Epilogue
The church bells rang just as Eliza entered the churchyard, as if announcing her arrival. Making her way inside, she paused in the vestibule, aware that through the next large, wooden door, her betrothed was waiting.
"Are you anxious, my dear?"
Eliza took the bouquet of roses from her aunt's hand and smiled back at her. "I am not anxious in the least," she said honestly. "Somewhat nervous, I will admit, but I have been eagerly anticipating this day for the last few weeks."
Lady Newark returned her smile, elegant in dove-grey silk. "I am glad to hear it. I am truly delighted for you, Eliza." There was a quiet satisfaction in her smile, a look of joy in her eyes. "I know that your future is happy and secure."
"It is," Eliza agreed softly. "Thank you, Aunt, for all that you have done to secure my happiness.
" Lady Newark had overseen every detail of this day with precision and care, ensuring that nothing — not society, nor family, nor past difficulty — could cast a shadow upon it.
"It is appreciated by both myself and by Ashcombe. "
"It was a joy." Leaning forward, she kissed Eliza's cheek, then settled the veil so that it fell lightly over Eliza's features. "I think, my dearest, that you are quite ready. All we need now is Lady Sarah."
A knot came into Eliza's throat, tears of happiness threatening.
This moment held such significance, such weight; it was difficult to take it all in.
Looking down at her ivory satin gown, she smoothed her gloved hands over it, spreading out invisible wrinkles.
She wore no jewels beyond a single pearl pendant resting just above her heart.
That had been a gift from Lady Newark, given without ceremony but with deep affection — and perhaps with it the awareness that Eliza had no jewels of her own of which to speak, given that her father had spent all of his wealth on gambling and paying debts.
She touched it lightly, then turned her head, just as Lady Sarah stepped in, her pale blue muslin gown matching the color of her eyes.
"My dear Eliza! Forgive my tardiness; the horse lost a shoe." She smiled, came forward and took Eliza's hand in her own. "You are beyond beautiful, my friend. I am truly delighted for you."
"I thank you," Eliza answered, just as the door to the chapel itself opened. "If you are quite ready, then I think it is time."
Sarah nodded and stepped forward, ready to go ahead of her. From beyond the chapel door came the low murmur of voices as the congregation slowly settled to quiet. Among them, Eliza knew, would be her father.
When Eliza had returned home some two days prior to prepare for her marriage, her father had been somewhat abrupt in his welcome.
His congratulations had been stiff, his gaze sharp with calculation as he had gone on to question her not only about her inheritance but the wealth and situation of her new husband.
Eliza had seen his desire plainly enough but had not allowed the pain of his disinterest in her herself to affect her heart.
Lord Ashcombe was to be her husband, the one who would listen to her, cherish her, comfort her, love her.
Her father, it seemed, was never going to change.
She had insisted that the inheritance was secured beyond his reach, had told him plainly that his debts still clung to him and would not be removed by her...
and then she had walked away and thought only of her future.
That had been enough.
"Are you quite ready, Eliza?"
"I am." The organ began its prelude, and Eliza took her aunt's arm, fully aware that it was not at all what society expected.
Usually, a young lady would walk with her father, but on this occasion — and due to his shame and inconsideration of her — it had been decided that he would remain near the front and do nothing other than watch the proceedings.
Lord Ashcombe had chuckled when she had told him, saying that he had anticipated they would start their married life together without the whispers of the ton around them.
The way he had grinned at her had been a promise that he did not truly care for it, and thus, when her aunt offered her arm, Eliza placed her hand upon it without hesitation.
Together, they stepped inside and, as the gathered guests rose, Eliza felt a sudden kick of nervousness at the weight of their attention.
Keeping her gaze forward, her steps steadied themselves as she kept her head high, seeing Mr. Ashcombe standing beside the altar, tall and solemn and steadfast as he nudged his brother.
She was dimly aware of her father seated in the front pew. He did not look at her as she passed, his gaze remaining fixed forward, his expression rigid. Eliza knew that he was present only because it was expected for him to be so, not because his heart inclined him to see his one and only daughter.
I do not require his approval nor his happiness, she told herself as she reached Lord Ashcombe. I have Ashcombe now, and he will never fail me.
"Dearly beloved," the clergyman began as Eliza stood, arm in arm with her aunt.
"We are gathered together here in the sight of God, and in the face of this congregation, to join together this man and this woman in holy Matrimony.
Therefore," he continued, his voice steady, "if any man can show any just cause why they may not lawfully be joined together, let him now speak, or else hereafter forever hold his peace. "
There was only the briefest pause and, when the clergyman turned his attention towards them both, she smiled behind her veil, feeling not even a single tremor of doubt.
"Nathaniel, Viscount Ashcombe," the clergyman said, turning towards the viscount.
"Will you have this woman to thy wedded wife, to live together after God's ordinance in the holy estate of matrimony?
Will you love her, comfort her, honor, and keep her in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep only to her, so long as you both shall live? "
"I will."
Eliza's heart leapt with the promise so quickly given, a promise that she knew he would not only keep but demonstrate every day of their lives together.
