“I can’t be a part of this. I cannot help like I want to, not until after the wedding,” Claire protested, gripping the reins of her chestnut Arabian horse, Willow.

“Miss Abbot, you [i]can[/i] and you will. You signed up to help. Don’t you believe in our cause, in bringing down those that are on the wrong side of-“

“I know, Sir, and I will, but you [i]have[/i] to give me time if I’m going to do this properly. All eyes are on me since this damned wedding announcement. I can’t go outside without being asked what type of flowers I’m having or-“ Claire sighed, seeing the look of frustration on her contacts face at being interrupted. Any man with such a pronounced goatee and round face could never demand a ton of respect from her on sight, but since he was her main form of communicating with those in charge, she had no choice but to keep him at least moderately happy. Unfortunately if he was the one arranging a meeting, it usually meant she had done something wrong. It would be a lot easier to carry on a conversation if he would let her know his name. “I just need to get through this. Afterward I’ll be able to get my ears near anyone I want in London without me falling into a situation like last time…”

“How long until the wedding?” he asked, glancing to the side to make sure they were still alone. Anyone could meet by chance at the stables where riding classes were taken, so their hope was it didn’t look too suspicious.

“You mean you haven’t heard?” she replied sarcastically, to which he stared at her with the same cold, annoyed look in his eyes. “A week from today, early in the morning so we can spend all day thanking others for attending,” Claire sighed, her horse getting a bit antsy beneath her. “I swear, let me get through the next week and I’ll continue being just as dedicated as ever.” She would make sure the future family she’d been dreaming of lately wouldn’t have to hear of a war going on, that it would be over before they were even born.

“Fine, Miss Abbot. You’ve been given a lot of responsibility…I trust you’ll not get your cover blown [i]or[/i] forget your priorities with this bloody marriage. If you do, there will be consequences,” the arrogant man said before making his horse to trot away. Claire stared after him with an even more somber expression than usual. She’d gotten yet another note to meet at the park only to be lectured. They were angry she hadn’t done her job, and rightly so. Claire patted her horse, directing her home with a deep sigh. First Nicholas hadn’t spoken a word to her since their meeting, and now this? She was going to have to get something big out of the military officials to make up for it.

That last afternoon with Nick had, to say the least, made her feel more comfortable about marrying him. The kiss had been incredible, as was every deliberate touch with those soft, caressing hands of his. She’d rode in the carriage back to her father’s house in a daze, and like a young girl with her first crush had waited for that ‘constant contact’ he’d promised. Yet with each passing day, the butterflies in her stomach turned to a knot of anger, both at him and herself. How could she be such a fool in thinking he meant anything with the gift, the kiss, and most importantly his words. It hurt worse than if he’d just let it be and not try to woo her. Well fool me once, shame on you, but it wouldn’t be happening again. Children would just have to wait for a long, [i]long[/i] time, and she hoped the couch in their room was as comfortable as a stack of bricks.

*****

“Ma’am, may I speak freely, if only for a moment?” Claire looked back at her maidservant, the one that was always at her side when getting ready for special events. They were locked up in one of the many rooms within the Palace of Westminster. Everything was more elaborate, well lit, and more decorated than she ever could have imagined in her wildest dreams! Despite being against the entire ordeal Claire had to admit that this was every woman’s fantasy, and all she could do was sit and pout.

The Duke’s daughter nodded, to which Mary responded by quickly speaking her mind…as if faster speech would make it less painful. “I know you do not wish to marry this man. I’m sorry m’lady, but you make it painfully obvious when it’s just me in the room,” she sighed, shaking her head. “But sitting here when they’ve asked for you downstairs multiple times won’t make a bit of difference. Your father will have my head if I don’t get you dressed and down that aisle. Come on, you were so happy after seeing his estate, you said it was beautiful. Focus on that, hm?”

Claire scowled, but stood all the same. “I think next time I’ll just make you hold your tongue,” she snapped back, raising her arms for the bundle of lace, fabric, and flowers to be shuffled over her head and body. The rest was already put into place, including slip that made the dress wider at the bottom and a corset that she had to admit made her look eye-catching to any male. Hmph, she hoped the entire ensemble drove him crazy. Serves him right for teasing like that.

“Apologies, m’lady,” Mary replied, turning Claire around toward the mirror so she could lace up the back. There was more to be done on this one than her usual attire. “My goodness,” the bride whispered, running her hands over her hips. “It looks even better in here than it did at the tailor’s, doesn’t it? And the veil, that next?” The dress was almost completely made of lace and covered in miniature silk flowers at the short sleeves, neckline, and hips. The stomach area held no silk but a beautiful white cloth that dipped down into a V at her hips, just as it did above at her breasts. Her headpiece was simple, the real detail in the flowers, her long train behind her, and the gorgeous lace cloves that had gold bracelets over them. “At least the ring will look nice with these on,” she commented, mainly to herself as she held her left hand up, imagining it on. She had forced someone else to pick it out- Claire didn’t even know who took over that part of the planning. Why would she want to? The woman had [i]thought[/i] she and Nick could do that together, had even written note after note to him about it, but then thrown each and every one of them in the trash before asking anyone to take one to him. If he wanted to have any part in this he would have said so. Nicholas Rochford wasn’t a shy man.

A knock at the door brought her out of the past. “Come in,” she called, turning to the large decorated door. She was ready from head to toe, her heels making her a couple inches taller than she was barefoot.

“Are you ready, Miss Abbot?” the man dressed [i]very[/i] professionally asked, bowing to her. He must be a servant of the palace, because he wasn’t employed by her father.

“Yes,” she answered, giving the older man a smile. “Lead the way.” Simple as that. If she was lucky, no more words would need to be spoken until the vows. Claire thought it would be a grand day if she could just keep her feet moving, much less answer one more question today besides the dreaded one that would end her life as she knew it.

Westminster Hall was packed with people, all chattering away as a soft violin quartet played near the front of the room. There was an aisle lined with many white and pink flowers of all kinds for the season, a priest from the Church of England at the end, and her future husband [i]should[/i] be waiting for her there as well. Claire couldn’t see any of it yet, but she could hear the people and it made her jittery as they came to the entrance.

“Dear Claire…look at you.” It was her father. Duke Abbot was grinning ear to ear, wearing a black suit that actually helped his figure look slimmer. He also wore a hat and the chain of a pocket watch hung down in his front pocket. “You are absolutely stunning. I swear, you look just like your mother. She…would be very proud of you, you know. I haven’t told you that enough.”

The sincere, heartfelt words humbled her and brought tears to Claire’s eyes. “Thank you, father. That means a lot.” She knew how much conversations like this made him uncomfortable. But he’d said it, despite barely making eye contact until he’d finished.

“Yes, well…eh, are you ready? Everyone’s been waiting to see the beautiful bride.” And all eyes of the servants around were on her, just as the eyes of London would be once the doors in front of them opened. Claire swallowed hard, wrapping her arm around his for support. Hopefully it would be over before she knew it, and Nick could go back to ignoring her like he apparently preferred. With one more breath the wooden double doors opened, light from the wide, open room making her blink until her emerald eyes could focus once more. One step at a time, Claire, and for the love of all that is holy do [i]not[/i] trip…