“Why not?” he said with a shrug. “I didn’t see any reason to wait.”
And the truth was he could not wait to get Beatrice in his bed. A quick marriage was the only answer. The fact that they would get to explore the passion their kiss suggested was an added benefit.
He was slightly surprised that Beatrice had agreed to it, but she did not seem to have any silly notions about an elaborate wedding or a grand marriage.
No—quite wonderfully, she had suggested a beautiful place near the city, in a small but stunning Christopher Wren church. She’d also requested only his brothers, Margaret, and her uncle attend.
It would be intimate, simple, honest, earnest, perfect. And given the haste? It was bold.
Just like Beatrice.
Chapter Sixteen
“I swear, day is night and night is day, and the ocean has turned to dust.” Margaret beamed, the morning light dancing over her shining face. As she arranged the flowers in the wedding bouquet, she exclaimed, “Beatrice, are you truly getting married? Today?!”
“Indeed I am,” Beatrice replied, hardly believing it herself. “Life is full of surprises, is it not?”
Margaret’s eyes widened, and she laughed her beautiful bell laugh. “Surprises? Miracles, more like; but when I saw you kissing him, I knew. I knew in my heart of hearts that he was the one for you.”
Margaret crossed to her cousin and placed the bouquet on her dressing table so that she could arrange Beatrice’s pelisse. “I cannot believe you are marrying before me, let alone at all. I keep thinking I will wake and find it all to be a strange dream.”
“Are you angry with me?” Beatrice bit her lower lip, her insides tight. She cared about Margaret so much, and she knew the rush of her own wedding had come as quite a shock. “For superseding your day?”
“Don’t be absurd!” Margaret exclaimed before blushing. “Well, there might have been a single moment in which I found myself wondering at it. But I am not angry. How could I be? If you’re to be happy.”
Beatrice let out a sigh of relief. “I would understand if you were put out. You’ve already planned so much of your wedding. Your name was on all of London’s lips. Now…mine is.”
Margaret gave her a kind smile. “I’m not marrying Kit to be noticed by the ton. Oh, I hope everyone is happy at my wedding breakfast. But the point of it is to celebrate our union. Just as you are about to do! Don’t you wish you had a bit more time? You could have a grand wedding. He is a duke, after all.”
She blanched. “I think if we had more time, we’d both find a reason not to.”
Margaret’s brow furrowed. “You cannot mean that. I’ve seen you two together.”
“Neither of us wished to wed.”
“Yet—”
Beatrice groaned, then laughed and adjusted her spectacles. “Never fear. We both have chosen this with clear sight.”
Margaret’s lips twitched. “Could you two do anything else?” As she smoothed the buttons, she said, “Truth be told, despite the surprise and rapidity of the date, I’m so glad that you have yielded to your love for him. And he you.”
Beatrice all but yelped, “Oh! I don’t love him. And he certainly doesn’t love me.” Her heart raced at the very idea. How absurd. Truly. She drew in a breath and said steadily, “This is simply a marriage of convenience.”
Margaret pulled back and frowned. “What could possibly be convenient about it?”
Beatrice swallowed, uncertain how to answer. “Can I not alter my hopes and desires?”
Folding her arms over the golden belt just under her breasts that complemented her peach morning gown, Margaret pointed out with little of her usual sweetness, “Of course you may, but you have always been so adamant. You don’t like the idea of marriage. It turns a woman into property and all that. You’ll have no say over your children and those kinds of things. You’re always telling me about it.”
Beatrice let out a sigh and bit the inside of her cheek. She tried to pull at her gloves, a sheer sign of prevarication. But what was she to do? She was in the most terrible predicament with her cousin.
She’d never kept anything from Margaret before, and it felt wrong.
And she did not do things she felt wrong.
“None of that has changed,” she said quickly. “I will be his property. My children will be his property. And you’re right; technically, I shall have no say over anything, but William is not that sort of man.”
She smiled at her cousin, wanting to reassure her and ease her mind. “And I insisted that the funds he allows me—which are considerable—and my ability to do what I like with said funds be put in our marriage contract. If he violates it, he shall not have a legal leg to stand on. Truly, I shall have a great deal of freedom in the end.”