"And you, Miss Eliza Fairleigh," the clergyman continued, turning to her, "will you have this man as your wedded husband? Will you love him, comfort him, honor him, and submit to him in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, keep only to him, so long as you both shall live?"
Despite her determination to speak boldly, her words came out as a whisper. "I will."
The vows soon followed, with Lord Ashcombe speaking them first and then Eliza thereafter.
Her aunt freed Eliza's hand from her arm and placed it in Lord Ashcombe's, the first touch of his hand setting her alight.
She turned to face Lord Ashcombe fully, her hand still in his, and spoke the words given to her, speaking them only to him.
She looked down to see the gold band he placed upon her finger, warm from his hand, so unfamiliar upon her hand and yet so welcome.
It meant that she was tied to him, that she would now always be his, just as they had both long desired.
Tears burned in her eyes as the clergyman gave his concluding words, promising them both to each other and to the care of God.
"I pronounce Lord Ashcombe and Miss Fairleigh to be husband and wife. Those whom God hath joined together, let no man separate."
A quiet murmur of approval passed through the chapel, but Eliza barely heard it, her gaze fixed on Lord Ashcombe as he lifted her veil and separated the only barrier between them.
A deep longing for his kiss pushed into her veins but, restrained, she could only offer him a smile — one which he himself returned.
She understood the promise there, the desire to pull her into his arms and clasp her tight to himself.
It would not be long now.
"If you would follow me now to the signing of the register." The clergyman gestured to a small table to the side of the chapel. "We will soon have you outside, greeted with love and affection by all who came to join you this day."
Putting her arm through Lord Ashcombe's, Eliza followed after the clergyman, hearing the room quieten as she sat down, directed where to put her name by the clergyman himself.
It was Lord Ashcombe's turn thereafter and, as she stood, Eliza noticed the way the church slowly began to empty.
She spoke first, her voice bright, as she took Lord Ashcombe's arm again, walking together down the aisle.
"They are prepared for us, I think," she said, as Lord Ashcombe chuckled softly. "But pray, do not let us linger too long, husband. I should like to begin our life together very soon."
Slowing his steps, Lord Ashcombe looked down into her eyes.
"As do I," he promised, lifting her hand to his lips and pressing a kiss to it.
Eliza shivered lightly, feeling lighter than she had ever felt before.
The sun shone with all its strength as they stepped out of the door and into the afternoon sunshine, greeted with cheers of delight as rice and flower petals danced over them.
Her aunt stepped forward and caught Eliza up in an embrace, her eyes filled with tears. "My dear niece," she said softly as Eliza hugged her tightly. "How very happy I am for you."
"As am I."
As Lady Newark stepped back, Lady Sarah came to take her place. "That was most wonderful," she sighed, as Eliza caught her hands and grinned. "I do not think that I have ever seen you so happy."
"That is because I have never known such happiness as fills me in this moment," Eliza admitted, looking over Lady Sarah's shoulder to where her husband stood, being warmly congratulated by his friends.
"I did not ever think that I would find myself here, in a place where I am not only happily and joyfully married but with an inheritance all of my own. "
"Not that you require it," came a response, making Eliza stiffen. She turned, seeing her father approaching. "That fortune of yours, I did wonder if — "
"Eliza, I am afraid that I must hurry you towards our carriage."
"Ashcombe, might I offer you my congratulations?" Lady Newark beamed and then pressed a kiss to his cheek, as if to make it quite clear that she was as much his aunt as well as Eliza's. "You wish to take Eliza back to the house for the wedding breakfast?"
"Yes, I do. I think it wise to continue with the festivities there.
" Without another word and only a smile to Eliza, he took her hand and swept her away, leaving Lady Newark, Lady Sarah and her father to stand together.
When Eliza glanced over her shoulder, her father stood with resentment burning in his eyes.
She dismissed it without difficulty.
"I thank you, Ashcombe," she said, as a crowd of well-wishers surrounded the carriage, waving them goodbye. "You took me from my father before his conversation could become difficult."
"I did, didn't I?" With a chuckle, he pressed her hand as they waved farewell. "My dear Eliza, you must know that I will do anything I have to when it comes to your happiness — and I know that your father's presence does not bring you a good deal of joy." His smile faded. "I am sorry for that."
"But I have you by my side now, do I not?" she asked, as the carriage began to roll away. "I do not need to be concerned about my father's manner, his behavior, his choices, nor his weaknesses any longer. Not when I have you. You are all that matters to me, Ashcombe. My husband. My love. My joy."
The space was suddenly quiet and intimate, the only sound the creak of leather and the turn of wheels as Lord Ashcombe looked into her eyes.
Then, he lifted his hand and brushed his fingers along her cheek, a gentle smile on his lips.
Eliza leaned into the touch willingly, her own hand finding his free one as she laced their fingers together.
Their kiss was unhurried and private, filled with warmth and promise rather than urgency. It was their first as husband and wife, a promise of the many joys yet to come. Lord Ashcombe sighed contentedly as she rested her head on his shoulder, her hand still in his.
"You have made me the happiest man in all of England," he said, as she tilted her eyes up towards him. "I love you dearly, Eliza."
"I love you, Ashcombe," she promised, her happiness complete. "And I always shall."