Chapter Seven #2
“What are you thinking now?” He went to the sideboard to pour amber liquid into a glass that he handed to her.
Even though it was early in the day, her nerves needed the fortification the liquor could provide, so she took a healthy sip of the whiskey. “I’m thinking about your mother.”
His brows furrowed adorably. “What about her?”
“She’ll be furious when she discovers that you married the housekeeper.”
“That’ll be her problem, not ours.”
She gave him a withering look. “Do you honestly believe that?”
“I do believe it. I care not what she or anyone else thinks of my choice of a bride.”
“Not even your friends the duke and duchess?”
“Especially not them. They aren’t the kind of people who judge someone unkindly simply because they’re different or foreign. They will care for you because I care for you.”
“You make it sound so simple when we both know it’ll be anything but.”
Aubrey took the glass from her and put it on a side table. He grasped the hands she had clenched tightly together, pried them apart and brought them to his waist while he placed his hands on her shoulders. “I’m more than up for the challenge. Are you?”
Her backbone stiffened. “I’ve never met a challenge anything less than head on.”
He unleashed that potent smile. “There she is, my fierce Irish warrior. You should know that the norms of society mean nothing to me. I haven’t the first concern about what anyone says about me or thinks of me, and you shouldn’t either.
I’m marrying the only woman who has captured my attention since I lost Annabelle ten long years ago.
That should count for something with my family. ”
She feared he was being overly optimistic but refrained from saying so.
They would find out soon enough. Glancing down at the drab, olive-colored dress she had donned for what she’d thought would be another long workday, Maeve had a thought.
“Would you mind terribly if I went upstairs to change? I have a dress that my benefactor in New York gave me that would be more suitable for . . . To be married in.” She tried not to stumble over the words, so he wouldn’t know how terribly nervous she was about exchanging vows with him.
Despite his sincere assurances, she still had her doubts that this was a good idea.
“Of course. Do you require assistance?”
“I don’t think so.”
“I’ll wait for you right here.”
“I’ll hurry.” Maeve rushed from the room and went up the main staircase, which was quicker than using the staff stairwell.
Out of breath after climbing the two flights of stairs, she reached the third floor just as Mrs. Allston appeared on the far end of the hallway.
“Is it true? You’re to marry Mr. Nelson? ”
The cook’s scandalized expression only confirmed Maeve’s greatest fears. No one would understand or accept this union. And why should they? Mr. Nelson could have any woman he wanted. Forcing herself to remember why she had accepted his proposal, she gave a tight nod.
“It’s true.”
“Are you with child?”
“No! Of course not.”
“Then why?”
“He . . . I . . . He’s helping me.”
“With what?”
“I’m in a spot of trouble, and he’s offering his protection.”
“What sort of trouble?”
“I would prefer not to say.” She glanced at the cook, who had been so nice to her from the beginning. Would that change now? “Could I ask a favor?”
“You may ask.”
“I came up to change into a more appropriate dress but could use help with the buttons. Would you be willing to assist me?”
After a long pause, the cook made a sound that somehow managed to convey her reluctant willingness to help. She followed Maeve into the bedroom where she quickly removed her work dress, her face flaming with shame over the dingy state of her undergarments.
“Wherever did you acquire such a fine gown?” Mrs. Allston asked when she saw the pale blue confection that Maeve withdrew from the wardrobe.
“A friend gave it to me because it no longer fit her after having children.”
“It’s quite lovely.”
“Thank you.” Maeve moved quickly to don a corset that Mrs. Allston tied for her, and then the gown, hoping it still fit her.
The first time she’d tried it on had been after being so dreadfully ill from the ocean crossing.
It had been big on her then, but perhaps after a few weeks of regular meals, it would fit better.
She could only hope, because she didn’t have anything else to wear to be married.
Married.
To Mr. Nelson. Aubrey.
A flutter of excitement and anticipation had her covering her abdomen with her hand as Mrs. Allston tended to the buttons down her back. When she was finished, Maeve put on the jacket that matched the skirt. “Does it look all right?”
“You look lovely.”
“I do? Really?” She wanted to be lovely for him, for the lovely man who was risking so much to offer her protection. She wanted him to be proud of the woman he was marrying, regardless of the circumstances that had brought them to this moment.
“You do. But if I may say one thing . . .”
“Of course.”
“People aren’t going to understand this marriage, Miss Brown. They’ll be swift in their condemnation of you and of Mr. Nelson.”
“I tried to tell him that, but he said he didn’t care what people say.”
“Everyone cares what others think of them. When I married my Mr. Allston, his mother didn’t approve because she had someone else picked out for him. She made our lives quite difficult for many years.”
Maeve hung on to her every word. “How did you get through it?”
“By focusing on each other and the reason we wanted to be married in the first place. If you do that, if you focus on what brought you together and not on what could tear you apart, you’ll find a way through the storm.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Allston. I truly appreciate your advice.”
“I have seen the way Mr. Nelson looks at you when he thinks no one is watching. I believe he truly cares for you.”
“Yes, I think he does.”
“That makes you a very lucky young lady.”
“I’ve never been particularly lucky before.”
“I think your luck may be about to change, my dear.”
After a knock on the door, Mrs. Allston opened it to Mr. Plumber.
His eyes widened when he saw Maeve wearing the beautiful dress.
Mrs. Allston cleared her throat. “Mr. Plumber? Did you want something?”
“Mr. Nelson asked me to inform Miss Brown that the justice of the peace has arrived.”
“Thank you.” Maeve reached for the straw hat that matched her dress and placed it on her head, using the small mirror over the dresser to adjust it.
