Chapter 161
Elizabeth couldn’t sleep the night before the wedding. After Charlotte dragged her off the beach and back to the house, she tried to sleep, but it was impossible with all the thoughts and images whirling through her brain. Finally, at the first hint of dawn, she changed into her swimsuit and headed outside.
She spread her towel on the beach just above the waterline and sat, digging her toes into the sand. The sky was growing lighter, with a misty band of darker blue giving way to pink just above the horizon. Tomorrow morning, if she awoke early enough, she could watch the sun rise over the ocean from Pemberley’s east-coast location. And I’d be watching it from our house … not his house anymore, ours. The thought wasn’t exactly frightening, but it was a little intimidating. Marrying William—her friend, lover, and partner—didn’t worry her. But what about the wealth, status, and fame he brought with him?
She had to admit, she was getting used to the money. Despite her insistence on maintaining as much independence as she could, she was growing accustomed to first class seats on airplanes and plush hotel suites. And this tropical wedding—with the guests’ travel expenses paid for them—was possible only because William could easily afford such things.
Living with a household staff, though, was still awkward. She always made the bed in the morning, took the bus or subway whenever she could, and thanked the Reynoldses profusely for everything they did. However, her attempts to help with the dishes or do her own laundry had been repeatedly, though kindly, rebuffed, and finally she had given up.
With a sudden burst of energy, she ran toward the water, splashing her way into the placid sea. I’m dithering about nothing! I’m already living in the house, working for the foundation, and sharing responsibility for Georgie. And, sure, there are still some adjustments to make, but it’s all going great so far.
But the family’s social status? That was another matter. She had attended a few dinners and receptions with Rose and William and had survived unscathed, but she knew that the scrutiny would increase exponentially from here on, starting with the big wedding reception in New York. They would all be judging her: was she worthy of the Darcy name, and of being the bride of one of the city’s most eligible bachelors? No doubt most of them would shake their heads and exchange derisive glances.
Stop it! The Darcys think I’m worthy; what else really matters?
But the words rang hollow. It mattered to her pride. Also, she hated to think of William being forced to face down their pointed questions and the snide congratulations laden with little poisoned darts.
She dunked her head into the water and swam away from the beach at a furious pace, belatedly realizing that she shouldn’t have gotten her hair wet. Jane already had a challenge on her hands, trying to turn her unruly mop into appropriate bridal hair in this humid climate. But it was too late now; the damage was done. She floated on her back and did her best to calm herself. Life was good, and she would marry the man she loved in just a few hours. He had too much pride in his family, and too much faith in his own judgement, to be disconcerted by the opinions of mere social acquaintances. The image of his freezing stare in response to any impertinent remarks brought a smile to her face. She closed her eyes, synchronizing her breathing with the gentle rise and fall of the waves.
“Lizzy?”
Elizabeth opened her eyes and rolled upright. Jane stood on the beach, the skirt of her pale blue sundress fluttering in the breeze.
“I’m so sorry,” Elizabeth said, toweling herself off when she reached Jane’s side. “I know I shouldn’t have gotten my hair wet.”
“Don’t worry about it. We have lots of time to get ready.” Jane glanced around and sighed. “It’s so beautiful here. I’m glad Charles and I decided to stay on for a few days after the wedding.”
“Want to sit and talk? I have an extra towel.”
“Could we sit on the terrace instead? I don’t want to get my dress all sandy.”
The sisters climbed the steps to the lawn behind the house. When they had seated themselves at a large glass table on the terrace, Jane regarded Elizabeth with a gaze full of warmth. “How are you feeling this morning?”
“A little sleep-deprived—Char and I stayed up way too late—but otherwise great.”
“No nerves, worries, second thoughts?”
Elizabeth grinned. Jane knew her too well. “I admit, I’ve been thinking about all the changes I’ve been through, and some that are still coming. I mean, six months ago I was living with you in California and teaching at the conservatory.”
