Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
The wedding day came a mere three days later.
It was a simple ceremony, by all counts.
Seeing no reason to postpone what had already been decided, Richard had relented eventually about the bishop’s license.
And he stood by the altar now at the parish church, the nervous solicitor as his witness, as Adelaide marched down the aisle on their hired butler’s arm.
She was beautiful, as always—her features and frame delicate. She braved the ceremony stoically, which was hardly what Richard expected of a bride. But he acknowledged privately that it was better this way than having her be a blubbering mess.
Percy and Cousin Sarah appeared halfway through the vows, a surprise, given the short nature of Richard’s engagement. Richard caught, from the side of his eyes, the surprise on both their faces when they laid eyes on Adelaide, no doubt taken aback by her similarity to the late Catherine Pershing.
But that was hardly the main concern today. And with no one protesting the validity of the marriage, the ceremony concluded quickly. Miss Ravenstone perched triumphantly to the side throughout the event, her smug satisfaction written all over her prickly features.
It was not surprising, when one thought about it. Despite her heartless machinations, Miss Ravenstone had managed to get exactly what she wished for: a quick and advantageous marriage for her niece, as well as the groom’s ready acquiescence to relinquishing any claim to any dowry.
The agreement came with conditions, of course.
Richard was not fool enough to have given in so entirely, and he had it written into their contract that Miss Ravenstone was to provide properly for Macy and swear off future dependence upon Adelaide.
Haunted by the concern that seemed to weigh heavily with Adelaide, Richard had gone so far as to have it included in the document that Macy must be treated as a lady of the house, not a servant.
And while Miss Ravenstone had initially appeared reluctant to agree, a simple glare from Richard and a reminder that he could easily ask a solicitor to look into where Adelaide’s dowry had disappeared had quickly softened Miss Ravenstone’s position.
So now, he was married—to a beautiful bride who looked as if she was trying her very best to appear happy with the match.
Percy and Sarah approached to offer their congratulations as soon as they were out the church doors.
“Richard, dear, we offer our most heartfelt congratulations.” Cousin Sarah approached with a wary smile. “To think we wouldn’t have known if my maid hadn’t told me.”
“Ah.” Richard nodded. “Servants’ gossip is always so dependable.”
“Wouldn’t know what to do without them.”
Richard, Percy, and Sarah shared a chuckle. He turned to introduce his bride. “Please allow me. This is Miss—that is, Mrs. Adelaide Avington. Adelaide, Mr. and Mrs. Percival St. John.”
Adelaide curtsied prettily, the trimmings of her best dress shimmering under the sunlight, and accepted the family’s congratulations. But just like during the ceremony, her dark eyes darted everywhere, looking constantly as if she were on the brink of tears.
Richard might not have been a fool enough to agree to all of Miss Ravenstone’s conditions, but he was apparently a fool enough to have married a woman he barely knew, a woman who barely wished to be married, no less.
Richard tucked his sigh under his breath as their carriage pulled up. He’d requested a simple celebration, even a private breakfast, if only to avoid the appearance of his having impregnated the lady and whisking her away to hide her physical state.
Given the tension that seemed to ripple underneath everyone’s interactions this morning, he was beginning to wonder if ending the wedding events as briefly as possible would have been a wiser course of action.
The young solicitor stepped up eagerly into the second carriage, no doubt enjoying the opportunity to ride gratis, followed by Miss Ravenstone and the hired butler.
Richard couldn’t help but think that the satisfaction being experienced by those in the second conveyance likely far exceeded those about to ride the first.
But what choice did he have? Even if it was not the wisest decision to see the wedding through, his honor was at stake. And, furthermore, the very thought of relinquishing Adelaide back to her aunt’s various schemes without his protection was as appalling a thought as could be.
Adelaide might not love him, and he himself might not quite love her, not in the way his brothers and cousins seemed to love their spouses.
But he was willing to foster that love, while providing Adelaide the protections of his name and his home. Hadn’t his own brother Edgar had to marry his wife first and then court her later? Surely, Richard could do the same.
“I suppose we aren’t invited to the wedding breakfast?” Cousin Sarah asked gently. She was right, of course. It was not the thing at all to insert oneself into private events, even if one might be welcomed by the groom.