She took comfort in knowing that while she had absolutely no business marrying a man of Mr. Nelson’s ilk, at least she would look like a woman who deserved him, for a brief time anyway.
Before she left the room, she glanced at the photo of her family on the dresser and wished with all her heart they could be with her on this auspicious occasion, that she could ask their opinions of the man she was to marry, that they could stand by her side when she took this momentous step.
“Miss Brown? Are you ready?”
Mrs. Allston’s query interrupted Maeve’s thoughts before they could turn maudlin.
“I’m ready.” As ready as she would ever be.
She followed Mr. Plumber and Mrs. Allston down the main stairs to find Mr. Nelson waiting for her at the bottom. A man with thick white hair and white muttonchops stood next to him.
Mr. Nelson stared at her for an uncomfortably long moment. He stepped forward, took her hand and helped her down the last of the stairs. “You are exquisite.”
“Thank you.” His reaction made her breathless.
He continued to stare at her as if they were the only people in the room.
“I take it this is the bride,” the other man said.
“Yes, this is my bride. Maeve, this is Mr. Taylor, the justice of the peace.”
“Pleased to meet you, sir.”
“Likewise.” If Mr. Taylor was shocked to hear an Irish accent coming from Mr. Nelson’s bride, he did an admirable job of hiding it as he looked to the groom for guidance. “Where would you like to hold the ceremony?”
“In the library.” Mr. Nelson tucked her hand into the crook of his arm and led her into the room that was one of her favorites in the grand house. “I trust this will suffice?”
“Yes,” she said.
“You’re trembling,” he said softly so he couldn’t be overheard.
“I’m nervous.”
“Please don’t be.”
“You’re not at all nervous?”
“Not one bit.”
“How can that be?”
He shrugged. “If I were marrying anyone but you, I’d be in a panic. But because it’s you, I’m calm and collected.”
“I’m glad one of us is calm.” She placed her hand over her upset stomach. “I’m afraid I may cast up my breakfast.”
He put his arms around her and brought her into his embrace, not seeming to care that there were three other people watching them. “Everything will be fine. Leave it to me to take care of you.”
Maeve felt both relieved and conflicted by his assurances.
While it was a great relief to know she would have his help and protection, she’d been determined to take care of herself after fleeing her abusive marriage.
Only knowing her former husband’s family had managed to track her to Newport so quickly had her accepting Mr. Nelson’s offer of help.
Well, that and the attraction that had simmered between them from the first time they met.
Would theirs be a marriage in name only or would he want to explore that simmering attraction in the privacy of their bedroom?
They hadn’t discussed that when they made their plans, so she had no way to know what he expected.
“Shall we go ahead and take care of the formalities?” he asked in a casual tone, as if those “formalities” wouldn’t change both their lives forever.
If it didn’t work out, she could obtain a divorce. Newport had become the place to go for society people looking to get out of marriages as Rhode Island had some of the country’s least stringent laws regarding the dissolution of marriage.
“Yes, we shall,” she said in response to his question as she swallowed hard, hoping she would not embarrass them both by losing her gorge during the ceremony.
Standing in front of the fireplace, she faced Mr. Nelson, forcing herself to really look at the man she was about to marry.
He looked back at her with affection and perhaps satisfaction.
He’d made it clear that he fancied her, so of course he was satisfied to be getting what he wanted.
Although it would be unfair to accuse him of having nefarious ulterior motives.
He’d offered help and protection that she desperately needed.
If he got something he wanted, too, well that was only fair.
Possibly sensing the bride’s disquiet, Mr. Taylor moved through the recitation of vows with all due haste, forgoing fancy or flowery words about marriage. For that, Maeve would always be thankful.
When Mr. Nelson slid a plain gold band on her finger, Maeve looked up at him, startled.
“It was my grandmother’s. She told me to give it to the woman I married. I believe she would be pleased with my choice.”
Maeve didn’t believe that for a minute, but she wasn’t about to argue the point. She had never met his grandmother, so who was she to say what the woman would’ve wanted for him?
“By the power vested in me by the state of Rhode Island and Providence Plantations, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Mr. Nelson, you may kiss your bride.”
That detail hadn’t been part of her first wedding, so Maeve found herself unprepared to kiss the man who was now her husband with three sets of curious eyes looking on.
Her husband, on the other hand, had no such concerns. He raised his hands to her face and placed a gentle, tender kiss on her lips and then flashed a huge, satisfied grin.
A trickle of unease traversed down her backbone as she wondered if this was the moment when he would reveal his true nature. She braced herself for blows that didn’t materialize and then immediately felt guilty for anticipating such treatment from a man who had been nothing but kind to her.
Seeming puzzled by her tense posture, he extended his arm to her.
She tucked her hand into his elbow and allowed him to escort her toward the doorway, where Mr. Plumber and Mrs. Allston stood guard over her ragtags, who had gathered in the hallway to greet the newly married couple.
Denny, Padraic, Heine, Kaiser, Wiggie and Timmy, each of them smiling while seeming dumbfounded by the turn of events. Between the six of them, they could put together a full set of teeth, but their lack of teeth didn’t stop them from cheering and clapping wildly.
A flush of embarrassment overtook Maeve’s face when she imagined what they must be thinking. Yesterday she’d been the housekeeper. Today she was married to the son of the people who owned the house. As soon as the men went home for the night, she and Mr. Nelson would be the talk of Newport.
That thought turned her stomach. “Polite” society was anything but when one of their own stepped out of line.
By marrying the Irish housekeeper, Mr. Nelson was so far out of line, he could never return to the status he’d enjoyed only that morning, before he bound himself to her and sealed both their fates.