“Are you disappointed that your family is no’ here?” he asked, taking her by the hand. “Would you rather I sent for them?”
She shook her head. “My mother and father would only try to talk me out of this.” Squeezing his hand, she added, “But it wouldn’t work.”
Despite Charlotte’s insistence that her parents would not be angry, Juliette wasn’t about to risk it. “I was hoping for nicer weather, though.” As a girl, she’d imagined herself marrying a man she loved, and wearing a beautiful gown, with flowers in her hair. There would have been dancing and feasting, with her favorite custard and cake.
As she daydreamed, the clouds broke open, the rain spattering down upon them. She couldn’t resist a laugh, for it was so dismal. Lifting her face to the sky, she remarked, “I think the sky is telling us to hurry up.” She hurried with Paul to the entrance of the church, lifting her skirts to avoid their being dragged in the mud.
When they were inside, Paul poured some of the water off his hat and donned it once more. “Wait here. I’ve a gift for you.” His eyes softened as he ventured back into the rain.
After he returned from the coach, he had a brown parcel tucked beneath his coat. “I didna think you’d be wanting to wed in a traveling gown.”
Juliette took the package, startled that he’d thought of it. “When did you have time to get this?” Warmth spread through her, at his gesture.
“I’m no’ one for buying women’s clothes, but I asked your aunt to choose something suitable. The minister’s wife can help you to dress,” he offered, pointing to a matron who was speaking to her husband farther inside the church. Juliette held the parcel a moment, before standing on tiptoe to kiss his cheek.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
His palm rested upon her waist, and he added, “I’ll always take care of you, Juliette.”
Her heart softened at the thought of how he’d done so much for her. She regretted that she had not had time to do anything special for him. But then, this was only the beginning of their years together.
Slipping free of his embrace, she ventured a smile. “I’ll go and change my gown.” She clutched it to her breast as she went farther into the cold stone chapel, meeting the enthusiastic Mrs. MacKenzie. The woman reminded her of a sparrow with her brown hair and brown eyes, hopping about with excitement.
“Oh, my dear, we’ll have ye out of these wet clothes in a wee bit,” she chirped, ushering her into the sacristy. Juliette removed her bonnet, tucking a wet lock of hair up while Mrs. MacKenzie unbuttoned her. For a moment, she thought of Victoria’s wedding day. Her mother and sisters had been bubbling over with excitement while Toria had been strangely quiet. Now, she thought she understood her sister’s mood.
She wanted to wed Paul; truly, she did. But there was a sense that her life was about to change in a profound way.
When Mrs. MacKenzie unwrapped the gown, Juliette drew in her breath at the sight of it. Made of silk, the short-sleeved gown was a rich burgundy color. The bodice was trimmed with ribbon and pearls, befitting a baron’s daughter. It was the sort of gown she might have worn had she married a duke or an earl.
“Och, but it’s a bonny color with your hair.” Mrs. MacKenzie sighed. “I canna wait to see it on ye.” She helped raise the gown over Juliette’s head, buttoning it up over her stays. There were long white gloves to accompany the garment and matching slippers. No doubt, the cost of the gown and accoutrements had been dear. But Paul had tried to give her something to make the day special. And despite the dreary weather and the unusual circumstances, she was looking forward to becoming his wife.
“There now, ye look like a proper bride,” Mrs. MacKenzie pronounced. “Are ye ready?”
“I am.” At least, she thought so. She was terribly nervous inside, hoping she would not let Paul down. He’d been so good to her, and she wanted this to be a strong marriage.
She followed Mrs. MacKenzie back to the chapel, where the minister awaited them. Paul stood with his hands clasped behind his back. He was staring at the stained glass windows, and as she returned from the sacristy, he turned. The expression on his face was of a man transfixed. He regarded her as if she were the answer to so many years of loneliness. And when she dared a smile, he held out his hand.
He was her best friend, and he was about to become her husband. Even as a young girl, she’d dreamed of this day.
And as the minister spoke the words binding them together, Juliette made a vow of her own.
I will try to be the wife you wanted.
Paul heard none of the words spoken by the minister. He gave his vows, but his mind was not on the ceremony—only on the night ahead. Though he would not consummate the marriage, he wondered if Juliette would ever learn to trust him. She had a slight smile on her face during the wedding, and that gave him hope.
He leaned forward to give her a kiss of peace and found that her hands were freezing. He rubbed them, and the minister gave a final blessing.
After they signed the parish register, it seemed odd to think that he’d married her at last. That this girl, whom he’d loved for so long, was now his. All because of a few vows made and ink upon paper.
He led her outside, and thankfully, the rain had stopped. Juliette stopped a moment and turned to him. Although her face still held the smile, she met his gaze and admitted, “I can’t believe we’re married now. It’s not at all the way I thought I’d feel.”
“I was thinking the same thing,” he confessed. “Howareyou feeling?”
“Like I ate an entire cherry tart by myself.”
It wasn’t at all what he’d expected her to say. “Deliciously wicked? Or like you’re about to have a stomachache?” he prompted, hoping it was the former.
“A little of both, maybe.” Her voice held traces of nervousness, but she took his hands and drew them to her waist. “I’m glad of it.”
