Chapter Thirty-Nine
LYDIA’S LATE-SEPTEMBER WEDDING TURNED OUT beautiful, but it was big and exhausting.
The happy bride and groom were probably on their train to Chicago by now.
Lydia was sneakily planning on some research for a story during their honeymoon trip, but Nora doubted much would get done or that Abraham was truly naive about her plans.
Nora rested her head on Ezekiel’s shoulder as they sat on one of the benches outside Bellevue House overlooking Cincinnati and the Ohio River beyond.
Sunset painted the tree-framed sky in bright swaths of color.
The leaves had yet to turn, but the view was still picturesque and worthy of basking in.
After spending all day preparing a rented portion of the building for the wedding and then hours cleaning up afterward, she welcomed the respite in the somewhat secluded portion of the grounds.
She pretended not to notice Ezekiel systematically pulling out her hair pins and dropping them behind her into Tristan’s confiscated basket.
The release of tension felt so good. She’d have to be careful about removing the pins from the basket later.
Tristan wouldn’t appreciate getting poked the next time he traveled to the Davis household.
With the removal of the last pin, the rest of her hair fell scandalously loose. Well, if she were going to be scandalous, she might as well prop her aching feet on the other wedding-supplies basket. “I think when we get married, I’d prefer something small and quiet.”
“Small and quiet means it can happen more quickly, right?”
She tilted her head to better see his face from her periphery. “Yes. Why? Do you have a date in mind?”
It was the first hint of a forthcoming marriage proposal since he’d accepted a new stage manager position at the Grand Opera House a few weeks ago.
Thanks to Ezekiel’s months of rebuilding credibility and the public trial of Mrs. Reed and Mr. Adler resulting in jail sentences, the Grand’s manager had granted Ezekiel an interview, listened with a sympathetic ear, and even offered to premiere Uncle Graham’s operetta in the spring with Nora as Princess Seraphina.
Nora wasn’t certain how he’d accomplished that last bit, but Ezekiel was determined she’d have her chance on the stage.
Mum’s help caring for Mrs. Beaumont freed Nora to step out of the shadows and see if an operatic career was something she wanted.
Although the idea of a traveling life was losing its allure in light of making a home and family with this man.
“I was thinking November thirtieth.”
She sat up and faced him. Two months was more than ample to pull a simple wedding together, but the date was awfully specific. “I’m not opposed, but why that date?”
“Matthew 11:30. I know it’s not a typical verse for weddings, but we’ve already accepted the yoke of Christ. What better day is there for becoming yoked together before God, our family, and our friends?”
Oh, how she loved this man. “I think it’s a splendid idea. There’s only one problem.”
“Oh?”
“You haven’t proposed, and I can’t marry a man I’m not engaged to.”
“Ah. Yes. Well, I had planned this all better in my head, but then you brought it up—”
“Ezekiel, just ask.”
He chuckled as he patted his pockets. Panic crossed his face, followed by more frantic patting.
After a relieved breath, he removed a ring box that had seen better days, but forgot to open it before asking the question she’d waited months to hear.
“Eleonora Brisbane Davis, would you join me under the yoke of marriage and become my wife?”
“Yes. Finally,” she teased.
She took the box from him, but he placed a hand over hers before she could open it.
“I know it’s nothing fancy, but it is special. It was Ma’s from Pa. She asked if I thought you’d mind. I didn’t think you would, but if you want some—”
“Stop. It will be perfect, and I’m honored to wear it.” She opened the box to find a thin silver band with an oval purple amethyst at its center.
“A jeweler said we can—”
“Ezekiel?”
“Yes?”
“Hush, and put this on me.”
His grin reappeared, and he removed the ring before setting aside the box. He wiggled the ring down her finger until it sat snugly at the base, then kissed her hand.
After pulling her closer, he encircled her waist. “I love you, Nora soon-to-be Beaumont, and I’ll never have enough words to tell you just how much.”
She threw her arms around his neck and met his gaze. “I love you too, but you don’t need words. I rather like it when you use silence to communicate your love.”
“Silence?” His brows bunched until she flicked her gaze to his lips. “Ah, but that’s not silence, my love, that is the song of my heart.”
“Then shall we sing a duet?”
He chuckled, then claimed her lips.
Their hearts sang and their lips danced to a melody only they could hear.
How had she ever allowed fear to force her heart to sing only in the shadows?
Ezekiel had been right. Fear lost its power when one became brave enough to share the yoke of their burden with someone who cared.
No longer would Nora sing alone from the shadows, but forevermore, she would sing in the light of the One who freed her, with the man who’d persisted until she was brave enough to do so.