Jane nodded.
“And now … well, you know; everything’s different. But I’m happy. I just wish you and Charles lived down the street.”
“I know. I feel the same way. Things have changed, but aside from missing you, it’s all good.”
“But sometimes I think about … well, William and I didn’t grow up with parents who were happily married. We don’t really know what that looks like.” Elizabeth frowned and bit her lip. “And it’s the same for you and Charles. Does it worry you sometimes? That you might repeat their mistakes? Or find brand new mistakes to make?”
Jane shook her head. “Of course, there are no guarantees, but we’re figuring out how to make our marriage work. Charles is learning that the best approach is to be honest with me, instead of telling me what he thinks I want to hear. And I’m learning that he needs reassurance that it’s safe to do that, even when there’s bad news.”
“Have you had problems with that since you got back together?”
“Not really, but being candid just isn’t his instinctive response, after years of being intimidated by his father. I think the important thing is to keep communicating. From what I’ve seen, that’s a major reason why marriages fail.”
“I guess that’s probably true.” Elizabeth sighed.
Jane leaned forward, watching Elizabeth closely. “You’re not having second thoughts about the wedding, are you?”
“Oh, heavens, no! I’m so happy to be marrying William. I’m just obsessing about things that don’t really matter.”
“I understand. I was a little jittery on my wedding day, too, even though I knew I was doing the right thing. I think it’s reasonable to be a little nervous about promising to be with someone for the rest of your life, no matter how much you love them. But that doesn’t mean you aren’t happy to be making the promise.”
“As always, you are the wisest woman I know.” Elizabeth jumped up from the table. “I’m starved; shall we go see what’s for breakfast?” She helped Jane to her feet and, arm in arm, they proceeded to the kitchen.
Although he didn’t know it, William awoke just a few minutes after Elizabeth gave up on sleep. Unlike her, he had slept, if only for two or three hours. The rum tasting event at the bachelor party had given way to a long night of poker, cigars, and more rum. The older men had departed not long past midnight, but the younger three had pushed onward, even making a late-night visit to the hot tub, despite William’s frequent protests that he didn’t want to fall asleep at the altar. Richard had hooted in reply, “Altar, schmaltar. You’re worried about falling asleep on your wedding night. Imagine what your blushing bride will think if you lack the energy to perform your husbandly duties.”
There was a grain of truth in that; he wanted the night to be perfect. Our first time making love as husband and wife. He stood staring at the bed and, smiling, spoke aloud: “My wife.” He had said the words before, teasing her, but now it would be true, and the knowledge filled him with joy and a surprising degree of peace. Richard and Charles had teased him mercilessly about pre-wedding jitters, but he had no doubts, no worries. Well, maybe one or two.
He threw a robe on over his boxer shorts and made his way downstairs, grinning at the remnants of the party strewn across the terrace. At least he’d been spared one indignity: Richard had canceled the stripper hired to give William a scantily clad lap dance. “It didn’t seem like a good idea, with your future father-in-law looking on,” Richard had explained. “But now that I think of it, I could have hidden her in the house till he was gone.”
William shook his head; Richard should have known that he wouldn’t welcome such a performance. He couldn’t deny that he enjoyed the sight of an attractive, scantily clad woman, but not with an audience taunting him. Besides, the only woman he wanted on his lap was on the other side of the island with her friends.
He continued onward toward the cliff overlooking the beach. The grass was damp and cool under his bare feet, the air balmy. Although the sky was still dark overhead, a faint glow of light peeked over the horizon. He sat on a bench near the cliff edge; he had sat in this spot six months before with Elizabeth at his side. It had been a dark and painful night but an important one, allowing them to move forward with a new commitment to a true partnership. And what a difference it had made! She had insisted on trust and total honesty, and although it hadn’t been easy at first, he’d kept his promise and had gradually come to cherish her as his trusted confidante.
