Chapter 8
J oanna’s heart sank and her hands grew cold as her father drew an arm around her and ushered her forward without another word. Holding fast to her composure, Joanna let her eyes rest on the tiles at her feet, following the spiraling patterns that filled the nave and ended at the altar.
Mr. Poole spoke the opening words, expounding on the importance of this moment and asking them each to pledge their troth. Joanna echoed Dr. Vaughn, reciting without thinking, but when her father lifted her hand to place it into her soon-to-be husband’s, she was turned toward the gentleman to whom she was binding herself, body and soul.
His dark brows pulled tight together as he watched her, his brown eyes burning with such worry that Joanna’s own began to prickle. Blinking, she forced back the threatening tears and lost herself in the sight of so much consideration directed at her. Dr. Vaughn studied her as no one ever had before—without criticism or dismissal, just genuine concern. On her behalf.
Everything else faded from view, leaving only her and him. For all that ladies fretted and fussed over flowers and wedding breakfasts, Joanna couldn’t imagine a more perfect moment. The pair of them, taking this solemn and irrevocable step together. Husband and wife.
She drew in a shaky breath, and her lips trembled as they pulled into a smile. His furrowed brow relaxed in turn, and they stood hand in hand as Mr. Poole moved through the vows. Pausing only a moment before she recited her own, Joanna embraced the words and the meaning beneath them. Though she still felt dizzy at the thought that this was truly happening, she didn’t question it any longer.
The long-awaited day had arrived, and she stood at the marriage altar with a gentleman who was everything she’d ever hoped for in a husband. Her Edward. Even thinking his given name sent a shiver down her spine that settled into her stomach, though she had every right to use it.
Lifting her hand, Edward slid a ring onto her finger, and her breath caught at the sight. The golden band was thin, though it widened at the top, growing large enough to encapsulate the inset gem. Little lines of gold reached over the jewel almost like tiny petals framing the stone. The yellow contrasted beautifully with the pale blue, and the piece was lovely in its simplicity.
When Joanna’s eyes rose to meet Edward’s, she found him watching her with just a touch of apprehension, as though he was uncertain as to whether or not she liked the token—but she couldn’t think of anything better. She beamed, and the gentleman let out a breath, his shoulders relaxing as their hands entwined.
And now, Joanna struggled doubly hard to keep from weeping.
With the final words spoken and the prayers given, the ceremony ended, though Joanna couldn’t help but feel as though something so momentous required a grand display to mark the end. Granted, she couldn’t imagine what that would be. Applause in a sacred place was hardly befitting. A kiss felt apropos (given the circumstances), but the thought of such a public display set her cheeks blazing.
But before she could think what to do, Mr. Poole ushered them around to the vestry, which was little more than a cupboard that was filled to the brim with records. Stacks of papers sat in neat rows along some shelves whilst books lined the rest; everything seemed in its proper place, and the smell of tallow blended with that of the incense and paper stored there.
A pedestal sat in the middle, and the registry was already open to the proper page. Edward’s uncle and Papa came forward to sign as the witnesses before Joanna and her new husband added their signatures, though she could hardly focus on the actions with Edward’s hand still holding hers. Despite their gloves, the touch set her pulse racing. Though she had grasped many a hand during a dance or chivalrous moment when assistance was required, she had never properly held a man’s hand before, and Edward’s fingers remained entwined with hers.
The others continued discussing some nuance of the ceremony, license, or certificate, whilst Joanna found herself ensconced in a corner with her new husband, looking at one another as though entirely uncertain what to do with themselves. Whatever it was that kept the others so occupied, the trio left to see to it, leaving the couple in the vestry.
And for the first time in her life, Joanna Crosby was alone with Edward Vaughn.
That thought shocked her, leaving her stupefied and blinking as she considered her new self. Joanna Vaughn. That was her name now, and as much as she’d spent a fair bit of time over the years pretending the moniker was hers, it would take time for it to feel real.
Standing there with his attention fully on her, Joanna longed to know every thought that was bouncing about his head. For all that he looked like a carefree society gentleman, she’d always sensed so much more beneath the smiling surface, and she grinned as she considered that she would have a lifetime to uncover it all.
Joanna turned her bright expression to him, holding his gaze as her heart burned within her. She’d never imagined such joy before, and it pulsed in her veins, filling her with such strength and contentment. For all that she’d entered the church with apprehension and a tinge of sorrow, Joanna Vaughn was the most elated of ladies now.
“You are happy, aren’t you, Edward?” The question burst out of her, determined to know for certain that it wasn’t just she who felt such unabashed bliss—and though something inside her shivered at the thought that he might not, she couldn’t stop herself from asking.
*
Never had Eddie heard his name said with such excitement and trepidation. Miss Crosby spoke as though expecting someone to burst in and take umbrage with that liberty—but then, she wasn’t Miss Crosby any longer. She was Joanna Vaughn. His wife. One of the few people in the world who had the right to use his given name whenever she wished.
That thought was enough to send Eddie’s thoughts into a dizzying spiral. No matter that he had witnessed the ceremony himself and had, indeed, spoken the words, the terms “husband” and “wife” felt like strange things, unconnected to him.
Yet they were married.
Once he moved beyond that initial shock, Eddie didn’t know which issue to address first: that she’d called him Edward, or the question itself. But he dismissed the first offhand. There was such trepidation in her voice that it was best not to press the issue. Better to allow her to call him whatever pleased her. Even if it was Edward. In time, Joanna would grow comfortable with his more appropriate moniker.
