Toxic - Zoe Blake Page 0,52
It wasn’t just his height. It was the way he commanded a room and the respect of everyone in it. Something I believed had very little to do with just his exalted title.
The man stepped forward with his hand outstretched. “Your Grace, it is an honor.”
“Mr. Simmons, may I introduce my fiancée, Miss Elizabeth Larkin.”
Mr. Simmons shook my hand, his grip clammy and weak.
“If you would be so kind as to follow me,” said Mr. Simmons as he led the way down the center aisle. We walked past several workers who were setting up large floral arrangements of pink roses and orange blossoms.
With my arm looped through his, I squeezed his forearm in delight. “Look at the flowers, Richard! I love pink roses and the orange blossoms are beautiful! This would be the perfect arrangement for our wedding. We should see who the florist is.”
Richard only smiled.
Mr. Simmons led us down a marble white and black checkered aisle to the high altar.
“This is where the ceremony will take place. Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth and the Duke of Edinburgh will be seated right over there.”
He was talking about our wedding.
Our wedding.
Our wedding with the queen in attendance.
My steps faltered.
“Given the… ah,” Mr. Simmons cleared his throat and finished, “urgency, it will only be the primary royal family in attendance. The service will begin with a fanfare by the state trumpeters of the household of the cavalry for the arrival of the queen.”
I could feel Richard’s gaze on me but couldn’t look up. At this moment, the only thing I could do was concentrate on painfully sucking air into my lungs as the room spun.
Mr. Simmons continued to drone on. “Might I humbly recommend a seven-piece orchestral rendition of Sir Charles Hubert Hastings Parry’s ‘Bridal March’ from The Birds? Princess Catherine processed to that piece of music for her own wedding and it was very well received.”
The marble-tiled floor swirled and danced before my eyes.
“As for the hymns during the wedding service, I have a few suggestions.”
Richard interjected. “Mr. Simmons, if you would be so kind as to give us a moment.”
Mr. Simmons snapped his leather portfolio closed and bowed as he stepped back. “Of course, Your Grace. Take all the time you need.”
Even though it was probably still months away, I wasn’t ready for all the pomp and circumstance, not to mention attention, the wedding would bring down on me. I wasn’t ready to be a duchess. I wasn’t ready for any of this. It was too much. I could feel the icy fist of anxiety squeezing my lungs. This was happening too fast.
Keeping my eyes averted, I whispered, “I can’t do this.”
“Look at me, little one.”
I kept my gaze lowered. My breathing was labored as I tried to stop the room from spinning.
Richard placed a crooked finger under my chin and lifted my head up. “You will do this because I’m not giving you any choice. You’re mine, baby, and it’s past time I made that official.”
My vision blurred as tears pooled in my eyes. “I don’t know how to be a duchess. I don’t know royal protocol. I don’t fit in your world.”
“None of that matters to me.”
“It should! It should matter to you.”
Taking my arm, Richard walked me the few steps till we were standing in front of the altar. “Here is what matters to me,” he said.
Taking both of my hands into his own, the timbre of his voice was quiet and solemn as he said, “Before God and man, I vow to take Elizabeth Adelaide Larkin to be my wife. I will love, comfort, honor and protect her, and will forsake all others, to be faithful to her as long as I live.”
I was speechless.
Then Richard took a step forward, then another.
“Richard?”
I took several steps back, trying to pull my hands free from his tightening grasp.
“Richard, what are you doing?” I asked as my alarm built.
Something hard hit my lower back, and I turned to look over my shoulder to see it was the altar. Richard finally let go of my hands, only to cage me in by placing his hands on the altar on either side of me.
“Those are the words I will say out loud, but this is what I want you to hear as I do…”
Richard leaned down to whisper in my ear as if he knew his words would violate the sanctity of the church and God’s order and therefore could only be uttered in hushed tones.
“I, Richard Payne the third, Duke