Page 74 of Christmas Comes to Little Valentine

All the tension that had been singing through him since the moment he’d woken dissipated as he saw her face, her smile, and her grey eyes shining with happiness. Lord, but she was beautiful. Pride and joy and a sense of awe that fate had brought them together in such a way filled his heart, and it was suddenly hard to breathe.

Though he knew the church was filled to bursting, that Hawkney stood at his side and George waited to give his cousin away, Nat saw nothing but his bride. Even the reverend’s voice was distant, and he spoke his vows in a daze, unable to take his eyes off Meg.

Honeywell told him they were married, that he might kiss the bride, and he did so, still feeling as though he was caught in a dream so magnificent he hardly dared breathe.

He didn’t wake until they emerged from the church, into daylight, as snow drifted down around them.

“Oh, how perfect!” Meg exclaimed in delight.

“Everything is perfect,” he said, deciding he had not kissed his bride half as much as he ought to have done. He pulled her close, pressing a swift kiss to her mouth.

“Steady on, Nat. You’ll have to wait a bit for the honeymoon,” Aubrey quipped, slapping him on the back.

“Yes, put the girl down, Nathaniel. Where are your manners?” Gee-Gee said, though her eyes sparkled with delight. “Congratulations, both of you. But mostly you, Nathaniel. You are a lucky fellow. Meg, you keep him in line and don’t put up with any nonsense.”

“Yes, Gee-Gee,” Meg said, laughing.

The dowager nodded with satisfaction. “Very well, let us return to the Hall before we all freeze to death.”

The wedding breakfast was everything one might have expected from the dowager, with one notable exception. As Boxing Day was the servants' day of rest, The Mermaid’s Tale catered the affair, under the watchful eye of Mrs Fairway as the proprietress was away on her own honeymoon, and with help from The Swan Inn.

Upon Nat and Meg’s insistence, all the staff of the hall were invited too. They had both assumed they’d have a battle on their hands to get Hawkney to agree to this, but he’d taken it with remarkably good grace, saying only, “Noblesse oblige.”

Nat had told him he was too stuffy for words, but Meg had avoided a squabble by reminding Nat they’d got what they wanted.

So, their wedding breakfast was a remarkably lively affair, notable for Jenkins and Howard—who had not been bosom pals during their time together—becoming remarkably friendly, not to mention well lubricated as the afternoon wore on. Personally, Nat rather thought Reverend Honeywell was to blame, for he kept refilling their glasses.

Finally, however, the toasts were done, the cake cut, and he could bear his bride away. They weren’t going far, having determined The Mermaid’s Tale was perfect for their first few nights as a married couple.

Meg had decided it would be romantic to walk through the town, especially with the snow still drifting down around them, a notion Nat had agreed to but regretted at once. In the first place, a carriage would have been quicker. In the second, all the way they were accosted by the townspeople, wishing them well and lobbing rice at them. Nat suspected he’d be picking it out of his hair and clothes for some time.

Finally, however, they reached the hotel. Mrs Fairway greeted them warmly and showed them up to a lovely room with a view over the sea that Nat had known would delight his wife.

“Oh, how beautiful!” she exclaimed, rushing to stand before the large windows. “This is why you said I’d love it so much.”

“If there’s anything you want, you need only ring,” Mrs Fairway said. “But otherwise, I’ll have supper left outside your door at seven this evening, and breakfast at eleven. Otherwise, you’ll not be disturbed. Does that suit you?”

“Perfectly,” Nat said, thanking the woman, who nodded and wasted no time in leaving them alone.

Nat closed the bedroom door, regarding his beautiful wife with a sense of unreality. It had belatedly occurred to him he’d done nothing like this before. Well, obviously he’d done this before, but he’d never been to bed with someone who meant so much to him. Someone he loved. It was something new and rather wonderful, and he wanted to ensure Meg realised this was special to him too, but his nerves had kicked in, and he felt a little anxious.

He put his coat and gloves on a side table, noting with relief that there was a bottle of champagne chilling in an ice bucket. Perhaps a drink would settle him down. He took a breath, telling himself to relax or else he’d worry Meg. It wasn’t like he was an amateur, for heaven’s sake. It would be fine.

Meg, who had been exploring the room with interest, turned to look at him, and paused, her expression thoughtful. “Are you nervous?”

So much for appearing suave and relaxed.

“No. Well, perhaps a little, yes,” he admitted.

She grinned at him, apparently rather amused by this, and sat on the bed, looking far too alluring, and something in his gut tightened with need. “Whatever for? You can’t make me believe this is new to you.”

“No, obviously,” he replied with a huff. “But at the same time, it is new, Meg. It’s different with you.”

Her expression softened, and she patted the space beside her.

Nat went to her, sitting by her side. “I promise I’ll try not to hurt you,” he said awkwardly. “I don’t want to hurt you, obviously, but—”

“Oh, yes, of course,” she said, nodding her understanding. “You mean it might hurt me because it’s my first time,” she said, as easily as if this was the kind of thing they discussed all the time. “Your grandmother gave me a few words of advice,” she told him, as if this ought to be reassuring.