Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
Maeve’s dress was nearly blinding in the sunlight.
Pure white chiffon, it had a scooped neckline with an embellished bodice and long sheer sleeves scattered with embroidered flowers.
The bottom of the dress picked up the floral theme as well as the edging on her veil.
A short train flowed behind her as she slowly walked down the aisle on her father’s arm.
The dress set him back a fair amount and she felt slightly guilty for that until she heard the oohs and ahs of the assembled parishioners. The underskirt of the dress was form fitting, showing her new svelte figure with each step she took.
She carried white roses, and there were tiny rosebuds nestled in her upswept auburn locks. Everything about her fairly screamed virginal and she smiled a smug little smile until she noticed Sean’s expression as he waited for her. It was a visual scold. She lowered her eyes.
Halfway down the aisle, panic set in. Was she doing the right thing? Did she love him enough to marry him? Her vows would make their marriage permanent in the eyes of God.
How well did she really know him? He’d been away for a good part of the last few years and away still more during most of their engagement.
He had sort of railroaded and bullied her into marrying him.
Was it smart to marry a man who felt it was his obligation, in fact, his right to discipline his wife?
Would she like living in the States? Was she marrying him to get there?
Maeve began to tremble. She was assailed by doubts.
Sean wanted children, lots of them. Did she want a houseful? She liked them well enough, but would she be a good mother? Oh Lord, what had she gotten herself into this time?
Her feet slowed. She tugged on her father’s arm.
* * *
Sean heard the slight gasp from the onlookers. He so wanted to stick a finger inside his collar and loosen it. His palms began to sweat.
“You better do somethin’, brother,” John hissed from behind him. “Looks like your bird is about to fly the coop.”
Maeve was barely inching down the last fifteen feet of the aisle. Her head was down and her father shrugged and tugged on his tie as he looked at Sean in confusion.
Sean noted the self-righteous expression on his mother’s face and frowned.
It was at that moment Maeve raised her head and looked at him.
He knew instantly it had been a mistake.
Maeve had seen him glancing at his ma, seen the satisfied, I told you so, expression on her face.
He watched Maeve, his heart in his throat.
The organist stumbled over the keys, hitting a jarring note before recovering.
Sean and Maeve grimaced at the same time.
Standing straight and tall, Sean spoke, holding out his hand in her direction.
“Please come and marry me, Maeve Donahue. I love you with all my heart, and to tell you the truth, I always have. I don’t think I can live without you,” he stated loud enough for all to hear.
Her steps faltered once again as she stared at him in surprise. He held his breath.
* * *
Maeve was stunned. This man, strong, proud and opinionated had just turned their marriage ceremony into something more profound.
He’d bared his soul in front of everyone they knew.
She heard the envious sighs as though from a distance.
Her heart pounded as she imagined running from the church and never again seeing him as he was now, waiting, his hand outstretched, seeking hers.
It was not something she could bear to imagine.
Her eyes lifted to his and everything became crystal clear. He was the one. The only. The one man she was destined for. No matter where life took them, she belonged by his side.
A spiteful little voice whispered, “Yes and possibly over his knee,” and she found herself grinning. Yes, possibly, but not if she could avoid it.
She walked the rest of the way down the aisle, her heart settled, her mind at ease. This was right. She felt it in her soul and clasped his hand tightly when she reached him, nearly forgetting her father who heaved a hefty sigh behind her and stepped back.
Sean’s hand swallowed hers, holding tightly as though he were afraid she would bolt and run at the last minute. Maeve looked up at him and winked. She felt the tension leave his body as he lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed it.
“Late, as usual,” Father Fitzpatrick quipped, smiling at her.
“Aye, Father, but here as usual as well,” she replied a bit cheekily.
The congregation tittered.
The ceremony began.
As Sean had surprised her with his poignant comments which lifted her heart, Maeve also had something to say. Turning to him she began:
“By the power that Christ brought from heaven, mayst thou love me. As the sun follows its course, mayst thou follow me. As light to the eye, as bread to the hungry, as joy to the heart, may thy presence be with me, oh one whom I love, till death comes to part us asunder.”
Sean regarded her with pride in his eyes and lifted her delicate hand to his lips. Maeve smiled.
* * *
“What frightened you?” Sean asked gently as they moved around a part of the floor that had been cleared for dancing.
