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Papa stepped forward to give me away, and the vicar directed James and me to take one another by the right hand. We vowed to one another, and when it came time for the ring, my heart stalled.
James pulled a small, gold ring from his pocket with a blue gem in the center. It was remarkable, and far too costly to adorn my plain finger. My breath caught when the minister took the ring to place on my finger, and James spoke. “With this ring I thee wed, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow: in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.”
The finality of his words rang through me. It was through, and we were married. The vicar proceeded to pray, but my attention was riveted by the ring upon my finger. It was heavy with the expectations and the vows I had only just made, and I wanted to live up to its worth.
But I could not help but glance at my mother and wonder if I would let James down in the same way I had done so for my parents over the last few years. I was not the daughter they wanted, for I did not desire the same things they did.
Panic laced my body, and I glanced up to the white ceiling, tracing my gaze along the gilt edges and pleading with my panic to subside. As much as I enjoyed James carrying me from the ballroom a month ago, I did not wish to repeat the situation during my wedding.
The vicar took my hand, drawing my attention back to the ceremony, and I looked at James. His brow was drawn, and I attempted a smile while the vicar completed the ceremony. James and I turned toward the gathering, and he slid his hand into mine. I anchored myself in that feeling and allowed him to lead me from the church.
When we reached the churchyard again, we paused under the tree, the red-brick church emptying its occupants around us. James leaned down until his lips rested near my ear. “Are you well?”
I could only nod, fearful that any words would escape my lips scratchy and uncouth.
He hesitated before turning and pressing a kiss to my cheek. “I am glad.”
Warmth bloomed from that spot and filled the entirety of my body. I shuddered from the sudden reaction and swallowed hard despite my scratchy throat.
James’s smile was sweet, and he directed it to the well-wishers who approached us in turn. He carried the bulk of the conversations, and all the while, he never let go of my hand.
* * *
Mama wanted to rush home to prepare for the wedding breakfast, and by the time James and I reached my townhouse, there were twice as many people within its walls than the number of attendees at the actual ceremony.
“I am famished,” James said absently, holding the door for me.
“Cook has spent the last few weeks on the rum cake. You must try it.” I paused, realizing that I was unaware if James enjoyed cake or not. “But I know Mama has gone to great expense to see that there is a wide variety available, if that does not suit you.”
“Rum cake suits me just fine,” he said. “You will soon learn that I am not difficult to please in regards to meals.”
We moved further into the house and up the stairs toward the rooms designated for the breakfast, and I assisted James in finding a plate and loading it with an abundance of food. My appetite had not yet returned.
“Do you not wish to eat?” he asked.
“I cannot,” I said softly, aware that we were surrounded by well-wishers. “I will do so once the people have left us on our own again.”
He looked mildly alarmed. “Surely you will eat something before we travel?”
My stomach squeezed, and I nodded. We had designated one hour to the breakfast, and then James’s carriage would arrive to carry us to Chelton. My trunks were packed and waiting in the study downstairs, and my goodbyes would need to be brief so I did not leave my parents with a tear-stained memory.
James seemed to sense my unease. “Would you prefer to leave tomorrow?”
What would one day matter when I would have to leave my home today anyway? James only rented rooms when he was in Town, and I did not wish to sleep in bachelor’s quarters. It was better this way.
“No.” I tried to soften my words with a smile. “I will be more comfortable when this breakfast is over, I swear it.”
He seemed to take me at my word.
“I would like to find Marianne, if that is agreeable to you.”
He took a large bite of sausage and indicated that I could go.
I had not even left the room when two other men had slid in to my place to speak to him, and James’s voice could be heard down the corridor, his laughter contagious.
Marianne was seated on a tufted sofa in the sitting room, and I lowered myself beside her, aware of the many other men and women surrounding us. “I do believe my mama has invited every person she knows in London.”
Marianne sipped her chocolate. “You are her only child. Can you blame her for going to such an expense?”
