Chapter Fourteen #3
Joy swallowed hard to keep from weeping as she touched the deep-blue pendant surrounded by diamonds. “I wish Mama could be here.”
“We all do,” Serendipity said, then turned away and cleared her throat. “You are certain about this?”
“I never believed I could feel this way about anyone.” Joy pulled in a shaky breath and eased it back out. “I know it will take years to obtain what Mama and Papa had, but I feel as if I have a good start. The foundation is there to build upon.”
Serendipity hugged her, pressing her cheek to hers. “I am glad, sister. I am truly glad.” She squeezed her again. “And you look so beautiful in the blue.”
“He said blue was the color I wore the first time he saw me, Season before last. I thought it appropriate.”
“I agree.”
Felicity burst through the door with Grace and Blessing hot on her heels, all of them chattering at once and sounding rather heated. “Joy,” Felicity said, her eyes snapping, “will you please inform your sisters that you approved meat to be served at your wedding breakfast?”
“Last I checked, they were your sisters, too.”
“Joy! Please!” Felicity appeared to be on the verge of tears.
Joy rose and pointed first at Grace, then at Blessing. “Leave her alone. I gave her my approval to prepare whatever she wished, and she has done so. I am sure it will be wonderful. If you see something you do not like, don’t eat it. Understand? Why must you two always push her to tears?”
“She uses tears to get her way,” Blessing said.
“That’s right,” Grace agreed.
“Just listen to yourselves. Are you two not married with children of your own?” Joy couldn’t believe their behavior. “Mama would be ashamed of you both, picking on Felicity the way you do.”
“I sided with Felicity,” Merry said as she entered the dressing room. “You should see the banquet she has overseen. It looks absolutely scrumptious.”
“I am sure it does.” Joy hugged Felicity and gave her a reassuring smile. “Stay the course, Feli. Be you, not someone’s idea of you…all right?”
“What will I ever do without you, Joy?” Felicity gave her a sad pout.
“I am marrying—not setting off for the Continent or the colonies. I’ll either be in London or Winterswick, here in the country. Always within visiting distance, and you are always welcome—understood?”
“And me too?” Merry asked.
“Everyone is always welcome,” Joy said, feeling generous. “This is my wedding day. Peace should reign. Please?”
Grace and Blessing had the good manners to look abashed. Fortuity and Serendipity assumed a superior demeanor for not chiming in on the battle, and Felicity and Merry seemed victorious. All was once again as it should be.
Joy nervously smoothed her hands along the silk folds of her gown. “I suppose I am ready.” The tea she’d had earlier churned even harder at the announcement. “Good heavens, I hope I don’t cast up my accounts all over his shoes.”
Fortuity handed her a knotted handkerchief. “Fresh mint leaves in the sachet. Breathe it in. It will help settle your stomach. As it starts to fade, crush it more to make it stronger.”
After a deep inhale of the cleansing scent, Joy did feel as though her tea would stay put. “Thank you, Fortuity. I feel much better.”
“Shall we go downstairs, then?” Serendipity asked.
“Yes.” Joy breathed in the mint again, then kept tight hold of it as they filed out and joined the rest of the family outside in the garden. It was a glorious day for a wedding, sunny, bright, and breezy, as if the Almighty Himself had already blessed the union.
Jansen looked magnificent, smiling and proud as though he had just battled the greatest of enemies and won.
Joy’s heart fluttered into her throat as she strolled toward him. Who would have thought she could ever feel this way? As if she had finally found that part of her life she’d been missing so long.
“You are stunning as always,” Jansen whispered as she took her place at his side.
“As are you, my wonderful knight.”
The vicar—a Mr. Peabody she had never met—cleared his throat. His unsmiling countenance made it clear he did not approve of pre-vow whispers.
Joy squared her shoulders and lifted her chin higher. “Press on, Mr. Peabody. We have a wedding breakfast to get to.”
The man’s bushy black brows knotted over his eyes, reminding her of the woolly worms she often saw in the garden. “Yes. Well, then. I have been informed you do not wish the service read from the Book of Common Prayer, as is usual? I do not approve, but I will allow it.”
“Very good of you,” Jansen said.
Joy held her breath to keep from laughing.
Mr. Peabody glared at Jansen, then nodded as he unfolded a piece of paper and began reading, “Do you, Sir Jansen Winterstone, take Lady Joy Elizabeth Marigold Abarough to be your lawful wedded wife? Vow to keep her in sickness and health, protect her while in the light and in the darkness, and cherish her for all the remaining years of your life?”
Jansen took hold of Joy’s hand and pressed a kiss to it. “I do so swear upon my body and soul to be the husband this woman deserves.”
“Yes. Well.” The vicar cleared his throat again and turned to Joy.
“Do you, Lady Joy Elizabeth Marigold Abarough, take Sir Jansen Winterstone to be your lawful wedded husband? Vow to cherish him in sickness and health, support him in the light and the darkness, and cling to him in love and joy for all the remaining years of your life?”
“I do swear upon my body and soul to be the wife this man deserves.” Joy swallowed hard, then took a deep inhale of mint to keep from vomiting up her tea.
“Then by the power vested in me by the Almighty and the Church of England, I do hereby pronounce you husband and wife. Let no man put asunder that which God Himself hath joined. Amen.”
Amen echoed through the garden, then everyone cheered and clapped. The Abarough family was anything but quiet.
“Here you are, vicar,” Chance said as he handed the man a bulging leather wallet. “Thank you for the preferred ceremony, and do feel free to join us at the breakfast.”
Mr. Peabody bowed. “Thank you, Your Grace. I would be most honored to have a nibble or two.”
“I do not like that man,” Joy whispered to Jansen as they turned to go. “I cannot believe we had to make such a sizable donation to get the brief ceremony we wanted.” She felt sure the Almighty would share the same dim view of the avaricious vicar.
Jansen patted her hand as he settled it more snugly into the crook of his arm. “We are married. That is all that matters, my love.”
“Yes.” She took another long sniff of her mint sachet and silently thanked Fortuity for her wisdom.
“We are man and wife at long last.” At present, she had no desire to eat, but wasn’t about to disappoint Felicity.
What weighed heavily on her mind now was capturing their blackmailer so she could avoid a confrontation with Chance.
“If only we could discover our blackmailer. Wouldn’t that be a lovely wedding present? ”
“It would indeed, my darling. It would indeed.” Jansen turned her toward the library rather than the dining room. “After we sign the registry, perhaps we can observe everyone while they relax with cakes and chocolates. With any luck, someone will slip.”
“Fine. I wish Aurelia were here to help us. She is such a keen observer.”
“Yes, but she wanted to ensure Ambrose was out by the time we returned. She knew he couldn’t be trusted to leave without someone there nipping at his heels. And we certainly didn’t want him here.”
“To be honest,” Joy said, “I suspected him.” She halted, afraid she’d offended her new husband. “I am sorry.”
“Do not be sorry, my darling. I suspected him as well.”
“But according to Mr. Rathbun—”
“Mr. Rathbun is double-checking, per my instructions.”
A sense of relief filled her. “What a lovely wedding present,” she said. “Now I do not have to speak with my brother. At least—not yet.”
“No, my angel.” Jansen smiled down at her. “Not until you are ready.”