She Hid Under a Table to Escape a Matchmaker — The Duke Was Already There
Chapter 18
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The wedding morning arrived with a pale sky and a mother who insisted she was not going to cry until she had already begun.Gilbert waited at the church, certain of what he wanted and less certain of what to do with his hands. Osric watched him adjust one cuff three times."It is still there," he said."Thank you. I thought you might appreciate confirmation."Gilbert laughed, and the tension in his shoulders eased enough for him to breathe properly.Then Daphne came in. He forgot about the cuff. She saw his face and found herself smiling before she had reached him. Her father placed her hand in his, kissed her cheek, and stepped away with an expression that made her love him fiercely.For once, neither Daphne nor Gilbert had a remark ready. They spoke the words they had come to speak. His hand was warm around hers. When the ceremony ended, she turned towards him and discovered that being his wife felt both astonishing and like the next perfectly ordinary thing she had wanted to do.At the wedding breakfast, Osric kept his speech short enough to alarm nobody and personal enough to make Gilbert look down at his plate for a moment. Winnie caught Daphne's eye across the flowers. Their mother cried again. Mr. Dunford, who had been invited because everyone now enjoyed his company, offered a useful observation about the wine and did not mention preserves once.Later, a guest asked how the Duke and his bride had first become acquainted. Daphne glanced at Gilbert."At my sister's wedding gathering," she said.He nodded solemnly. "Over a shared meal."It was several minutes before either could look directly at the other again.By late afternoon, they had been congratulated, advised, kissed, and called for so often that Daphne began wondering whether the married state contained any possibility of sitting down.Gilbert found her beside the drawing-room door. "Will you come with me?"She took his hand. "With pleasure."He led her to the little room at the back of the house. Somebody had left a plate there and a pot of tea. The ugly chairs stood in their accustomed places. Beyond the window, the garden was beginning to come into leaf.Daphne looked at the plate. "Chicken sandwiches." She turned to her husband. "You remembered an important part of the occasion."He sat on the window seat, and she settled beside him, arranging the dress so they could both reach the tea. For a few minutes, they ate without explaining anything to anybody.Then she leaned against his shoulder. "A remarkably comfortable hiding place."He kissed her temple. "I am hoping you'll stay."She lifted her face to his and answered in a way that made the sandwiches wait. When they finally drew apart, she began laughing at the crumb on his coat. He brushed at the wrong place, made matters worse, and gave up long enough to put an arm around his wife.Then he moved over so she could sit a little closer.