A Kiss Before the Wedding - A Pembroke Palace Short Story (2 page)

This feels strange. I wish you had been
here to advise me before I made my choice of a husband. You have
always been my closest, dearest friend, and you have always told me
the truth, even if it was not what I wanted to hear. But in this
case, I am sure you would approve.

The duke is a handsome, pleasant, and very
wealthy man. I am sure I do not need to explain what this means for
my family. Father has been doting over me like never before,
treating me like a fragile piece of porcelain, indulging my every
whim. I am happy, of course, that he is so pleased, but there is a
part of me that is unsure.

I wish you were not so far away, for you
would know just how to ease my mind. You would help me remember my
duty.

Perhaps I shouldn’t be writing to you like
this, but I could not take this step without some word to you. I
felt you must hear it from me.

Please know that you will remain my
dearest friend, William, and I will never forget what we were to
each other, growing up as we did as neighbors here on the moors of
Yorkshire.

Wish me well, as I will wish you well in
return.

The next time you see me, I will be a
duchess, but I promise to always remain the girl you knew.

— Adelaide

His stomach in knots, William slowly bent
forward and picked up the chair so that he could sink down onto it.
He sat for a long moment, stunned, trembling in the heart, then
tossed the letter onto the desk as if it were infected with the
plague.

A sickening ball of confusion rolled over in his
gut while he fought to comprehend the truth of what he had just
read. Perhaps this was not real. Perhaps she was playing a trick on
him.

But no... Adelaide would never toy with his
emotions in such a manner. They were friends.
More
than
friends. They had always understood each other intimately, as few
people do.

He had imagined she would wait for him, that
when he came home to Yorkshire, he would propose marriage and she
would accept. Had he not been clear about that? Had she not
recognized his feelings and understood that she was far more than a
friend to him? Apparently not.

It killed him to know that her father had taken
Adelaide to London for the Season. In a way, William had considered
her to be his own discovery, perhaps even his own private
possession. They lived in the remote northern country. There had
never been any competition from other men for her affections. Her
father had no money to spare, so even the thought of a London
Season for Adelaide had seemed out of reach.

William should have known better. He should not
have taken her for granted. He should have predicted that her
father would find a way to present her to important people.

William buried his face in his hands. It had
been a mistake to remain in Italy so long and presume she would not
venture out into the world without him. What a fool he had been to
assume she would remain his.

But what was he to do now? Was it too late? Had
he lost her forever?

No, that was not possible. She was
his
,
and no other man would ever understand her, worship her,
love
her as he did.

Suddenly he was dragging his trunk out of the
dressing room and tossing clothes into it with a mad urgency he
could barely fathom.

He penned a brief note to Donatello to apologize
for his unexpected departure, and to send his regrets regarding the
upcoming dinner at the Vatican.

‘A personal emergency,’ William called it.

Indeed it was an emergency. Would he reach
England in time? Or would he arrive too late to pour out his heart
in plain words, as he should have done before, and stop one of the
most prestigious weddings of the decade?

Three

Pembroke Palace

Two days before the
wedding...

Twirling their parasols over their
heads, Adelaide and her two sisters, Mary and Margarite, strolled
leisurely along the white gravel path in the Italian Gardens. The
air was thick and humid, and Adelaide felt uncomfortably warm
beneath the relentless rays of the sun.

She paused at the stone fountain and gazed up at
the statue of Venus in the center. “Upon my word, the heat is
stifling. I wish we could kick off our shoes and splash around in
the water. Do you think Venus would mind?”

Margarite raised an eyebrow. “No, she would
probably enjoy the entertainment, but Father would brain us if he
caught us behaving like uncivilized country bumpkins. It’s hardly
the impression he wishes to convey, now that we are here at
Pembroke.”

“Mm,” Adelaide replied thoughtfully. “In that
regard, people have been rather critical about this marriage, have
they not? I suspect they are suspicious about why it is happening
so quickly. They are probably wondering how someone like me lured
the famous Duke of Pembroke into my web and trapped him there.”

“Someone like
you?
” Margarite replied.
“You are a golden beauty, Adelaide. Everyone sees it but you.”

“They are just jealous,” Mary assured her. “For
years the duke has been an impossible catch. He has showed no
interest in matrimony until you came along. It was love at first at
sight, and it drives them all mad with envy.”

Adelaide sat down on the lichen-covered wall of
the fountain and angled her parasol against the blinding sun.

“Do you really believe in love at first sight?”
she asked. “The duke barely knows me, nor I him. On the surface he
is very handsome and amiable, and he certainly flatters me with his
attentions and treats me with the utmost respect. But it is not as
I imagined it would be.” She paused. “If you must know, I am
anxious about the wedding night.”

Her sisters exchanged a knowing look, then each
sat down on either side of her.

“It’s normal to be nervous,” Margarite said.
“All brides are, but everything will be fine. The duke is an
experienced man. He will show you what to do. Do not fret. And it
will get easier after the first time.”

Adelaide swallowed uneasily. “I am sure you are
right, for you are a married woman now, Margarite, and you have far
more experience than I.”

The back door of the palace swung open just
then. A liveried footman appeared, crossed over the flagstone
terrace, and strode purposefully down the steps. In a gloved hand,
he carried a golden salver.

“He has a letter,” Mary said. “I wonder which
one of us it is for.”

They all stood up and waited. The footman’s
shiny buckled shoes crunched noisily over the gravel as he
approached. Adelaide couldn’t help but notice the perspiration
dripping from under his white wig.

What a silly ensemble on a day such as this, she
thought. Then she wondered if she truly was cut out to be a
duchess. How would she ever manage?

The footman arrived and bowed to her. “A letter,
my lady.”

She glanced down at the gold plate and winced at
the blinding reflection of the sun as she picked up the letter.
“Thank you.”

