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Far as the curse is found,
Far as, far as the curse is found.”
“Joy to the world,” Charity repeated, thoughtfully, as she put her foot on the bottom of the carriage steps. “I hope you’re feeling it, too, Cyril. And that your jaw isn’t too sore.”
“Oh, Hugo was too sick and weak to do much damage,” he said, carelessly, touching the spot where Hugo’s fist had collected with his face three weeks earlier. “Which is just as well. Now that he’s quite recovered, I can see that Mabel might have been peevish if I’d spoiled the wedding photographs for her.”
“Mabel could never be peevish. She’s too nice for that!” said Charity with a laugh, thinking how marvellous it was that she’d be able to publicly attend Cyril’s wedding in two weeks’ time with Hugo. They’d decided to delay their own wedding trip for the event.
“And much too nice for me since she’s forgiven me everything. I really don’t deserve her.” He was suddenly too serious for Charity’s liking when Charity felt close to bursting with happiness.
“Everything?” she asked playfully with arched eyebrow.
He had the grace to look uncomfortable. “I admitted to the gambling and the cheating. Only on two significant occasions, I might add, though I was guilty of a few threats, having learned early how to make others afraid of me when, really, I was no threat at all. Father was a good model.” With a rueful smile, he added, “The only part I haven’t told her was about Rosetta. And, really, I was paying Rosetta to help me be what Mabel would want. You won’t tell her? Mabel, I mean?”
Charity laughed at his alarm. “I shall tell no lies but I shall not volunteer anything, if that’s what you’re worried about. Now, the carollers have moved on and there’s nothing keeping us here. I suggest it’s time I meet my father if he’s to get me to the church in time. Hugo might think I’m not coming and decide to go away again.”
* * *
For the third time in five minutes, Hugo glanced at his timepiece.
Cyril patted him on the shoulder. “She hadn’t changed her mind when I saw her half an hour ago.”
“You definitely deposited her safely with her father?” Hugo couldn’t remember feeling this agitated, ever.
“I did. And he was as excited as she was at the prospect of coming here.”
“She was excited?”
Cyril rolled his eyes. “Lord, Hugo, but you always were exasperating.”
“Hush! I think she’s here!”
Hugo twisted his neck, tingles of excitement shooting through his extremities as the door opened and the organ began to play. The church was filled to capacity, but he barely glanced at the rows of well-dressed ladies and gentlemen who were here for what had been touted as the most intriguing and anticipated event of the season.
Two people who were not in attendance, and who would not be missed, were Hugo’s father and uncle.
Mr Riverdale had not shied away from citing their cruelty towards son and nephew as the reason for denying the two young lovers what they longed for and what they deserved. He’d woven their roles into a tale that tugged at the heartstrings and, with its virtuous heroine, talented, driven and hard-done-by hero, together with the evil, controlling, manipulative relatives, made excellent news copy.
Didn’t the public love a reason for displaying strong emotion, whether love or disapproval? No, Septimus and Thomas Adams would not have been welcome in church that day.
Hugo held his breath as Charity stepped into the church, at first a dark, mysterious figure with the sunlight at her back. A snippet of competing song made his ears prick up. A band of carollers was singing Joy to the World, and his heart swelled before the door closed behind Charity and her father, and Charity became, in the dim light of London’s most fashionable church, a figure of breathtaking poise and beauty as she slowly progressed up the aisle on her father’s arm.
A young woman whose smile radiated all the love and forgiveness and goodness that was the essence of her being.
That was what had sustained him through the long, empty year he’d been away from her.
Briefly, he gripped her hand. “You waited for me.” His voice felt hoarse with emotion.
“I never doubted you’d be back to keep your promise,” she whispered as she settled herself at his side in front of the parson who cleared his throat, ready to begin the ceremony that would bind them together, forever, as husband and wife. “And a year early, too.” She gave his hand one last squeeze before dropping it, adding the words that reflected the sentiments that had sustained him through such pain and hardship.
“Though I’d have waited a lifetime.”
THE END