Richard sighed. “Thank you for coming today.”
“We wish you the very, very best.”
“Thank you.”
He needed those good wishes. He had a feeling he was going to need them very much indeed.
In the shadowed little valley between the house and the carriage, with the light contents of their modest wedding breakfast lingering in his stomach, Richard watched his new wife embrace the girl she called Macy.
“You promise you will be well?” Macy sniffed.
She clung to Adelaide tightly, almost like a devoted pet to its master.
It was clear that the two cared deeply for one another, even as the exact nature of their bond remained a mystery.
It was a mystery Richard hoped to unravel one day, although he contented himself to remain a spectator for the moment.
Once he had the privacy afforded a husband and wife, he would have plenty of opportunities to inquire about Adelaide’s family. He would make sure to keep Miss Ravenstone far away from earshot, preferably a few counties away, before those conversations took place.
“I do promise.” Adelaide sniffed as she pulled back. “And you, too. Write me, please—about anything.”
Macy nodded. Tears streamed down the young girl’s face. Adelaide managed little better.
“I will try,” said Macy.
“And if anything—anyone should cause you distress, please tell me.”
“Of course. But how can I bear it when I know that you—"
“I think it high time the newly-wedded couple depart.” Miss Ravenstone interrupted by way of a loud voice and a firm hand pulling Macy backwards by the elbow. “We cannot while the whole day away.”
Macy frowned and hung her head. Richard’s heart squeezed at the sight of Adelaide’s worry.
But this was a battle he would rather fight another day. One life-changing event was enough for the present. He would look into the sundry complications of the Pershing family history another time, on a day when he had not just taken a wife.
“Shall we?” He spoke to his bride.
Meekly, Adelaide entered their carriage, evident tears pricking at her eyes.
Richard turned to bow at the two remaining ladies on the pavement before boarding himself.
The doors shut. The horses neighed. And then it was only the two of them, Colonel and Mrs. Avington, driving away—to Avington House for the night, and then to his estate in Norfolk the following day.
Richard sank back against the cushions, his soldier’s frame occupying a good third of the carriage. To his right, Adelaide gathered her skirts towards herself as if in apology and hunched into herself.
Richard frowned. Even if she didn’t sob as openly as Macy did, her quiet sorrow was discomfiting on what was supposed to be a happy occasion.
He let silence linger for the first few streets they navigated. Then he cleared his throat “Are you quite well, Adelaide?”
She started as if she had forgotten all about him. Then quickly, she met his eye as she frantically swiped away a few stray tears. “Of course.”
Richard tried to be courteous. “I suppose you shall miss your family and your home.”
She paused for a moment, as if surprised at his comment. Then she said quietly, “Yes, of course. Though I’m sure I shall be accustomed to it eventually.”
“Accustomed to being apart from them.”
“Accustomed to—marriage.”
Her last word lingered inside the carriage like a curse, casting a pall of doubt over the day’s events.
Richard felt his frown deepen. He hadn’t been particularly keen to marry this Season, particularly not after he’d witnessed the shallow debauchery of the London scene.
But ever since he’d blurted out his marriage proposal the night of the assembly, he’d been devoted to this path.
He would marry, and he would be a husband, and he would devote himself to being as a good a husband, landlord, and father as his own had been.
It was unfortunate that his young wife did not seem to be as determined about the entire business.
“Adelaide,” he began without quite knowing what he was about to say, “if you have concerns about the marriage, pray, do tell.”
“No, not that. I—I wouldn’t dare.”
He cast a sidelong view her way. Where was the strong young woman with an old soul who complied outwardly with her aunt and yet stood firm against coercion within? The pale, frail being beside him appeared so altered that even Richard was beginning to worry.
He leaned closer. She stiffened.
“I hope you do understand that we have vowed, before man and God, to share the remainder of our earthly lives with each other,” he said as earnestly as he could. “And I have every intention to be the best husband I am capable of being.”
She nodded mutely.
Where was the woman’s tongue?
A coil of panic wound itself around Richard’s heart. For all his noble purposes, he had chosen to marry a stranger. And all the desire to erase his bitter memories of Catherine Pershing, or to fill his darkened world with new purpose, could not sweep away that fact.