Quickly moving on to the grander issue, Eddie considered the question as a whole. Was he happy? What an odd and overwhelming thing to consider. What was “happy”? Was he pleased to be forced into a marriage not of his choosing? Certainly not.
Yet comparing the lady before him now with the agitated and cowering creature that had stepped into the nave just minutes ago, Eddie’s heart pained him anew. Though he understood the trepidation well, there was a desperation to Joanna’s kowtowing that made his skin itch and his muscles tense. Eddie didn’t know what had happened to fluster her so, and he’d nearly stopped the ceremony to address it, but all it had taken was one small smile from him to erase it all. Like the sun breaking through the clouds, her sorrow had faded, leaving her glowing.
As much as her hero worship unnerved him in so many ways, there was incredible power in knowing he could make her so content with something so little. To know that someone’s heart was so fully in his control was heady and terrifying at the same time.
So, was he happy?
This may not be the marriage he wanted, but being able to give Joanna such joy despite all the difficulties that had brought them to this moment was wonderful in its own right. No one else cared so greatly about his opinion, and with naught but a few words he had the power to make her spirits soar.
“Yes, I am happy,” he said, surprising himself.
Perhaps it was not “happy” in the manner Eddie had hoped for, but that didn’t negate the fact that he was content, and that sentiment grew as Joanna’s smile broadened further. Bright eyes sparkled at him, watching him with such expectation. Eddie didn’t know what it was she anticipated—though an epiphany came quickly on its heels.
They were alone. For the first time. With so much hubbub in the past few days, Eddie hadn’t had the opportunity to spend any time with his “sweetheart,” and now they were married. Irrevocably. And his wife was gazing at him with her heart in her eyes.
Eddie stood so close to Joanna that her skirts wrapped around his legs, and though they weren’t touching (beyond his holding her hand), it felt as though they were flush together. Pulse quickening, he tried to swallow, though his throat refused to cooperate. Despite having known that theirs would be a marriage in all aspects, hypotheticals were a far cry from reality.
They would be expected to kiss. And so much more. Unless he didn’t wish to have a proper marriage or a family of his own—neither of which were appealing in the least. So, there was no avoiding the fact that he was going to have to touch more than his bride’s hand.
Drawing near, Eddie tried to steady his heartbeat, but it was impossible to calm that or the itching along his skin. This was Joanna . But she was his wife . Until this week, Eddie had never thought to pair those words together, yet this was the situation in which they found themselves. And there was no point in delaying.
Though it would be preferable if his palms weren’t sweating so profusely.
Joanna mirrored him, leaning close, her eyes watching him carefully as anticipation and trepidation continued to play in those blue depths; the sharp scent of lemon and orange blossoms filled his nose, and though Eddie had never noticed her perfume previously, the bright citrus fragrance seemed utterly perfect for her. Stilling, she froze in place as his lips brushed hers—
The vestry door opened, and Joanna jerked away, drawing in her breath sharply as her cheeks went from pale to red between one heartbeat and the next.
Mr. Poole strode in with an arched brow. “I have your certificate, but I can return later if I am interrupting.”
Joanna gave a brittle laugh. “Oh, no—”
“Yes, you are,” said Eddie.
Lips pursing, though the vicar’s eyes gleamed with a silent laugh, Mr. Poole nodded and turned on his heel, the door closing on him as he announced to the awaiting people, “They require a moment.”
Joanna’s hands shot to her cheeks, her muscles tightening as laughter echoed through the wood, but Eddie ignored them; when one married, one expected more than a few innuendos and jests about private matters that would otherwise be impolite to address. Turning to his bride, Eddie caught her as she tried to step around him to escape the vestry.
“Let it be, and allow ourselves a moment before we face the horde,” he said, and when she sent him an exasperated look, he added, “We will be the subject of teasing whether we leave now or later, and I want to kiss my wife.”
That he managed to say the words without stumbling was a bit of a miracle, for though they were entirely correct, Eddie still could not believe them to be true. Neither the desire nor the fact that he had a wife.
Settling his hands on her waist, Eddie drew her closer, and Joanna’s breath caught in her lungs as her hands hovered above his lapels, nearly resting on his chest but drawing back before she dared to do so. Her muscles were taut beneath his hands, straining as he leaned into her. Even without those little signs of nerves, Eddie felt them radiating off her, which would’ve given him pause if her gaze wasn’t begging him to continue.
His eyes slid closed, and he pressed his lips to hers, but the lady remained as stiff and still as a statue. No doubt if he were to look, he would find Joanna staring at him, and the image almost made him chuckle. Drawing his arms more fully around her, he caressed her back, urging her to relax. Her hands finally rested upon his chest, though only for a minute before she inched them up around his neck as she accepted the kiss.
Each movement was timid and uncertain. Eddie doubted she had any experience with embraces, and he forced himself to move at her tempo, allowing her to ease into the new sensation. With a sigh, Joanna gave him her weight, muscles slackening as she relaxed in his hold, and though her touches remained tentative, Eddie felt the shift within her as she embraced the moment, her movements growing bolder with each heartbeat.
His focus fractured as her fingers brushed along the edge of his collar, tangling with the curls at his neck. A shiver ran down his spine, dragging him into the sensation; pulse pounding, his skin felt every brush of her hands, and he reveled in the softness and sweetness of her lips. The sensations sank deep into his bones, drawing forth a heat that swept through him as he lost himself in Joanna’s touch.