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Walter opened the door and Maud got into the backseat. Someone was already there, and Maud recognized the housekeeper from Ty Gwyn. "Williams!" she cried.
Williams smiled. "You'd better call me Ethel now," she said. "I'm to be a witness at your wedding. "
"Of course-I'm sorry. " Impulsively, Maud hugged her. "Thank you for coming. "
The car pulled away.
Maud leaned forward and spoke to Walter. "How did you find Ethel?"
"You told me she had come to your clinic. I got her address from Dr. Greenward. I knew you trusted her because you chose her to chaperone us at Ty Gwyn. "
Ethel handed Maud a small posy of flowers. "Your bouquet. "
They were roses, coral-pink-the flower of passion. Did Walter know the language of flowers? "Who chose them?"
"It was my suggestion," said Ethel. "And Walter liked it when I explained the meaning. " Ethel blushed.
Ethel knew how passionate they were because she had
seen them kiss, Maud realized. "They're perfect," she said.
Ethel was wearing a pale pink dress that looked new and a hat decorated with more pink roses. Walter must have paid for that. How thoughtful he was.
They drove down Park Lane and headed for Chelsea. I'm getting married, Maud thought. In the past, whenever she had imagined her wedding, she had assumed it would be like those of all her friends, a long day of tedious ceremony. This was a better way to do things. There had been no planning, no guest list, and no caterer. There would be no hymns, no speeches, and no drunk relations trying to kiss her: just the bride and groom and two people they liked and trusted.
She thrust from her mind all thoughts about the future. Europe was at war, and anything might happen. She was just going to enjoy the day-and night.
They drove down King's Road and suddenly she felt nervous. She took Ethel's hand for courage. She had a nightmare vision of Fitz following behind in his Cadillac, shouting: "Stop that woman!" She glanced back. Of course neither Fitz nor his car was in sight.
They pulled up outside the classical façade of the Chelsea town hall. Robert took Maud's arm and led her up the steps to the entrance, and Walter followed with Ethel. Passersby stopped to watch: everyone loved a wedding.
Inside, the building was extravagantly decorated in the Victorian manner, with colored floor tiles and plaster moldings on the walls. It felt like the right sort of place to get married.
They had to wait in the lobby: another wedding had taken place at half past three and had not yet finished. The four of them stood in a little circle and no one could think of anything to say. Maud inhaled the scent of her roses, and the perfume went to her head, making her feel as if she had gulped a glass of champagne.
After a few minutes the earlier wedding party emerged, the bride wearing an everyday dress and the groom in the uniform of an army sergeant. Perhaps they, too, had made a sudden decision because of the war.
Maud and her party went in. The registrar sat at a plain table, wearing a morning coat and a silver tie. He had a carnation in his buttonhole, which was a nice touch, Maud thought. Beside him was a clerk in a lounge suit. They gave their names as Mr. von Ulrich and Miss Maud Fitzherbert. Maud raised her veil.
The registrar said: "Miss Fitzherbert, can you provide evidence of identity?"
She did not know what he was talking about.
Seeing her blank look, he said: "Your birth certificate, perhaps?"
She did not have her birth certificate. She had not known it was required, and even if she had she would not have been able to get hold of it, for Fitz kept it in the safe, along with other family documents such as his will. Panic seized her.
Then Walter said: "I think this will serve. " He took from his pocket a stamped and franked envelope addressed to Miss Maud Fitzherbert at the street address of the baby clinic. He must have picked it up when he went to see Dr. Greenward. How clever of him.
The registrar handed the envelope back without comment. He said: "It is my duty to remind you of the solemn and binding nature of the vows you are about to take. "
Maud felt mildly offended at the suggestion that she might not know what she was doing, then she realized that was something he had to say to everyone.
Walter stood more upright. This is it, Maud thought; no turning back. She felt quite sure she wanted to marry Walter-but, more than that, she was acutely aware that she had reached the age of twenty-three without meeting anyone else she would remotely have considered as a husband. Every other man she had ever met had treated her and all women like overgrown children. Only Walter was different. It was him or no one.
The registrar was speaking words for Walter to repeat. "I do solemnly declare that I know not of any lawful impediment why I, Walter von Ulrich, may not be joined in matrimony to Maud Elizabeth Fitzherbert. " Walter pronounced his own name the English way, "Wall-ter," rather than the correct German "Val-ter. "
Maud watched his face as he spoke. His voice was firm and clear.
