Four Nights With the Duke by Eloisa James Page B

Vander.” He gestured toward the altar. “I’ll bring my girl into the chapel from the courtyard, and you pretend that you haven’t seen her this morning. That’s important, you know. Not seeing the bride before getting married.”
    Without waiting for an answer, he grabbed Mia’s arm and dragged her straight out of the chapel.
    Thorn broke into a crack of laughter. “Shall I stand beside you?” he asked Vander.
    A sudden memory of Thorn’s wedding shot into Vander’s head. They had married in St. Paul’s. The cathedral was filled to the dome with members of polite society, eager to witness a marquess’ daughter marry a bastard, albeit a duke’s bastard.
    He had stood beside Thorn at the front of the church, watching as India walked toward them, her happiness shining from her face. She didn’t take her eyes from Thorn, even for a moment.
    “Yes,” he said abruptly. He turned to the Duke of Villiers. “If you would join me as well, I should be honored.”
    “You’re like a son to me,” the duke said, touching Vander’s arm. “Between us, Thorn and I will work out this mess. I promise you.”
    “I will stand next to Miss Carrington,” India said grimly.
    Vander nodded. “Thank you.”
    Chuffy poked his head into the chapel and shouted, “Shall I bring in the bride now?”
    The vicar sniffed and turned to face the back of the church. Vander moved to the side, Thorn’s presence warm at his shoulder.
    Chuffy started down the aisle with his arm through Mia’s. He was stepping high, apparently aiming for a ceremonial effect. Halfway up the aisle he missed his step and lurched sideways, pulling Mia with him.
    India gasped. Luckily Chuffy managed to catch himself on a pew and proceed.
    “By God and all the saints at the back door of Purgatory, there was a moment when I thought I might shipwreck us both,” he said cheerfully, when they arrived at the chancel railing and he handed Mia over to Vander. “Losing my balance as I grow older.”
    “I would remind you, Sir Cuthbert, not to take the Lord’s name in vain in his own house!” the vicar snapped.
    Chuffy gave him a magnificent scowl. “Does thou think that because thou art virtuous, there shall be no more cakes and ale?”
    At this pronouncement, Mia gave a charming giggle. Vander was still trying to untangle his uncle’s speech—what had cakes and ale to do with anything?—and India was frowning in confusion. But Chuffy and Mia were smiling at each other, and he was patting her arm.
    “That one worked, didn’t it, my dear?” he said. “Hit that one on the nail head.”
    Vander raised an eyebrow.
    “Sir Cuthbert is quoting from Twelfth Night ,” Mia explained. “He’s been doing it on and off all morning.”
    “He has?” That was from India, apparently as surprised by this information as Vander.
    The vicar cleared his throat. Even he seemed amused, if reluctantly. “I could take that reference in offense, Sir Cuthbert. But you must cease your ‘disorders,’ so that I can get on to the business of marrying His Grace to Miss Carrington.”
    “Right!” Chuffy agreed. “Time to tie the knot.”
    The vicar launched into the text. Clearly, he had grasped that the marriage he was solemnizing had little to do with love or, for that matter, sanctity.
    Vander allowed the words to flow over him while he thought about his wife-to-be. Mia knew her Shakespeare. Chuffy liked her. His uncle was an old drunkard, but of everyone in Vander’s family, he’d been most like a parent. Vander had loved him when he was a boy, and he still did.
    When it came time for Vander to say his vows, he felt an unanticipated peacefulness. He’d been coerced into this marriage, and likely he’d never be able to entirely forgive Mia.
    But he was gaining a wife who would always be true to him. That thought raised a primitive feeling in his chest, a possessive streak that he’d probably developed the moment his mother had first brought another man into the