“Notever,” I grit out. “Swear it. Swear you won’t die before I do. I couldn’t bear that.”
“Sybil—”
“Swear.”
“Very well.” He gathers me against his chest. “I swear it. If one of us has to suffer without the other, I’ll take that pain.”
I press my lips to his breast, inhaling the pine and citrus scent of him. “I do love you.”
He nuzzles the top of my head. “I guessed that just now.”
“Speak to the priest tomorrow,” I say. “And I’ll take my mother and sister to the city. Why should we spend any more time apart when death could steal one of us away without warning? It’s best to be married quickly, like you said. In two weeks. My ankle should be much better by then.”
“Two weeks,” he agrees.
And we seal it with a kiss.
9
Anne and Mama receive the news in different ways. Anne’s voice is too shrill, too excited. She’s forcing herself to be overly enthusiastic, trying to make up for Mama’s reaction, which is muted, even cautious. Both their responses irritate me a bit, but I understand the reasoning behind them. Mama was betrayed over and over by the man she once loved, and she can’t help fearing Beresford because he’s relatively unknown to us.
“Do you love him?” she asks.
“Yes, as far as I know him,” I tell her. “But you’ve always told us that love isn’t enough of a reason for marriage, not on its own. I’ve got other reasons, practical ones. Like the fact that a marriage with him will keep us from suffering and starving this winter.”
“So you’re doing this for mercenary reasons.”
“And for love,” I counter. “Both things can be true. He understands that we need things from him—he offered his help before I could even ask for it. But he wants to honor me by making his fortune mine, so I won’t feel like I’m accepting charity in exchange for sex.”
“Is that what he said?” Mama crooks an eyebrow.
“More or less.”
She’s still frowning, so I say, “You have two weeks to get used to the idea. For now, we need to get dressed. The carriage is coming at nine to take us to Gresoul. We’re all getting new clothes.”
Anne lets out a pleased squeal and charges upstairs. Then she comes halfway down again to call, “Can we get new underwear?”
“He said we could each pick out an entire new wardrobe, so yes.”
“How lovely! My panties have been mended so many times they’ve become quite uncomfortable. Seams in odd places, if you know what I mean.”
She runs back upstairs, and I exchange a smile with Mama.
“I truly am happy for you,” she says, taking my hand. “Just be careful, my darling girl.”
“I will. And if he isn’t worthy of me, I’ll leave him.”
Her face falls a little. “Try to figure out his worth before you have children. Once you start a family, everything becomes more complicated.”
“You still could have left,” I say, more sharply than I mean to. It feels as if she’s blaming me again, telling me I’m the reason she stayed.
“I know,” she replies. “We always have choices. But it’s a plain fact that children are a factor one must consider in such decisions. I wish you would wait until you know him better.”
“Mother mine.” I take both her hands. “I am twenty-two, a grown woman, raised with all your proverbs and precepts. I possess some wisdom of my own. Trust me like I trust Beresford. Promise me that you’ll forget your worries, just for today, and have fun with us. You’ll get to buy a fine gown for the next dinner party. Wait until Justice Oellin sees you in it.”
Her face softens with a girlish smile. “A gown that will make his jaw drop, eh? Now that does sound like fun.”
The following fortnight is such a whirl of shopping, planning, and preparing that I barely get to see Beresford at all. He’s inviting everyone in the entire region and hosting a lavish reception at the pavilion near the temple of Junaeth. Thanks to his growing reputation as an excellent host and the abrupt announcement of our marriage plans, the entire area is buzzing with gossip. I don’t hear any of it directly, but Anne repeats some of it to me when I insist that I want to know what people are saying.
