"Are you all right?" Cressida asked softly, taking Victoria's arm.
Victoria didn't know how to answer. It felt surreal to her that she was standing here—yet again—in a wedding gown, about to marry a gentleman she hardly knew.
"Tell me what you're thinking," Cressida urged.
"I'm thinking…I'm thinking it's not as bad as last time," Victoria said.
"Is that truly your feelings about your wedding day? That it could be worse?"
"It could be much worse. At least Henry is someone I care about. I may not love him, but at least I can think of him as a friend. And I know he respects me, and that's something I've rarelygotten from a gentleman before. So yes, this could be much worse."
"You don't have to go through with this, you know," Cressida said softly. "If you choose to leave, no one will be angry or upset with you."
"Of course they will be. Henry will be upset, even if no one else is—and who could blame him?"
"Well, that doesn't mean you have to marry him. If you don't want to do this, we can leave right now—you and me and Matthew. We can take you home, and you don't have to go through with it."
"I do have to go through with it," Victoria said. "I agreed to do this. I made a promise. I can't back out of it now."
"You know I would support you, though, if that was your choice," Cressida told her."
"I know you would," Victoria assured her sister. "And believe me, your support means everything to me. I don't know what I would do without you, especially on a day like this one."
"You won't have to find out," Cressida said. "I'll be here for you always, no matter what happens." She took Victoria's hand. "Are you sure you want to go through with this?"
"Not at all sure—but I'm going to," Victoria said with a sigh. "I've made my decision."
"Very well," Cressida agreed. "If that's what you want, that's what we'll do. Come. It's time."
She led Victoria toward the doors that opened into the church. Victoria's heart hammered. Her thoughts were screaming.Don't do it! Go back!
But there was no good reason for that, she told herself firmly. Her desire to back out of this had nothing to do with Henry and everything to do with the trauma of her own past. He was a good man. Things would be different with him—she was sure of it.
The doors opened, and there he stood at the front of the church, beaming at her. She didn't know when she had ever seen anyone look so purely happy. That ought to have relaxed her, she thought. The fact that he was so overjoyed at the prospect of their impending marriage was surely evidence that he was the kind of man who would treat her properly. And yet, instead of feeling bolstered, her heart sank at the sight of him.
This was to be her future, and she didn't want it.
She would have preferred anything else to this, she thought suddenly. Even though he was a good man—even though this was probably the best match she could have made—it would have been better to be alone than to be married to one man while she was in love with another.
She wished she had never met James. She had been so happy on her own before he had entered her life. She'd wanted for nothing, and she hadn't imagined that shecouldwant for anything. In those days, if anyone had posed the question, she would have told them that her life was perfect, and that she wouldn't change a thing.
Meeting James had woken her up to all she was missing, had made her realize how good love could feel. And now that she knew it, she wished she had never learned that lesson, for it would grieve her until the end of her days.
Henry, meanwhile, was plainly blissfully unaware of the complicated thoughts racing through her mind. He continued to beam at her as she walked down the aisle.
Victoria wished she could slow her pace to a crawl. She wished the aisle would extend itself for miles so that she would never reach him.
It would never happen. But she wished for it all the same.
And then, just as she was drawing so near to him—and to her fate—that she felt as if she might be sick with the nerves of it all, she heard a bang from the back of the room.
She jumped and spun around to see what the noise was—and there stood James.
He was disheveled, as if he had just been running. His jacket was askew, and his hair was a mess. There was dust on his white collar.
Victoria stared. What was he doing here? She had been sure that he wasn't planning on attending the wedding at all, and now here he was. Had he come here at the last minute out of a desire to watch her marry?
She realized, suddenly, that she'd taken comfort in the fact that he wasn't there. She had allowed herself to believe that it meant today would be difficult for him to face—that he hadn't been able to bring himself to attend. But he was here after all. What did that mean?