She had given him so much, yet he had given her so little in return. Yes, he’d bought her gifts, of course—including the wedding present he couldn’t wait to bestow on her—but that wasn’t the same. She insisted that he had given her confidence and helped her to heal from her painful past. But she was so strong, so brave, that he doubted she had truly needed his help.
And the future …. He sighed and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. They had agreed to delay starting a family for a few years, until he had a lighter travel schedule. But after that …. He sighed again. What if their child inherited his heart defect? What if it was serious, and the baby died? It would be my fault. She’d be in terrible pain because of my weakness. Perhaps their guardianship of Georgiana, along with the nieces and nephews Jane and Charles would undoubtedly produce in large numbers, would be enough. Perhaps becoming parents was too big a risk to take.
He glanced back at the house that represented his heritage and shook his head. He wanted children to carry on the family legacy. And to create a happier home than my parents did, with Elizabeth at my side. She had assured him that, should adversity arise, they would face it together, drawing strength from each other; he would put his faith in this promise.
Dawn had broken almost unnoticed while he sat hunched over on the bench. The sky was awash in color: oranges and pinks, with a splash of bright yellow at the center. He smiled at a memory: on that other night, Elizabeth had threatened to keep him out until dawn if necessary to reach their agreement. Maybe we’ll see the sun rise together tomorrow. He shook his head, chuckling. No. At sunrise, I hope we’ll be asleep in each other’s arms.
An early-morning run on the beach seemed like a good idea. There was no point in waiting for Richard; given his alcohol consumption the night before, he would most likely be a late, and reluctant, riser. In fact, William suspected that he would need Charles’s help to drag Richard out of bed. Grinning to himself, he returned to the house to dress for his run.
William had correctly predicted Richard’s tardy appearance at breakfast; in fact, he missed breakfast altogether. After his run, William accompanied Charles, his surfboard under his arm, to Bathsheba. They returned close to lunchtime, just as Richard stumbled onto the terrace.
“Why couldn’t you have a nice cloudy day for the wedding?” he muttered, shading his eyes with both hands. “It’s like a film set out here.”
“Good morning to you, too,” William replied, grinning.
“Want a little hair of the dog?” Charles asked. “Mrs. Shepherd made me a fantastic Bloody Mary earlier.”
“Not right now,” Richard replied, collapsing into a chair. “From the sound of the voices, there’s a fierce battle going on in Kitchen Stadium.”
“A battle?” William shook his head. “I don’t understand.”
“Your two cooks appear to be facing off, and they’re not happy.”
“My two cooks? You mean Mrs. Reynolds is here?”
“Yup. And you should remember that kitchens have knives. You couldn’t pay me to go in there right now.”
Although William agreed with Richard’s sentiment, he hauled himself to his feet and headed to the kitchen with Charles close behind. He found Mrs. Shepherd, hands planted on her hips, glaring at Mrs. Reynolds, whose arms were folded across her chest, her mouth pressed together in an angry line. “What’s going on here?” he asked.
“Mr. Darcy,” Mrs. Shepherd replied quickly, cutting off Mrs. Reynolds’s attempt to speak first, “will you please tell this woman to get outta my kitchen? I came back from the market and found her here, sticking her nose into everything.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Mrs. Reynolds shot back. She drew herself up to her full height, though she looked rather like a kitten spitting at a Saint Bernard. “Someone needs to make sure everything is going to be ready for the reception.”
William, with some trepidation, stepped between the combatants. “Mrs. Reynolds, it’s very kind of you to worry about us, but I’m sure Mrs. Shepherd has everything under control.”
“Under control?” Mrs. Reynolds scoffed. “Under control? Have you seen the pile of shrimp in the fridge that she hasn’t prepped yet? They’re not going to shell and devein themselves.”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but my daughter is coming to help. She’ll be here soon and she’s going to take care of the shrimp.”
Like a dog gnawing a bone, Mrs. Reynolds wasn’t ready to surrender. “And what about the menu?”
