Epilogue
Silas took a deep breath and sat down.
Then he stood up almost immediately and began pacing around again.
Elliot – the new butler – sighed and pulled out his pocket watch to check the time, noting that his master had been at this anxious parade for over fifteen minutes.
He would catch himself being too fussy and sit, only to promptly rise to his feet moments later to continue pacing about his dressing room.
“Your Grace,” Elliot tried, “If you do not calm down, you might end up wearing yourself out before you actually get to the ceremony.”
Silas sighed, ready to sink to his knees and die from nervousness.
“I can't help it,” he groaned, fisting his hands by his sides to keep him from running it through his hair.
He had done that earlier and messed up his locks, giving his valet a heart attack.
“What if… what if she changes her mind? What if she realizes that my past is far too complicated and feels that I cannot be trusted and leaves?”
Elliot walked up to him and gently placed his hands on Silas’ shoulders, keeping him still for a bit.
“Your Grace, let me ask you this: do you love her?”
“I do,” Silas replied without hesitation.
“And you trust her?”
“With my life.”
The butler nodded with a knowing smile.
“If you feel so strongly about her, then you should believe that she feels the same about you. I can tell that she cares for you deeply, your Grace, and loves you just as much as you love her. Do not let fear taint the pure connection between you both. Just breathe and listen to your heart.”
Silas took a deep breath, attempting to soothe his frayed nerves. Soon, he felt calmer, less anxious and more eager to see his bride. Elliot smiled with satisfaction and released his hold over his master.
“Very good, Your Grace. The time to leave is nearly here. You simply have to hold on till then.”
“Right,” Silas swallowed. “Thank you.”
“Anytime, Your Grace.”
The Dowager Duchess walked in a moment later, eyeing her grandson warily before pointing at him and addressing his butler.
“I expected him to be vomiting the contents of his breakfast into a potted plant from distress.”
“Sometimes, Grandmother, I get the distinct feeling that you do not like me very much,” Silas quipped, wholly unimpressed by her words.
“You say that like you expect me to refute that. After today, you will not be the only one I have to dote on. I’ll have a lovely granddaughter-in-law, and she is less frustrating than you are,” she replied in the same dry tone he had used.
“Oh, what a shame. However will I go on living?”
She rolled her eyes and beckoned him closer, straightening his tie a bit.
“How do you feel?”
“… a little less likely to vomit,” he admitted.
“That’s my boy,” she nodded and then offered him a kind, motherly smile.
“I am really proud of you. I don’t think I tell you enough, but you grew up wonderfully.
Thank you for being the embodiment of all the love my Nicholas had to give.
I am very sure he is just as pleased with who you are as I am. ”
Silas felt his eyes sting for a moment and leaned forward to embrace the woman, holding her tightly for a moment.
“Thank you, Grandmother. For everything.”
She patted his back gently, smiling fondly. “You are quite welcome, my love. Always.”
They separated just as someone knocked on the door. Elliot went forward to open it, stepping aside so the valet could come in.
“Your Graces, it’s time.”
Alexandra faced her grandson and questioned, “are you ready?”
“Not quite.”
“Good. It’s more thrilling that way. Neither I nor your grandfather felt truly ready on our wedding day. But we let love lead, and it ended up giving us the most wonderful day. Yours will be no less.”
Silas straightened himself and lifted his chin, reminding himself that he had longed for this and that his betrothed loved him just as much as he loved her. And so, he took one last deep breath, prayed that his grandfather would watch over him – lest he make a fool of himself – and stepped forward.
“I’m ready.”
The staff had outdone themselves with the decorations.
The wedding was being held on his property, with chairs on the grass in two different rows, between which a deep red carpet had been placed, leading to the gazebo, which was to serve as the altar.
Silver, white and gray vases contained beautiful flowers and were placed around the area, matching the ribbons on the chairs and the banners used to decorate the gazebo.
The only guests that were to attend the wedding were the staff members, along with the family of the bride and groom, and just seeing all the familiar faces he had either grown up with or lived around for quite a while made Silas feel relieved.
His grandmother sat right in front, with Simon on her left, both of them smiling encouragingly at him.
