The Accidental Duchess

Chapter 2

Bess sniffed and nodded curtly as she tucked a lock of her wavy, golden hair behind her ear. "I would appreciate that," she replied, meeting his eyes for the final time. "Good day, Mr Wilde. It was unpleasant meeting you." With that, she spun on her heel and retreated from the tiny Little Cross church.

"Likewise," he replied rudely, though she couldn't hear him. He couldn't help but smile as he shook his head. She was truly something else, and he was sure he would never encounter another like her in his life. That he was happy about.

"Aren't you two leaving together for your wedding night?" Mrs Richmond asked, grinning widely as if she'd just achieved something grand.

Emmett scoffed. "With her? I should sooner like my teeth pulled. What are you so happy about?"

Mrs Richmond shrugged and looped her arm through her husband's. "I won't be sorry to see her go," she said simply. Dr Richmond looked upon his wife scoldingly, but he didn't say anything. Little did Mrs Richmond know, but Bess wouldn't be going anywhere. In a short while, they would receive word that he'd died of a fever or in a horrid horse accident, and Bess would be a widow and free to do whatever she pleased for the remainder of her life.

"Good day, all," Emmett said, bowing his head. He walked outside the church a married man. It was a strange feeling, knowing he was legally bound to another. He didn't know how it would work if he ever came to marry again, but he wouldn't have to worry about that for a long while.

The sleepy village didn't have anywhere for him to purchase a horse, so he had to walk the mile to Gracechurch to find his own stallion. As he walked, he found himself thinking about his new wife.

She was flawed in many ways. She was taller than most women he knew, and she was not well endowed at all. She was opinionated and cynical, and she spoke her mind rather than respecting her audience with her silence. But her eyes were something different. Though quite reserved, they were her only innocent and endearing feature. Framed with lovely, long eyelashes, her hazel brown eyes were quite beautiful.

"Enough," he told himself as he walked along the narrow, dirt trail. "That's enough."

***

It took him the whole day to return to his home in the north of Derbyshire. The familiar grounds of Ascot House appeared to him around dusk, and he rode up to the house come eight in the evening. Ascot House was truly ridiculous. Nobody needed so many rooms, but the Wilde Dukes had been residing in it for generations. It was four storeys high and practically half a mile wide. White marble columns stood from the ground upwards, and large bay windows allowed light in from all angles. The front door was made of solid oak and was practically three times his height. He'd always felt it quite ominous, whenever viewing the house. It wasn't a very familial place to be. His parents detested each other. He'd spent more time with nurses and nannies than he had with either his mother or father. Yes, if it weren't for his two younger sisters then he would stay away for good. Taking a house in London sounded deliriously tempting.

He didn't wait for the house butler, Mr Hartley, to open the door; he walked inside himself. The entry foyer was the type of room where one would be afraid to touch anything. Several valuable sculptures stood on pedestals, and fine paintings and portraits of his ancestors hung on the walls. Emmett had always thought that his mother had decorated the foyer that way to show their guests just how wealthy they were—as if the house that could pass as a small country wasn't enough.

The mahogany staircase wrapped around to the upper floors, and a black pianoforte was stationed below it with a vase of roses on top of it.

He walked over to the staircase and looked upwards to the upper landings. "Hello?" he called. It was odd that he hadn't been greeted. Usually, there were footmen and maids swarming the halls.