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“You have not spoken to me for months,” I said when my Mother left us to prepare the carriage. Ursula was caught off guard by my candidness, her eyes wide with surprise.
“I–you know the rumors that have been going about. I was advised to keep my distance, my mother feared it would have been detrimental–”
“You are like my sister, Ursula!” I cried, rage slowly eclipsing the hurt. “I would have thought you’d fight relentlessly to defend me, as I would have you! Instead you abandoned me, and now you have the gull to join my wedding party?” My hands shook, nails biting into my palms. She looked as if I’d slapped her.
“I can only do so much, Rosemary. You’re getting married now, things will settle down and return to as they were.” Ursula shuffled around the room uncomfortably, her gaze everywhere but me. I stormed to the doorway, eyes fixed on the wallpaper outside my room.
“Nothing will be as it was.”
When I descended the stairs, I was overwhelmed by the sight of all Mary had done to the house. Furniture had been rearranged, a band setting up in the cleared out parlor. I could smell the fresh baked goods from the kitchen, late winter flowers in bouquets around the house. My heart seized in gratitude. Even though we were getting married under less than ideal conditions, it was all too much.
Mother guided me into the carriage, a shaken Ursula following behind with my bouquet.
“When will you be leaving for Boston?” she asked me we took off with a lurch.
“Tomorrow morning,” I said, the scent of flowers heavy in the air. Ursula feigned a smile.
“You’ll write to me often?”
“Of course, how could I not? My best friend, my sister. And you will come visit me often?” I placated her. Ursula’s eyes glistened, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip.
There was a long pause, something building in the stuffy air of the carriage.
“I cannot believe you’re marrying William Blackwell. Rosemary, do you even realize? Your children will want for nothing. You’ll be the most fashionable, handsome couple in the state.” Ursula said, her excitement lukewarm at best.
“I know William must have some fine, rich friends in the city, perhaps you will be the one to snag them,” I sneered, my anger getting the best of me.
“Oh yes, we must plan a week together expeditiously,” she countered with just as much venom.
My mother cleared her throat. “Ladies, you must remember the duty of a wife. It is not to set up her friend with rich husbands, but to raise a family and keep a husband happy,” she scolded.
A fire flared brighter within my chest, and I was suddenly aware of the amount of heat my mother was putting off. I could almost hear a faint thumping from her heart, as if the blood flowing underneath her skin was begging me to rip it out of her. I was a caged animal with her beside me, and for a moment I saw myself tearing her flesh, pouring her blood in my mouth. I hungered for it.
I blinked. What?
Stunned by myself, I leaned back, bringing my hand to my mouth. I looked out the window to distract myself from my intrusive thoughts. A dark inkling crept into my mind that whatever this was, was involved with the secrets William kept from me.
As we reached the church, carriages lined the sides of the cobblestone street. There were tiny white flakes falling from the sky just as we made our way up the steps of the church. A heavenly hum of voices flowed from within, goosebumps riddling my arms and legs. When Mother opened the door, she immediately began directing people here and there while Ursula and Mary righted my veil, handing me my flowers, and ushered my father to me. He linked his arm with mine, giving it a gentle pat.
“Are you ready, my darling?” he asked. I couldn’t speak, giving him only a small nod. Truth be told, I was more ready than I had been for anything in my life. Ready to stop hiding, to stop lying. God, there had been so much lying.
The two wooden doors to the prayer room opened, pews filled with faces both familiar and unfamiliar to me. The wedding march began and as it did, my father guided us down the aisle. William was waiting at the end of it, his smile speaking every thought. My heart took off in a sprint, knowing in just a few moments this man would be mine forever, and my life could truly begin.
I tugged my father’s arm for him to hurry, but soon we reached the end and he softly set my hand in William’s. I beamed up at him, standing before him to take our vows. Staring into William’s deep emerald eyes, glistening with emotion, he kissed my hand.
“You look so beautiful, my love,” he whispered, squeezing my fingers.
“As do you,” I muttered, voice thick. I turned to take in the attendants. My mother’s mouth set in a tight line, my father wasn’t even looking at us. Bringing my attention back to William, I was unwilling to let them ruin this moment.
I could barely hear the pastor as he recited his lines from his dusty bible. It was almost as if we were alone at the top of these stairs, in the light from the stained-glass windows. I repeated my vows, infliction with every word. Truth rang clear as day, in sickness and in health. For better or for worse.
William’s were somehow more genuine than my own, dizzying and overwhelming—a promise layered with more and more depth.
“Please, the rings,” the pastor said. My mother stepped forward with a small red, velvet box. Inside it lay my gold ring and a gold band for William. This would be a physical representation of our union. Everyone who saw us would know he and I were each other’s. I picked up his band, cool and smooth in my fingers, unable to fight my smile.
“With this ring, I thee wed,” I recited, slipping it onto the fourth finger of his left hand. His grin shattered me, fingers caressing my cheek. He grabbed his mother’s ring, my ring, and taking my left hand, recited his vow.
“With this ring, I thee wed,” William said confidently, slipping the ring into its spot. We both turned to the pastor expectantly.