“I’m not sure. I suddenly doubted the wisdom of marryin’ you,” Maeve replied honestly as she looked up into his eyes.
“I see.”
“Do you?” Sean nodded.
“Have I hurt you?” she asked. “Your feelin’s, or perhaps your pride?” He smiled and brought his fingers up to brush the soft skin on her cheek.
“I’ll admit I had a moment,” he breathed against her hair, “but I know you, darlin’. I know how your mind works.”
“Oh you think so, do you?” she replied with a grin.
“Aye, better than you imagine. I know you’re stubborn and prideful. I know you’re smart with a wickedly sharp tongue on occasion. You’re sassy and outspoken, opinionated and bossy, impulsive and—”
“Do go on listin’ my charms, O’Malley,” she drawled sarcastically. “’Tis a wonder you wanted to marry me at all.”
“Let me finish,” he ordered, smiling when she clamped her lips together.
“You’re also tender-hearted, kind to those who need it and worried about missin’ your ma and da and whether they will be all right once we’ve gone.”
Maeve looked away.
“You’re curious and slightly eager about the marriage bed, but frightened as well. ’Tis natural, darlin’, but I’ll soon set all your fears to rest,” he whispered in her ear.
“If you think I’m frightened of you, Sean O’Malley,” she hissed, “you have another think comin’.”
Sean laughed and ignored her as he continued.
“I know you’re thinkin’ you’ll be able to get your way around me when you misbehave, in fact, you’re countin’ on it.
I’ll try not to let that happen. A man should be consistent, but you are so very lovely,” he sighed.
“I’ll do my best to be the man you need, strong, protective and tolerant to a point, but, my little Irish whirlwind, I’ll always take you to task when you don’t mind me. ”
Maeve snorted indelicately and he chuckled.
“We’ll make a good life together, darlin’,” he promised. “A happy life. You’ll come to know how far you can push me, and I’ll learn when to draw in the reins and when to let you take the bit between your teeth and run.”
“O’Malley, you make me sound like a piece of horseflesh,” she said in outrage.
“Oh no, not horseflesh,” he replied with a grimace. “Your flesh is soft and fragrant. I’m longin’ to stroke and caress it in the most intimate ways,” he informed her. “I’ll also redden it when necessary, but you’re not to worry about that.”
“Aye, of course not,” she cooed back. “That’s just one of the many ways in which you’ll care for me.”
“Exactly, darlin’,” he replied.
“Horseshit!” she said, smiling as the song ended and she made to move away from him. Sean reeled her back into his arms and kissed her to the delight of the guests.
“’Tis time to cut the cake, Maeve,” her mother said, coming up beside her. “Then you’ll have to change or you’ll miss your plane. John has to make his toast as well.”
Sean placed his big hand over Maeve’s and they cut into the cake. One of the ladies of the Alter Guild began slicing small pieces and others passed them out. The champagne was opened, glasses passed round and John rose.
“If you lie, may you lie only to keep a friend, If you cheat, may you cheat only death, If you steal, may you steal your lover's heart, If you drink, may you drink deeply of the joy of your new life together,” he began offering a classic Irish toast. Everyone raised their glasses, but before they drank, he continued with a wink and a grin.
“And may all your ups and downs be under the sheets.
“Sláinte,” he said raising his glass in the direction of Sean and Maeve and ignoring his mother’s gasp of indignation.
For a moment there was dead silence in the hall. Then Father Fitzpatrick chuckled and a collective sigh moved round the room. Soon the glasses were drained and conversations began again.
“Lord, I can’t believe I won’t be seein’ you for who knows how long,” Margaret said, her eyes tearing up.
“Now Ma, there’s no reason you and Da can’t come to America and visit us,” Maeve soothed, placing an arm around her mother’s shoulders and leading her away. “John and Bridy are comin’ as soon as he graduates from university. Maybe you can come over at the same time…”
* * *
It seemed all too soon they were running to the car as they were showered with rice.
Sean held his hand over her head when someone tossed an old shoe.
Teary good-byes were said and arrangements were made to pick up Sean’s car at the airport.
He’d given it to his brother and John would fetch it the following day.
In an uncharacteristically generous gesture, Sean’s parents paid for two nights in a Paris hotel. From France, they would fly to the States.
Sean held Maeve’s hand as their plane left the runway. “I like your suit,” he said, trying to distract her.