Taren's cape draped over his shoulder as he sank into a deep bow. Before she had the chance to respond, he closed the distance between them in one stride. Ginevra caught her breath, paralyzed by his sharp gaze. His eyes, the curve of his thick lower lip, the defined nose, the obsidian lock of hair falling over his brow…he looked like an angel, emanating a strange, seductive warmth.
"Ginevra is a beautiful name. Your grandmother's?"
"Y-y-yes. Y-you knew her?" Ginevra stuttered.
"I am sorry she is gone."
His voice was low, but there was a lulling softness to it. His eyes reminded her of the blue flame at the bottom of the candle, dark and simmering.
"Her power of healing was beyond the grasp of any living being. But, let the dead rest. I'm more interested in her granddaughter," Taren smirked.
"So, Ginevra," Taren leaned in so his mouth was now close to her ear. "Do you think you could love me?"
The question surprised her. His tone was serious, but he almost seemed to be testing her. Love him? Ginevra looked up, meeting his icy gaze.
"I – I don't know," Ginevra managed.
"And…the rumors?" Taren pulled back, looking at her with a questioning gaze.
"I've heard of things…" she admitted, trailing off as she remembered the stories that passed between the staff upon news of her engagement with the duke.
Taren's lips became two hard lines again, his eyes sharp and unwavering, as he warned her.
"People make up stories when they can't cope with the truth. If I were you, I'd be more afraid of what those stories are hiding."
Ginevra set her jaw – the new distance between them had momentarily cleared her head.
"I'm not afraid."
"Good. Then, we can sign the contract."
Taren suddenly stepped back. The simmering light in his eyes was gone, replaced by a cold and icy expression.
Ginevra felt like she had just woken up from a long nap. She blinked. "Today? Right now?"
Taren had walked towards the desk at the far end of the study and glanced up.
"Is there an issue?" he asked.
"N-no, of course not," she forced herself to offer a small smile. This marriage had to go through, for her family's sake. It was their only chance. A god-given opportunity.
Taren pulled out some papers from his desk and placed them on the polished wood.
"Luca!"
In the next moment the heavy oak door cracked open and Luca slipped in.
"You'll be our witness," Taren told him.
Luca nodded, smiling like a cat, as he moved behind the desk.
Ginevra moved closer to Taren on the other side of the table who had already dipped the quill pen into the inkwell. He held the pen out to her. She stared at the long, sharp lines of taren's signature on the page. What am I doing? I'm promising myself for the rest of my life to a man…I've just met. The reality of it had just hit her – she would have to live for years with the decision she made today…
Ginevra sucked in her breath, banishing her thoughts. NO. I already made my decision. I can't think. Act now!
Their two signatures stared back at her – glistening in black at the bottom of the page. Somehow, her name looked unfamiliar and foreign next to his. It was just a signature, a flick of the wrist, but her heart was pounding.
Taren held out a rod of red wax into the flickering flame of the candle on the desk. Ginevra stood back, as they all waited in silence as the red wax puddled under their names.
"I declare you bride and groom. Taren, you may now kiss the bride," Luca smirked.
Ginevra, startled, instinctively glanced up at Taren. She had forgotten about this part. Ginevra braced herself as he leaned in. His left arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer. His lips felt warm to the touch, sending a tingle through her chest. He pulled back, his gaze lingering on her for half a moment before he moved away in one swift gesture and pressed his ring into the wax. The seal was set. He snuffed out the candle with a pinch of his fingers.
Luca grinned. "I congratulate the happy bride and groom."
Taren looked over at Ginevra, whose face was still flushed.
What's with that face. Was that the first time she's been kissed?
He leaned back against the table, crossing his legs.
"So, are you ready to depart?"
"Depart?" Ginevra stared up at him, her eyes rounded.
"You're aware of where the Maldoni dukedom is situated. It's a three day's journey from here," he explained.
"I know, but…" she hesitated, casting her eyes down. "I thought we'd have a more official ceremony first."
"Ceremonies are always more trouble than they're worth. The marriage license is enough to make the union official."
This man was definitely practical. She actually didn't care for the ceremony – she was just taken aback by how quickly they were leaving and it was the first thing that had come to mind
"It's not only that…I need to say goodbye to my Father, and well, I haven't even packed.."
Taren raised an eyebrow. "What for? You'll have a new wardrobe at the estate."
Taren crossed his arms in front of him, an amused grin spreading across his lips.
"Let's call it our elopement."
Taren lightly pushed himself away from the table. "Aren't you feeling adventurous Ginevra?"
"An elopement?" she stared back at him. "But there's really no need to elop –"
Taren brushed past Ginevra's shoulder as he moved behind her, circling her. "Do you not find it romantic?"
Taren leans in closer, standing over her other shoulder. "…or do you not trust me?
She turned her head to face him. Trust him? How could I trust him?
"It's not only that. My father is expecting me back, and I haven't even packed…so I suppose we can leave in a couple of…" she trailed off. She must be losing her mind, talking back to the duke like this.
Taren straightened his shoulders, a look of resolve falling over his eyes.
"Ginevra, we are leaving today. And it's your choice whether you're eloping or –"
They both turned at the sound of someone clearing their throat. Manfredi was standing in the doorway. "The wedding dinner is served."
"Make arrangements for departure," Taren said.
"Yes, Your Grace. Your horse had already been saddled, as requested."
"I need to return immediately. Manfredi has arranged for your later departure today. But, before I go, will you bestow on me something of yours?"
She couldn't make this man out at all. His requests were unexpected and incongruous. Everytime she thought she understood him, he shattered her perception of him.
Her necklace caught her eye. She quickly moved to untie it.
"Ummm…Will this do?" She dropped it into Taren's palm, who closed his fingers around it.
"It'll do perfectly." Then he bowed and turned towards the door.
Luca just happened to come in at that moment. "Kids these days – you won't believe what they're up too –"
Taren brushed past him. "We're leaving now. The sooner we get this over with the better," he said in a low voice.
"What - you just married and you're already leaving your wife to a rich, dying old man?" He looked incongruously between them.
Manfredi cleared his throat. "Thank you for your concern, Luca, but I am still very much alive and well."
Luca took Ginevra's hand in his and chivalrously kissed it.
"Bonifazio will come with you. You'll be in good hands," he told her, offering a sympathetic smile. Taren impatiently called his name from beyond the door and Luca followed suit.