thirty-two
“Stay calm,” Captain Jackson said to Samuel next to the altar.
“I’m calm,” he signed, craning his neck to see Vivienne walking down the aisle.
“You keep moving your feet. The priest will think you want to make a dash for it.”
He remained still, smiling at his bride. She looked radiant from the inside out. As she walked the few steps separating them, all the moments they’d shared flashed through his mind. When she’d sneaked into the circus to see him; when she’d taught him how to read; when she’d kissed him while they sat together on a bench to give him a happy memory.
And soon she would be his wife.
The priest said something that broke the spell, and then she was offering him her hand. He held it against his chest to make her feel his heartbeat. Her smile was so wide and bright his pulse raced further
They both faced the priest, and the ceremony began. He didn’t care if there were only a few people or that Vivienne’s Mother wasn’t present. That day was the best of his life.
“Will you, Samuel, take Vivienne Elizabeth to be your wedded wife?” the priest asked, “to have and to hold from this day forwards, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do you part?”
Samuel signed quickly, “I do.”
Captain Jackson would translate. “Mr. Lyon says—William, what are you doing?”
Everyone turned towards the footman standing in a corner next to a shrine.
William stood on attention. “Nothing.”
The captain scowled. “Apologies, Father. That wasn’t what Mr. Lyon said. He said ‘I do.’”
Vivienne seemed to fight a chuckle as Samuel finished his vows.
When she said, “I do,” Samuel would have loved to sweep her off her feet into a twirl. He was happy just smiling at her.
The priest took their hands. “I now pronounce you husband and wife.”
Samuel kissed her hand and leant closer before stopping. They hadn’t discussed the kiss, and he didn’t want to embarrass her. So he kissed her forehead and hugged her, wishing he could whisper how much he cared about her.
But maybe words weren’t needed.
The ceremony had beenbeautiful for Samuel, just because Vivienne had smiled the whole time, her cheeks had been rosy, and her eyes had shone. And because she was his wife.
She had many reasons not to smile—her mother hadn’t come, the guests were only a few, and she wasn’t wearing thegown she’d wanted. But the way her eyes lit up when she looked at him made up for all the rushed preparations.
Now that she was his wife, no one would hurt her.
Sitting next to her at the table of the wedding breakfast, he surveyed the dining hall.
Lord Huntington sat on the other side of Vivienne, studying the servants. The captain frowned at the glasses of champagne scattered around. Samuel would have been happy to ban any liquor out of respect for his friend, but Captain Jackson had refused the offer.
A wedding without liquor is like a joke without a punchline, the captain had said.
Potter had prepared all sorts of delicacies, from roasted Cornish game hens to a wedding cake ofdulce de lecheand pecans, and all his household was enjoying the celebration.
Vivienne took his hand. “Thank you. It’s a beautiful reception.”
He dipped his head, taken by the sudden urge to kiss her but paused an inch from her lips. Not because he didn’t want to kiss her, but because their first kiss should be in private.
She gazed up at him, her lips parting. “You didn’t kiss the bride.”
“We didn’t discuss the kiss, and I wasn’t sure if you wanted to be kissed in front of everyone.” He took her chin and stroked it with a thumb. “Perhaps in a more private place?” he signed for her only.