“What about it? Elizabeth and I chose all the dishes, with a little help from Mrs. Darcy.”
“But the Darcy family … they’re used to a particular style of food and entertaining.”
“That’s right. And here in Barbados, it’s my food they’re used to.”
Mrs. Reynolds turned her gaze on William. “I’m just trying to make sure your reception is perfect.”
“And it will be perfect if you’ll get out of my kitchen and let me work!” Mrs. Shepherd brandished a coconut, and for a moment William thought she intended to fling it at Mrs. Reynolds. “Anyway, what do you know about our local ingredients? Do you know how to open a coconut and scrape out the flesh? Or how to pick the sweetest mango?”
“Of course, I know how to choose a mango,” Mrs. Reynolds retorted.
“What about the coconut?” Mrs. Shepherd forced it in Mrs. Reynolds’s hands. “Go ahead, open it. Let’s see what you can do.”
Mrs. Reynolds glared at the coconut as though blaming it for her current predicament, and then dropped it on the counter with a thud. “Well, do you know how to make puff pastry and crème Anglaise?” Her eyes lit up. “And what about chocolate mousse? That’s Elizabeth’s favorite food.” She took a step forward.
Mrs. Shepherd stood her ground, her eyes attempting to bore holes through her opponent. “You mean it was her favorite, before she tasted my waffles with coconut syrup. I don’t waste time on highfalutin’ nonsense with silly French names.”
“What’s silly about—”
“How many prizes has your rum cake won?” Mrs. Shepherd’s eyes held a triumphant gleam; she clearly felt her quarry was in a vulnerable position. “Have all your friends begged for your fishcake recipe?”
“Fishcakes?” Mrs. Reynolds exclaimed, her lip curled in disgust. “Why would I serve the family something as ordinary as fishcakes?”
“Ordinary? Ha! You better ask Mr. Darcy about the fishcakes. He begs me to make ‘em every time he comes down here.”
William had never quite begged for fishcakes, but otherwise Mrs. Shepherd was correct. Yet if he confirmed her claim, he risked making the confrontation worse.
Charles, proving his worth as best man, correctly interpreted William’s pained expression and stepped into the fray. “Mrs. Reynolds, you are a genius in the kitchen. I don’t know what the Darcys did to deserve you, and I don’t know why they don’t all weigh 300 pounds, with all the temptation from your delicious food.” He glanced at Mrs. Shepherd. “You really should taste her pies and cakes and muffins.” He sighed, with a nostalgic smile. “Not to mention the best roast chicken I ever ate.”
“That’s because I season it with herbs and roast it with lemons inside.” Mrs. Reynolds shot a triumphant glance at Mrs. Shepherd, who huffed air through her nose but made no other reply.
Charles turned back to Mrs. Reynolds. “But Mrs. Shepherd is an amazing cook, too. I mean, amazing. She’s right about the fishcakes and the waffles with coconut syrup. She’s a wizard with fish, too, and she makes wonderful desserts from the local fruit. I know you want this wedding reception to be perfect, but so does she.” He glanced toward Mrs. Shepherd. “Isn’t that right?”
“Well, of course. No need to even ask.”
“Really, Mrs. Reynolds, once you taste her food, you’ll know the reception is in good hands.”
“And as Elizabeth said last night,” William added, “we invited you and Allen here as wedding guests, not to work.”
Mrs. Reynolds was still frowning, but she relaxed her arms somewhat. “But I ….” Her voice trailed off.
Charles smiled at Mrs. Shepherd. “I know Mrs. Reynolds didn’t intend to insult your cooking,” he said in a soothing tone. “It’s just that she’s been taking care of William since he was a little boy. She’s very fond of him, and of Elizabeth, too.”
“Doesn’t give her the right to barge into my kitchen.” Despite her words, Mrs. Shepherd’s voice had lost some of its aggrieved tone.
“You’re right, of course,” Charles said. “But I know she was just trying to help. In fact, I was thinking, you have a lot of work to do today, don’t you?”
