He cupped my face in his hands, searching my eyes, concerned. “Are you sure? We don’t have to do this today.”
I gave him a shaky smile. “Yes, we do.”
He lowered his head to kiss me, but Pearlie placed a hand on his shoulder. “Hang on now. Getting a little ahead of yourselves…”
Whit chuckled and pressed his forehead against mine for a moment then straightened, smoothing the front of his suit and giving Pearlie a curt, solemn nod. “Yes, ma’am.”
Pearlie lifted a long length of gauzy crimson fabric and raised it to chest level, draping it over her open palms.
“Today I bind your hands together, Whitman Proffitt and Zellie Dupont, symbolizing the union of two souls as one. May this handfasting represent the love that brought you together, the bond of the vows that unite you. May your love be strong enough to last for eternity and beyond.”
She wound the material around our clasped hands so that it created the infinity symbol, a perfect figure eight.
My stomach fluttered with nerves when I momentarily forgot what was supposed to happen next. The ceremony wasn’t the typical one I’d seen on TV or read about in books. Whit had shared with me that the ceremony had been passed down through generations and was part of his family’s tradition, so I had readily agreed to honor that since it seemed to mean a lot to him. And although Whit was familiar with the traditions of his family, I’d never been to a Proffitt family wedding, obviously. In fact, I’d never been toanywedding.
But then Whit gently pressed my hand and drew me ever so slightly closer as June stepped forward to cover our hands with hers and bless our union, first in English with a prayer that evoked the creator of all, and then with an ethereal song in the language of the song she had taught Addie and Henry. I didn’t understand it, but I knew it was beautiful. Whit had loosely translated it for me the previous day so that I would understand what was being said but assured me it lost something in the translation. Hearing it now, the emotion in June’s voice, brought tears to my eyes.
When the song ended, June took a step back and inclined her head, signaling Whit.
He then turned his eyes to me, the love I saw there steady and sure. “Zellie Dupont, you are the one I choose to share all that I have, all that I am. You are blood of my blood, bone of my bone. My love for you is eternal.”
My throat tightened with emotion as I repeated the words. “Whitman Proffitt, you are the one I choose to share all that I have, all that I am. You are blood of my blood, bone of my bone. My love for you is eternal.”
Pearlie then removed the crimson ties and took the thin wedding bands of braided platinum that Whit had commissioned, pausing to hold them in her hands and offer a silent blessing upon them before handing them to us to place on the other’s finger.
Whit lifted my hand and pressed a kiss to my ring, then glanced at Pearlie.
She just chuckled and waved her hand. “Yes, yes, go ahead and kiss your bride now, honey.”
The rest of the day was a blur of warmth and happiness. And later that night when Whit and I stood naked on the veranda of his home near Charleston, his arms wrapped around me, letting the warm ocean breeze caress our bare skin, I finally knew the peace that I’d always dreamed of.
“I want to stay here forever,” I said softly as if speaking the words too loudly would shatter some fragile dream that was too precious to last for long. “Just like this.”
His arms around me tightened, and he dropped a kiss on my shoulder. “You’ll get no argument from me. However, the rest of the world might have something to say about it.”
I leaned into him and closed my eyes, listening to the waves break gently on the beach below. “Hmm…well, I guess we’ll just have to come here and do this often.”
“Well, Mrs. Proffitt,” he said with a mischievous grin, “I plan to do this—” He suddenly swept me off my feet and into his arms. “—as often as I can.”
I laughed as he carried me back to his bed—our bed—and pulled him down with me, wrapping my arms and legs around him as his lips captured mine. Andwhen his mouth left mine to trail kisses down my throat, nip gently at my breasts, trace a path down my belly, I sighed contentedly and gave myself over to the pleasure.
“Oh, yes,” I gasped as his mouth continued to explore, “definitely often.”
Chapter twenty-three
Isat huddled in the corner of the attic, my hair a tangled mess hanging in disarray, partially obscuring my vision. But I didn’t need to see everything—just the door. And I waited. For hours. Or maybe just minutes that stretched on, felt like hours. Finally, the door eased open, allowing in a young woman wearing a simple blue dress and carrying a tray with a silver dome set atop it.
“You need to eat something, Alice,” the woman told me, pushing the door closed with her hip. “Your husband isn’t happy with you starving yourself.”
I merely stared at her, hating the sight of her because it meant I was still alive, still trapped in the damned attic, an abomination growing inside my belly.
The young woman set the tray on a plain wooden table near the wall. “Look, Alice,” she said as if I were a child. “It’s your favorite. And I even brought you some peach cobbler.”
“I do not want it, Netty,” I spat. “I do not want anything from any of them!”
Netty huffed and put her hands on her hips. “What about little David? He misses you. Please just eat something. If you do, I know Mr. Proffitt will let you come out again. Wouldn’t that be nice? Sit under the tree and drink lemonade?”
I narrowed my eyes at her, briefly sorry that it had to be Netty who brought me my dinner today. She’d always been kind. But then, she wasn’t one ofthem. Not yet.