He bowed again, then turned and began the long
trek back to the palace.

“Who is it from?” Mary asked.

Immediately, Adelaide recognized the dark blue
seal, and her pulse began to race. The summer heat seemed suddenly
intensified, and she was forced to sit down again on the fountain
wall.

“It is from Mr. Thomas,” she explained as she
broke the seal.

Her sisters sat down on either side of her and
leaned close to read over her shoulder, but she could not possibly
allow that. She rose to her feet and strode off across the green
grass to read it alone.

My darling Adelaide,

Forgive me for such intimacies when you
are about to be married, but I must speak from my heart. I received
your letter about your engagement, and I have come home to declare
myself.

You said I was your closest friend, and I
remain ever so. Nothing matters more to me than your happiness. For
that reason, I must assure myself that you are certain of your
path, and that you are in full possession of the facts before you
embark upon a lifelong journey you cannot undo.

Please see me one last time before your
wedding. I am not far from you now. I am staying at the inn in
Pembroke Village, and I will come to the estate at dusk. I will
wait for you at the entrance to the maze.

— William

Before Adelaide could fully comprehend the
situation, she found herself scanning the horizon, as if William
would suddenly gallop out of the distant forest, ride toward her,
scoop her up onto the back of his horse and ride away with her.

Her heart raced. He was back! He had returned
from abroad. How she longed to see him!

A hand touched her shoulder, and she jumped.

“What does it say?” Margarite asked with a
frown.

Adelaide quickly folded the letter. “It says he
has come home from Italy, and he is here in Pembroke Village. I can
hardly believe it.”

“Does he wish to attend your wedding?” Mary
asked innocently. “Good heavens, will the duke allow it? It is a
very small guest list. Family only. I believe he ordered quail. A
very specific number!”

Mary seemed quite concerned about the menu.

Adelaide met Margarite’s concerned gaze and knew
at once that her older sister recognized a danger here, and
understood there was far more to this sticky situation than
maintaining a proper headcount for quail.

“He wants to meet me at the maze,” Adelaide
confessed. “At dusk.”

“But why?” Mary asked.

With growing unease, Adelaide cleared her throat
and tried to maintain her composure. “I am sure you must recall,
Mary, that he was always very protective of me. I suppose he wishes
to assure himself that I know what I am doing.”

“Well, of course you know what you are doing!”
Margarite replied incredulously. “You are about to become a
duchess, for pity’s sake.”

Adelaide spoke firmly. “He wants to satisfy
himself that I have no reservations about it.”

“
Do
you?” Mary asked, sounding completely
shocked and bewildered.

Adelaide squared her shoulders and replied too
quickly. “Of course I have no reservations, but that is neither
here nor there. The point is...” She paused. “I have not seen
William in over a year. You both know he is a dear friend to me. I
must go to him, if only to say hello...and good-bye.”

Margarite gripped her arm. The pads of her
fingers dug painfully into Adelaide’s flesh. “You must not do that.
It will confuse you.”

“I will not become confused,” Adelaide argued.
“I know how fortunate I am to be marrying Theodore, and I
will
wed him in two days’ time. Nothing is going to change
that.”

Margarite’s grip on her arm tightened. “Are you
sure about that? You say William is only a friend, but—”

Adelaide had no intention of allowing her sister
to finish that thought. “I am not a fool.”

They stared at each other heatedly. “Then why
would you even consider going to meet another man—who so clearly
has designs upon your affections—mere days before your wedding? If
you were truly devoted to the duke, you would not risk your future
with him. You would be loyal. Do not go there, Adelaide. You can
say good-bye to William in a letter.
After
you are
married.”

Adelaide tugged her arm free and glanced up at
the white palace. It was impossible to imagine not seeing William
in person now that he was home. She could not simply leave him
waiting at the maze alone, without any explanation.

Margarite’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. “What
has happened between the two of you? I thought you were friends,
nothing more.”

“We
are
friends,” she insisted. “Nothing
has happened.”

“Has he ever kissed you?” Margarite asked. “Or
touched you?”

It was Mary’s turn to grab hold of her other
arm. “For that matter, has the
duke
kissed you?”

“That is completely irrelevant!” Margarite
scolded Mary. “They are engaged to be married! But if there had
been some past affair between Adelaide and Mr. Thomas, it could
become complicated. Are you a virgin, Adelaide?”

“Good heavens!” she replied, horrified that her
sister would ask such a thing. “Of course I am! And there was no
affair.” She backed away from them. “William and I are just...” She
paused. “We are very familiar with each other. That is all. He
cares for me. Like a brother.”

A brother
? Oh God. She was going to burn
in hell for uttering such a lie, for she had never thought of
William as a brother.

Therein lay the problem at the moment. The
deception of those words hit her like a wooden club across the
chest.

Margarite shook her head with a warning. “Do not
make this mistake, Adelaide. Not when we have come so far. The duke
will lift us up very high in Society. Think of your future
children. They will be heirs to a dukedom and will inherit a great
fortune one day.” She waved a finger. “Do not, under any
circumstances, meet Mr. Thomas at the maze. Be sensible and let him
go.”

Her advice cut Adelaide to the core, for she
knew her sister spoke the truth. She could not meet William two
days before her marriage to another man. The words in his letter
were clear. After all this time—when she had finally given up on
him—he had come home to declare himself.

Part of her hated him for it—for staying away so
long. For not giving her some hope before now.

For ever leaving in the first place.

Oh, why did she write that letter? She should
have known this would happen.

Perhaps she
had
known.

The idea that she wanted any of this frightened
her. She had been so sure of her decision to marry the duke.

Margarite was right. Adelaide could not meet
William at dusk. If she did, it could ruin everything.