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The morning of the wedding dawned clear and bright. For all that he had spent a restless night, Daniel rose early to bathe and dress. He wanted to look his best for Henrietta and took several minutes to smooth his hair and get his new, ivory-colored cravat tied perfectly. He checked the shine of his shoes, and the cut and set of his sleeves half-a-dozen times.
Jackson found him tugging distractedly at his collar and grinned. “Come now. You’ve faced battlefields, my friend. What is a wedding to that?”
“The rest of my life, and more besides, as you well know. When one is on the battlefield, one has no time for nerves or aught else.” He grimaced at his reflection. “There’s no comparison between the two, and the battlefield is far easier in many respects.”
“There’s truth in that, but the occupations and encounters of the marriage field and the marriage bed are far more pleasant.” Jackson moved forward and clasped his shoulder in a tight, companionable grip. “Relax, my good man. You know she loves you, and that’s better than many who come to the altar.”
“But what if something goes awry?”
“What could you possibly fear going awry?”
“A carriage wheel breaks, horse goes lame, Henrietta’s nerves get the better of her and she does not come to the altar, the weather, the priest is ill, the rings are lost…” He was cut off by Jackson’s laughter.
“Come now. If the wheel breaks or the horse lames, it will only be a delay, and no fault to you. Besides, there’s no doubt your lady would walk to the altar in that case. As for nerves...the woman posed for you in a sheet when you were still strangers. I should hardly think she’d be afraid of the altar. The weather can do little besides give a good wetting, and there’s no sign it will. If the priest is ill, another will be brought. And I’ve got your rings in my waistcoat pocket, safe and sound.”
Sensible arguments, and yet his stomach still twisted with nerves. “I might forget my vows.”
“I doubt it. You’ve practiced on me so often I’ve thought I could recite them in my sleep, never mind you.” Jackson squeezed again, gently. “And if you forget...do your best, speak your truth, and not a man or woman in the church shall know or care if you’ve faltered.”
Jackson’s presence steadied him, his soothing words continuing to calm his nerves as they went down to the carriage, and from there to the church.
The wedding was set for ten o’clock, a nod to the time of their daily meetings when Henrietta had been Hetty Smith to him.
At a quarter till ten o’clock, he and Jackson arrived at the church. Andrew was already there, waiting to join them and round out the rest of the groom’s party. They were several minutes early, and it was an effort not to pace as he waited for the hour to be struck.
They had elected not to invite anyone but the witnesses and Henrietta’s parents to the ceremony, so only Henrietta’s mother entered before the ceremony, taking a seat at the front of the church, as close as possible to the altar. Her presence alerted them all that the bridal party had arrived. Daniel fought the urge to tug at his collar again.
At ten o’clock precisely, the bells rang, and the doors opened to reveal the two bridesmaids, Eva and Patricia. They were followed a minute later by Henrietta, who was being escorted up the aisle by her solemn-looking father. The sight fair took his breath away.
Henrietta had chosen a heavenly gown of ivory linen and periwinkle silk for her wedding dress, to highlight her eyes and accent her hair. The lines of the gown complimented her figure perfectly. Delicate teardrop earrings framed her slender neck, and a sparkling necklace hung low to draw attention down to the swell of her bosom. She made a glorious figure, and he might have forgotten to breathe if Jackson had not prodded him in the ribs.
He kept his expression suitably solemn, though it was difficult as the Earl led his daughter up the aisle and placed her hands into his own, standing before the priest. At the edges of his vision, he saw the other ladies taking up their positions at Henrietta’s side, and her father withdrawing to sit next to his wife.
He had worked to learn his ceremonial responses by heart, and it was a good thing he had, for he could think of nothing but her beauty as she stood before him, fairly glowing with happiness, as she gazed at him. But Jackson had spoken truly, and there was nothing to fear. He spoke when he was meant to, and he managed to not make any mistakes—fortunately, the ceremony was a simple one—and heard, through a rushing sort of sound in his ears, Henrietta speaking her own responses.
Then Jackson was holding out a small pillow with two rings on it, as he had elected to have one of his own, despite the necessity of removing it during his sculpting. He wanted tangible proof that he had married Henrietta—his Hetty—there to see in the mornings, and the nights when his dreams woke him, and as he tended to business away from her.
More vows, and then he was sliding the slim band onto her finger, and she slid a matching band onto his, and the final blessings were announced. They went forward and signed the marriage documents, with their witnesses. Then they turned, listening as the priest announced them for the first time as ‘The Marquess and Marchioness of Salisbury’, and he thought he might explode with happiness.
They took their first kiss as a married couple there at the altar, amid clapping from their few guests, then another at the threshold of the church before they entered their carriage. Both kisses had been necessarily constrained by their being in public, and he had been sorely tempted to sweep her off and into the private rooms of their new home to show her exactly howjoyfulhe was to have finally secured her hand in matrimony. But there was not enough time before their guests began arriving for the wedding breakfast.
It took the better part of an hour to greet their guests and see them seated. Only then did he signal Danvers to begin serving the wedding breakfast.
The meal was an excellent one: buttered rolls fresh from the oven and thick-cut smoked ham, and perfectly prepared eggs arranged in neat lines. Hot chocolate and a light, sweet wine, as much as one could want, and at the center, a lovely single-tiered cake with almond icing and fruits. It was everything Henrietta had suggested, done better than he thought any celebrated London chef or cook of the royal household could ever hope to match.
They made a good breakfast with friends and family, enjoying the company in a relaxed manner that he thought he might someday become accustomed to. Guests ate till they could eat no more. Toasts were given to the health and happiness of the bride, to the health and happiness of the groom, to the prosperity of the Thynne family, and more. He answered them all, though he was careful to ration the wine he drank. He had no desire to be wine-fogged or even slightly tipsy when he and Henrietta were finally alone.
The casual acquaintances left first, shortly after the dishes began to be cleared. The Earl and Countess of Crawford lingered a little longer, until the after-meal drinks had been produced and a brief final toast made to the health of bride and groom and a long and fruitful marriage.
Then Henrietta’s parents left, and only Jackson, Patricia, Andrew, and Eva remained, all of them talking quietly among themselves. He was aware that Patricia took Henrietta aside for several moments of quiet discussion and wondered what the older woman was telling his new bride. Nothing ill, to judge by her expression when they rejoined the group.
Shortly after, Jackson checked his watch and stood to offer his wife a helping hand in rising. “It is almost noon, and time for us to be away, I believe.”
“Indeed. We must go as well. I have promised Baron Darnell I would escort his daughter safely home, and he must be wondering what has kept us.” Andrew offered his partner a hand rising from his seat. “In any case, I imagine you two have other ideas of how to spend the day instead of entertaining guests.” He smirked.
“Indeed.” He could think of several things he would prefer to be doing. Daniel helped Henrietta out of her seat and held her hand as they escorted the last of their guests toward the door.
