from the people bolstered his spirits and confirmed he had achieved his dream.

“Merrick,” the duke called. “I wonder if I may have a private word with you.”

Greyson nodded and led the way to the library. He knew what the duke wanted, and he agreed the time had arrived to settle their business. Although reluctant at times, he had to admit the duke upheld his end of the bargain admirably.

“I’m sure you are aware of what I wish to discuss,” the duke began as Greyson closed the door.

“Your vowels, I presume.”

“I have done my part and now that the wedding is over, so is our business.”

Greyson withdrew the parchment with the duke’s scrawl out of his coat pocket and handed it to him. He knew his temporary power over the duke had ended. The only thing he could do now was hope the man would not retaliate and cause potential harm to his daughter. She remained the only leverage he possessed.

“You have aided me more than I imagined,” Greyson acknowledged.

“I hope you realize I will no longer go out of my way to assist you. I must say, at first I relished the idea of ruining you at this moment. However, I don’t believe doing so will suit me any longer.”

Greyson remained emotionless as his eyes pierced the duke. If he changed his mind and acted on his plan, Greyson would have to hope the reputation he built could withstand the attack.

“A man must do what he must.”

The duke laughed. “That is one thing I like about you. This arrangement has proven more beneficial to me than I expected. You have removed a problem from my house, and I believe she deserves you.”

Although Greyson didn’t understand what he meant by his statement, he refused to ask. The bargain appeared to have been prosperous for them both, and that being the case, Greyson wanted the duke to remember it.

“I hope your daughter feels as though she received what she deserves as well.”

“If not, the task is left to you.” He laughed again. “During the short reprieve between dinner and the ball, I have invited several guests to join me at Everett House. I would like to extend the invitation to you and your wife.”

“Thank you. We will be happy to accept.”

“Good. Why don’t we join the others? I’m famished.”

As the two gentlemen returned to the drawing room, Greyson thought only of his bride. Would she thank him for the offer to spend more time with her family? Originally he’d intended to take her to Thorpe House, but after the carriage ride, he didn’t imagine she wished to be alone with him any more than necessary.

Their marriage already had a bad start, and nothing he could do would repair it.

Willimena Abigail Thorpe, Viscountess Merrick, entered her father’s house with a sense of detachment. As she took in the familiar setting, she realized the place would never feel the same again. This house would no longer contain her. Her father could not touch her, for she no longer bore his name.

Glancing through the corner of her eye at her husband, she shuddered. Every time she looked at him, she saw images of him unclothed and leaning over her as her mother described. From the severe expression he’d worn the majority of the day, she wasn’t surprised he intended to cause her pain that very evening. Even his choice to spend the only break they’d had today with her father added to her suffering.

She had been looking forward to a moment when she didn’t have to be the center of attention. The compliments on her gown had made enduring the weight almost worth it, but what more would she be forced to endure? Would she be able to walk by the end of the ball?

“I’m so glad you came,” Julia greeted her. “I wasn’t sure what your plans were, but I hoped I would get a chance to talk to you.”

“I’m glad to see you as well. After spending the day speaking with countless people I don’t know, it’s a pleasure to see a familiar face.”

Julia led her to some unoccupied chairs where Abigail gratefully sat.

“That gown looks heavy. I remember my wedding day. Nothing could compare to my anxiousness for Winston to take the dress off of me.”

Her cousin’s wink caused her face to heat. In all the talks with Julia where she alluded to intimate time with her husband, she’d never expressed discomfort in the act. Abigail wanted to ask her cousin about her experience, but bit her tongue. Not only would it be an inappropriate question, but they could be overheard.

“I do long to remove it, but I would be satisfied with the assistance of a maid.”

“Why are you not happy today? Considering how you feel about your husband, I would have thought you would be as joyous as I was.” Julia lightly touched Abigail’s shoulder in a comforting manner.

“I’ll admit I do like Lord Merrick, but I can’t see how that would bring me happiness. I’m only anxious for this all to be over, so I can be removed to the country.”

“Oh, I see.” Julia pitched her voice low. “You are worried about the wedding night. Don’t be.”