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The ceremony passed swiftly. There were vows, shared promises that sounded far more permanent than the arrangement she and Ambrose had made. And then came the final moment. The clergyman turned toward them, his expression solemn as he delivered the words everyone had been expecting.

“You may now kiss the bride,” he announced with soft formality.

The duke did not hesitate. For one terrifying second, she wondered whether she would see that same hunger in his eyes again. She did not. Instead, he stepped closer, quickly, and leaned forward. Without otherwise touching her, he pressed his lips against hers, and withdrew almost immediately. The kiss lasted barely a second. It was detached, emotionless, and almost brutally restrained. It was nothing like the kiss of the man who had once torn helpless whimpers from her throat.

And that was perhaps a relief. Marina needed that reminder. This was not a fairytale. It was simply a stoic arrangement between two people fulfilling mutual obligations.

Twelve

“Do come to visit us soon,” Marina’s mother said later that afternoon as the family departed. How odd it was that her family was not staying longer. They had arrived only the evening before, and that morning they had taken breakfast as a family for the first time in years. Ambrose had not joined them, though she hadn’t minded.

After their kiss and the rather peculiar connection that had formed between them, she could do without her family’s commentary.

“I cannot believe there was no wedding breakfast,” Sophia complained.

“It was odd, I will say that. Getting married in a drawing room and not a chapel and in the afternoon,” Lady Dashwood chimed in as she hugged Marina.

Marina cleared her throat but her sister chimed in first. “You know His Grace does not go out into the sun. He could hardly be expected to leave the house in such sunny weather.”

“We could have waited until evening…” Sophia protested.

Marina closed her eyes. This was the sort of debate she’d hoped to avoid.

“Call on us soon. Netherton is always open to you,” her sister said and hugged her.

“Yes, please do, I worry for you in this dark place,” Sophia said and grimaced.

“I thought all the candles were quite charming,” Lady Dashwood chimed in. “But you must do something about the light. The poor baby will not like growing up in such a dim home. It can’t be good for her constitution.”

The goodbyes continued on for another twenty minutes, until Lady Dashwood declared herself utterly spent and ordered the carriages to depart.

Marina watched as they left the drive and then turned back to the house that was now her home. In her chamber, she made sure to feed Luna her dinner and then changed into a simpler, pomona green gown. Ambrose had offered a lady’s maid but she had never needed a maid before, and was not going to start now. There was a housemaid, Celeste, on whom she could call, but she was not a lady’s maid.

She had a maid when she lived at home, of course, but ever since she’d become a widow, she’d done away with all that foolishness. It wasn’t as though she could have found someone to work for her in her little cottage anyhow.

An hour later, Luna snaked in and out between Marina’s legs as she made her way toward the stairs.

“You should make me follow the moon,” she said. “And nobody needs that.”

Luna meowed up at her as they reached the stairs, and then she bounced down, as elegantly as only a cat could. At the bottom of the stairs, she waited and turned back as if looking to lead Marina somewhere.

“Why the complaints?” she asked. “You already ate dinner. It is my turn now.”

Another meow was her reply. It seemed Luna already knew where they were going because she headed straight for the dining room.

This would be their first time dining together as husband and wife. She entered the room and saw that Ambrose was already there. In fact, he was halfway through the first course. She paused.

“Is it not customary for husband and wife to dine together?” she said.

She saw the corners of his mouth lift. “I assumed you wished to eat on your own.”

“Why would I wish to eat alone in my chamber? What is the purpose of that?”

The truth was, she had considered asking for a tray to be brought up to her. But she had been alone for six years, and one of the reasons she had wanted to be married was for the companionship. She was not entirely sure if she wanted his companionship yet, because he could be quite infuriating. The thought of a husband and wife eating in separate rooms didn’t seem right, especially since they would have to eat together once Emma was older. Otherwise, what kind of example would they be setting?

To her surprise, he rose and pulled out the chair beside his, and she slipped into it.

“So you do not like eating on your own?”