Sophia could feel Lord Harold shaking beside her. And she turned a few of her own giggles into what she hoped sounded like sobs of sentimentality.
The bishop placed both of his hands upon theirs together. “Those whom God hath joined together, let no man put asunder.”
He gave one last stern look and then turned to the congregation. “Forasmuch as Lord Harold James Farnsworth—” more hilarity from Sophia. “—Michael Brookes and Miss Sophia Ann Babineaux have consented together in holy wedlock and have witnessed the same before God and this company, and thereto have given and pledged their troth either to the other, and have declared…” On and on and on he droned. “In the Name of the Father, and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.”
“Amen,” Sophia said firmly. She could not do this much longer. Either she was going to burst into uncontrollable laughter, or she would burst into tears.
Focus,she chanted.Focus on the floor.On the frayed edge of the carpet.Thank heavens. Her heart was slowing. Lord Harold must do the same, however, or most assuredly, one of them was going to lose control completely.
“Amen.” She heard him say beside her.
The rest of the ceremony was spent in rather dry, familiar prayer.
They both managed to endure it without embarrassing themselves further. It was the closest she’d ever felt to him. Even closer than when he’d proposed marriage.
He did not attempt to kiss her in the end, but he did take her hand and smile.
They could be friends, perhaps.
When Lord Harold assisted her down the steps of the altar, Sophia glanced at Captain Brookes. Unashamedly, he brushed tears of unleashed laughter from his own eyes. He was shaking his head at them both.
Sophia covered her mouth. Beneath it, she allowed some of the mirth she’d suppressed during the ceremony to escape. As the music rose, she, Harold, and Brookes could contain themselves no longer. All of them laughed out loud.
As did Rhoda,
And even, surprisingly enough, did St. John.
A Word Please…
Nobody mentioned the bride and groom’s loss of composure at the altar, as friends and family of both sat down for the elaborate breakfast that followed. Sophia wondered if people merely had not noticed or if they were being polite. The breakfast was to be the final celebration to commemorate the launching of hers and Lord Harold’s connubial bliss.
Sophia ate little, but smiled and nodded throughout it all. Everyone was friendly. Everyone was happy for her. Some told her she was positively glowing.
She did her best but… it was with a great sense of relief that she bid the guests farewell and was finally allowed to disappear upstairs into a chamber connected to Lord Harold’s. Presumably to… Oh, the thought was too embarrassing to consider!
She refused to give such mortification any heed. She would simply be grateful for the time alone.
Upon entering her elaborately furnished chamber, Sophia was greeted right away by Peaches, who stood on her little hind legs and begged to be held. Feeling like a mama who’d ignored her child for too long, Sophia gathered her pet up and snuggled her like a baby.
The sound of footsteps and a nearby door closing reminded Sophia that her husband was near, disturbingly near, in fact.
Best to get this over with now. A peaceful nap would elude her, for certain, if she did not. And more than anything right now, she simply wanted to sleep.
She pushed through a door to the adjoining sitting room and knocked on Lord Harold’s.
The man who opened it was not her husband, but must, she thought with a frown, be his valet. He was handsome indeed, and young, nearly as stylishly dressed as Harold had been that day.
He bowed. “My lady,” he said. And then opened the door wide.
“Is Lord… I’d like to have a word with my — Lord Harold,” she told him. But she felt as though she had entered a very masculine, very private, domain. The gentleman’s gentleman disappeared through a door across the room without saying another word.
After a moment or two, Lord Harold returned alone. He did not seem pleased to see her. But he was polite, as he’d proven to be throughout their engagement.
“I…” She’d thought they ought to at least make an attempt at friendship. “May we sit?”
He pinched his lips, as though he would rather have this meeting over quickly, but nodded and indicated she take a seat on the sofa. He sat across from her in a winged-back chair.
“What can I do for you?” he asked. “I had thought… that you understood.”