“I’m handling it.”
“Of course you are. You’re a professional. But wouldn’t you love to have a sous chef to help you, in addition to your daughter? Someone with years of experience?”
“What?” The two women responded almost in unison, each one staring at Charles with what looked to William like a mix of astonishment and horror.
“Now, wait. Think about it for a minute,” Charles said. “You both want the event to be a great success. Isn’t the best chance of that if you team up?”
The two cooks stared at each other for a short but tense interval of silence. Then Mrs. Reynolds said, sounding tentative, “Well, I suppose that’s all I wanted in the first place—to help.”
Mrs. Shepherd spoke softly, as though to herself. “I guess it wouldn’t be terrible to have a little extra help. Not that I need it, mind you, but maybe we could make a few extra dishes.” She eyed Mrs. Reynolds with obvious skepticism and continued in a tone that brooked no disagreement. “But you heard him say, ‘sous chef’? As in, you do what I say?”
“As long as what you tell me to do makes sense.”
“Oh, no. This is my kitchen. If you want to be in charge, go back to New York and make your fancy French pastries.”
Mrs. Reynolds heaved a sigh. “Fine. But I won’t have you hovering over me constantly while I work.”
“Do things right, and I won’t need to hover.”
William heaved his own sigh, relieved that détente had been reached. “Thank you both for what you’re doing. Elizabeth and I are lucky to have two excellent chefs taking care of us.”
As he and Charles returned to the terrace, William murmured, “You should join the diplomatic corps. That was some good work.”
“But it’s a fragile peace. One disagreement about the amount of salt in something, and those knives Richard mentioned might come out.”
“Thank goodness, it looks like we’re the first ones here!” Elizabeth scanned the empty parking lot at the church.
“Yup,” Charlotte replied. “So let’s get inside before anybody else gets here.”
Elizabeth had decided to get dressed at the church. Although her hair was done, she wore an old blue shirt with a frayed collar, a pair of denim shorts, and flip flops. She would have been mortified to have anyone—especially William—see her in her current condition.
Jane had been entrusted with the gown, swathed in a long white garment bag. She had pressed Georgiana into service to wrangle the bottom of the bag, keeping it from dragging on the ground, while Charlotte managed a collection of garment bags containing the bridesmaids’ dresses.
Elizabeth led their little parade into the church. They paused in the sanctuary, admiring the flowers at the altar and those attached to each pew at the center aisle. “Thank you, Sonya,” Elizabeth murmured; William’s secretary had managed this and many other wedding details with her usual calm efficiency.
“Orchids!” Georgiana exclaimed. “That’s so perfect. Does Will know about your bouquet?”
“No, I wanted it to be a surprise,” Elizabeth said. “But I thought he’d like it if I carried orchids today.”
“Oh, definitely. He loves Mamma’s orchid collection.”
“I know.” Elizabeth trailed a gentle finger over one of the blooms. “Not only that, but one of her orchid plants played an important part in our relationship.”
“Really?” Georgiana asked. “What happened?”
“It’s kind of a long story. How about if I tell you the tale on our way to Italy? It’s a long flight, so we’ll need some things to talk about.”
Georgiana rolled her eyes, but she wore a smile. “Oh, all right.”
The bridesmaids dressed while Elizabeth finished putting on her make-up. Each one had selected her own style of dress within a palette of jewel tones. Rose hadn’t liked the idea for the original New York wedding, but here in Barbados, Elizabeth thought it was perfect; each bridesmaid was like a rare tropical bloom.
“Jane and I are going to go out and see if the guys are here yet,” Charlotte said.
“And I know Mom will want to come back and see you when she arrives,” Jane added.
Elizabeth nodded. “Sure, go ahead. I’m fine for now. Georgie is here with me and, anyway, I’d rather wait to put on my dress till it’s almost time to go.”
