Page 15

“Ma-rie,” Mr. Berryman repeated, speaking the word in broken syllables, as if Charles was eighty-five years old and hard of hearing.

Charles cast him an annoyed glance. “Take thee, Marie.”

The vicar continued, and Charles didn’t hesitate this time, repeating each phrase until Miss Oakley did the same.

To no surprise of Charles, at the end of the ceremony, Mother produced a simple gold band for him to give to his new wife, and he placed it on her finger after she removed her gloves.

She didn’t so much as thank him, which was just as well. It was Mother’s doing, after all. All of it was.

After the ring, no kiss was exchanged, much to Charles’s relief, and no further word was spoken between him and his bride as the vicar prayed over those gathered.

Charles’s legs grew stiffer and stiffer as the prayer continued far longer than it needed to. Finally, Mr. Berryman finished, and just like that, Charles was married to a perfect stranger.

And, coincidentally, a hundred pounds richer. He wasn’t the last of his friends to be married now, that was for certain.

Still, the knowledge was merely a dim light in a sea of darkness he’d just committed to.

What on earth had he just done?

Marie accepted the congratulations from her parents and the Shepherds, though she didn’t feel as if she deserved it. Was it anything to congratulate when two perfect strangers made vows under pressure from external forces?

Charles—as she supposed she ought to call him now—didn’t say a word to anyone after he’d forgotten her name. She hadn’t been surprised by his hesitation. She was fairly certain he had never listened to a vicar a day in his life.

She tried to read his expression after the ceremony ended, but he continuously averted his gaze with a rigid shift of his jaw. Was he intentionally behaving like an entitled child, speaking so harshly to his parents and selfishly thinking of only how his life and future had been affected? He deserved grace due to the shock he’d just received, but then, did she not deserve some in return?

The next few moments passed by swiftly as Father urged Marie to return with the Shepherds to Grendale.

“No use prolonging the inevitable,” he whispered to her with an embrace. “I am so proud of the woman you have become.”

Marie was grateful to have her father’s approval. Now, at least, she would be out of his hair. After all, what father would want his almost-twenty-eight-year-old daughter in his house forever?

Doing as she was told, Marie followed the Shepherds to the carriage awaiting them on the drive of Westburn. The rain poured around them, so the families said their goodbyes in the shelter of the front awning.

No tears were shed between her and her parents, nor did she expect any. The Oakleys were not a family who showed tender emotions—leaving room for more comfortable feelings like frustration or anger.

After an embrace from Mother, Marie walked with the Shepherds out into the rain, a footman shielding her from the waterdrops as he walked alongside her with an open umbrella.

She had only made it two steps down from the front stairs when she noticed Charles heading for his horse that had been brought around the same time as the carriage.

Mrs. Shepherd must have noticed her son, as well, for she called out through the rain. “Charles? Charles!”

He hesitated, then turned around to face her. His top hat covered his head, and the collar of his great coat was propped high to prevent the rain from draining down his back. “Yes, Mother?”

He really was a fine-looking gentleman. Unassuming eyes, straight nose, quite symmetrical features all the way around. What a shame they did not match who he was on the inside.

“Do you not think it wise to travel with your new bride?” Mrs. Shepherd said in a lighthearted tone, though her eyes spoke far more firmly.

Charles stared at his horse longingly before stalking toward the carriage instead. “A fine idea, Mother.”

Marie tried to stop her thoughts from running rampant about the man’s behavior, but honestly, he was so juvenile.

Mr. Shepherd helped his wife and Marie into the carriage first, then he whispered to Charles audibly.

“This will make it easier for all of us, son. Allow us an opportunity to get to know one another, you see.”

Charles didn’t respond, entering the carriage last and taking the empty spot next to Marie.

As the carriage left Westburn House and bumped and bounced from the gravel drive to the dirt roads of the countryside, an awkward silence echoed loudly until Mrs. Shepherd spoke with a warm smile.