A quartet had been hired to play, and when the violinist began, Silas thought he felt the world tilt for a slight moment.
His emotions felt confused, as though his mind and body felt two different things: anticipation and nervousness, and the clash was breaking him down.
Then he spotted a flash of white and shifted his focus to it, his jaw-dropping at the sight of his bride walking towards him.
Agnes was escorted by her godmother, stepping delicately as she approached him, looking absolutely heaven-sent in her wedding dress, the veil being carried by her lady’s maid and the cook’s daughter.
In her hands were a bouquet of pink roses tied together by a white ribbon.
All of Silas’ doubts and concerns melted into nothing, leaving behind the hum of his beating heart.
Agnes’ godmother brought her to stand by Silas, kissing her cheek and winking at her groom before she made her way to sit on the Dowager Duchess’ other side, the both of them smiling happily at each other. Silas continued to stare at Agnes, and she giggled, leaning forward to whisper,
“You look very handsome too.”
“I can barely hold a light to you, my love,” he confessed as the music faded and the vicar stepped forward.
She gave him one last smile before they both shifted their focus to the man.
He began the ceremony by reading from the Book of Common Prayers, officially starting their marriage rites.
If Silas was asked, he would truthfully admit that he lost most of the words being recited, too focused on how breathtaking his wife was.
She seemed to bloom beneath his gaze, looking even more beautiful with every passing minute, her eyes conveying just how much she loved him.
“… thirdly, it was ordained for the mutual society, help and comfort, that the one ought to have the other, both in prosperity and adversity. Into which holy estate these two persons present came now to be joined. Therefore, if any man can show any just cause, why they may not lawfully be joined together, let him speak now, or else hereafter forever hold his peace.”
No one responded or moved, and the vicar carried on, soon coming to the vows, and before Silas knew what was happening, he had been handed the ring to put on the fourth finger of his bride’s left hand. With his heart in his throat, he held onto the ring and echoed the words the vicar spoke to him.
“With this ring, I thee wed, with my body, I thee worship, and with all my worldly goods, I thee endow. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.”
He gently slipped the ring onto her finger and held onto her hand as they went down on their knees for the prayer.
All the while, Silas imagined their life together from the moment they had met up until this point.
He remembered how much he disliked her when she challenged him about his horse, how irritated he felt when she refused to listen to him and how she seemed to grate on every nerve of his.
And then, little by little, he learned to care for someone else besides himself and learned to listen.
To love. And now, he would get to spend an eternity with the precious soul who essentially saved his life.
For the longest time, he had felt wretched, perhaps even cursed.
But Agnes had come to him as a blessing, and now, she was his, as he was hers.
She turned to him slightly and gave his hand a light squeeze as though she could feel his thoughts and echoed the same sentiment, and not for the first time that day, Silas looked forward to their future together.
Agnes stared at the shiny silver band on her finger, somehow still in disbelief, even though the event had ended hours ago.
She had done it. She had married the love of her life. She now had a husband.
For the umpteenth time that day, tears filled her eyes, and she sniffled, shuffling closer to her husband’s side. His arm wrapped around her immediately, and he pressed a kiss to her forehead gently.
“Love, your tears are breaking my heart.”
“But they’re happy tears!” she exclaimed, pouting as he wiped her cheeks.
“They are a little worrisome because you seemingly have been crying on and off since the ceremony ended.” He pouted back, leaning in to kiss the corner of her lips.
“Silas,” she scolded, glancing down the corridor that led to the ballroom where they were heading for their dinner party. “Not in public.”
“Oh, so you would rather I kiss you privately? Why didn’t you say so earlier? Come along then.”
Before she could realize that something was afoot, he had steered her away from the direction they had been walking to and was instead leading her to his bedroom.
“S-Silas! Our dinner!”
“Don’t worry,” he grinned over his shoulder, “I bet they won't even miss us.”
She glared at him playfully. “I hardly think that is possible – given it is our wedding day and that dinner party is being thrown in our honor.”
He pulled her into the room, shut the door and pressed her against it, kissing her slow and sweet. As quickly as ever, she melted against him, heart fluttering as his tongue teased hers.