She and Georgiana sat together on folding chairs, inspecting themselves in the mirror. “You look beautiful, Georgie,” Elizabeth said softly.
Georgiana shook her head. “I look okay. Better than usual, I guess. And Jane got my hair to do more than just lie there, stuck to the top of my head. I wish I had curly hair like yours.”
Elizabeth laughed. “Isn’t it funny how we all want what we don’t have? All my life, I’ve wished for straight hair like yours!”
They smiled at each other in the mirror. “I’m really glad you’re marrying Will,” Georgiana said after a brief silence.
“So am I.”
“He loves you a lot, I can tell. He never used to be happy like he is now.”
“I love him a lot, too.”
“Yeah. I can tell that, too.” Georgiana hesitated. “What made you start loving him? At first, I mean.”
“It’s hard to explain. Part of our bond is music. When he plays, it just speaks to me somehow, and he says my singing is the same for him.”
“I think I sort of know what you mean. He told me once that he has trouble talking about his feelings, but he can express them when he plays.”
“Exactly. And I seem to understand that language. But also, I sensed something vulnerable and almost lonely about him from the start, and it touched my heart.”
Georgiana wore a quizzical expression. “That’s really interesting. I always thought you probably fell for him because he’s so handsome.”
“No, that wasn’t it.” Elizabeth grinned as she added, “Though it certainly didn’t hurt.”
“All my friends think he’s really hot. For an old guy, anyway.”
Elizabeth burst out laughing. “Oh, he would love to hear that.”
“Courtney used to be really gross about it; she’d talk about coming over and sneaking into his bedroom, and it used to make me so mad.” Georgiana snickered. “Like he’d have been interested in her. Yeah, right.”
“Have you talked to her lately?”
“Once, a few weeks ago. But, I don’t know, she’s different now. Or maybe I’m different. All she wanted to do was complain, and to get me to complain. She said mean things about you and Will, and I didn’t like that.” Georgiana shrugged. “I used to think she was so cool, and smart, and fun, but ….” Her voice trailed off and she shrugged again.
“Lizzy! Lizzy! Where are you?” It was Mrs. Bennet’s high-pitched voice, ringing through the hallway.
“We’re in here, Mom.”
Mrs. Bennet hurtled into the room, and it was as though her presence perfumed the air with stress and confusion. She took one look at Elizabeth and gasped. “Why on earth aren’t you dressed? People are arriving. It’s almost time! You must get dressed at once!”
“Mom, it’s okay,” Jane replied. She sounded breathless, perhaps from trying to keep up with Mrs. Bennet. “We still have plenty of time. Lizzy wants to wait till it’s almost time so the dress wouldn’t get wrinkled or anything.”
“Jane, are those Lizzy’s diamond earrings you’re wearing?”
“Yes, they are. Aren’t they lovely?”
“But … but … but,” Mrs. Bennet sputtered the word and finally continued.” Lizzy, why on earth are you wearing those puny little diamond studs instead of the gorgeous diamonds William gave you? He’ll be insulted.”
Elizabeth counted to ten in Italian—William had shared that trick with her—before she replied, “These were a gift from Mrs. Darcy. She wore them on her wedding day, and I think it’ll mean a lot to her that I’m wearing them. And this necklace is the one William gave me, so I’m still wearing a gift from him.”
“And we thought it was nice that the earrings could be her ‘something old,’” Jane added.
“I just don’t understand you, Lizzy. Mrs. Darcy certainly didn’t intend you to wear those little things today. She’ll think you have no sense at all. Jane, take off those earrings and give them to Lizzy. She can put them on and—”
“Stop it, Mom.” Elizabeth spoke quietly, but the authority in her voice was unmistakable, even to herself. Mrs. Bennet halted in mid-sentence and froze, gaping at her daughter. Georgiana, who had been staring at the floor, glanced up at Elizabeth as well.
Jane stepped between Elizabeth and her mother. “Mom, it’s Lizzy’s wedding and—”
“It’s okay, Jane,” Elizabeth said, still in her tone of quiet command. “I’ve got this.” She stepped around Jane and faced her mother. “Mom, I know you mean well, and I know you think you’re helping. But I need you to stop second-guessing everything I do. Didn’t Dad and Aunt Madeline just talk to you about this?”
Mrs. Bennet scowled and responded in a petulant tone, “Yes, they lectured me the other night, and I watched what I said at the luncheon yesterday. But you’ve never known how to behave properly, and—”
“Mom, I need you to stop criticizing me. This is my wedding day, and I won’t let you upset me today of all days.”
“Upset you?” Mrs. Bennet’s eyes were huge. “I’d never want to do that. I want your day to be perfect.”
“Then trust that I’m making good choices, even if you don’t understand them. Can you do that?”
Mrs. Bennet rolled her eyes and shook her head. “I don’t understand what all the fuss is about; you’re being so dramatic.”
“Mom, I’m serious. Can you accept my choices and support me? That’s what I need from you.”
With a theatrical sigh, Mrs. Bennet replied, “All right, yes, fine, I’ll keep my suggestions to myself.”
“Thank you.” Elizabeth turned to Jane and Georgiana. “I guess it’s time to put on my dress.”
A few minutes later, she regarded herself in the mirror, scarcely recognizing the shimmering creature staring back at her.
“Wow,” Georgiana breathed.
“You look perfect,” Jane said softly. “Like a princess.”
“Well, that fits,” Elizabeth replied, blinking back the tears springing to her eyes as a sudden wave of emotion swept over her. “Richard’s always saying that I’m marrying the crown prince of the Darcy clan.”
“Oh, my, Lizzy,” Mrs. Bennet said with a sob. “What a beautiful bride you are!”
“Mom, that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.” Elizabeth had to banish another wave of tears.
“You’re almost as beautiful as Jane was on her wedding day.”
Jane began to protest, but Elizabeth stopped her, laughing heartily. Things were back to normal again, helping her to restore her equilibrium. “Hand me my bouquet, Georgie. I think it’s time for us to go.”
“Are you ready?” Charles asked. They stood off to one side in the sanctuary, waiting for a signal to assemble at the altar.
William nodded. “Thanks for being here.” He fingered his orchid boutonniere, smiling at the private message it conveyed from Elizabeth.
“Of course!” Charles exclaimed, clapping William on the back. “You know I wouldn’t have missed this.”
“And you, too, Richard,” William said, “despite your attempts at knocking the decorum out of the day, by any means necessary.”
“And yet I failed miserably in that quest.” Richard shook William’s extended hand. “Seriously, old man, this is a great day. She’s a terrific girl, and I know how happy she makes you.”
The trio took their places by the altar rail, and the organ began to play. Georgiana came down the aisle first, staring mostly at the floor, though she flashed a little smile at William before taking her place. Charlotte followed, surprising William by winking at him—or maybe it had been aimed at Richard—when she reached the front of the church. Jane came next, and William could almost sense the pride radiating from Charles as she approached.
The guests rose to their feet, and William drew in a quick breath in anticipation. And then he couldn’t breathe at all.
He had known that she would be beautiful, but nothing could have prepared him for the vision in satin and lace that floated down the aisle toward him on her father’s arm. It was the happiest, proudest moment of his life, and all he could do was to stare at her in wonder.
When she reached his side, she murmured, “Hi, there, handsome.”
Her affectionate tone and the twinkle in her eye broke the spell, at least enough that he could breathe again. “Hello, cara.”
She passed her bouquet of orchids to Jane and offered him her hand. “Let’s do this,” she whispered. Together, they stepped up onto the altar.
I’d love to read your comments! You have several ways to comment:
- On the AUS comment thread on A Happy Assembly, a JA fanfic site; we have a great community of readers there who have been reading (or rereading) the story together since mid-June.
- On the AUS Facebook page
- On my Facebook page