Chapter Twenty-One
The morning of their wedding dawned long before Selena was ready.
She had not slept a wink after Edward disappeared out her window.
And judging from the strange quiet that permeated the house (aside from an occasional crash, raised voice, or muffled curse that echoed through the halls), she was not the only one whose nerves were on edge this morning.
In fact, it seemed as though everyone, from Jane to her parents to the servants, were poised as though they would be plunged from a cliff at any moment.
“I’m so sorry, ma’am,” Morris, Jane’s abigail, said for the third time after snagging an errant curl in the brush.
Selena forced a smile and tried to keep still as the maid continued to style her hair. It was hardly the poor woman’s fault that everyone was so tense. Selena took a deep breath and let it out slowly, making a visible effort to relax. Worrying herself sick would not help anyone.
“It is all right, Morris. My hair does tend to tangle.”
The maid gave her a grateful smile and finished sweeping Selena’s hair into an elegant, braided bun, leaving soft ringlets around her face. Then she placed tiny sprays of flowers and small pearl pins throughout her hair, the white blossoms and gems nestled like delicate stars in a midnight sky.
When she had finished, Selena stood and looked herself over.
She didn’t know how the modiste had accomplished it, but she had somehow fashioned a beautiful ivory gown embellished with embroidered rosettes and a fine lace overlay in mere days.
Whatever her mother had paid for the gown, the woman deserved twice the amount.
It was truly the most beautiful wedding gown Selena had ever worn.
And she was certainly the expert on the matter.
A nervous laugh escaped her lips and Selena clapped them shut, hoping no one else had heard the sound.
If they had, they ignored it. Everyone seemed to be doing their best to ignore the fact that the bride looked as though she was ready to bolt at the slightest provocation.
Her nerves were strung so tightly they could be plucked like a harp.
It wasn’t as though she weren’t happy about her upcoming nuptials.
If she let herself imagine life as Edward’s wife, she became near giddy in her happiness. Distressingly so.
Because she just couldn’t make herself believe that they would actually happen.
Even if Edward were actually in that chapel waiting for her (and she had very serious doubts he would be) she just couldn’t let herself hope that their story would end happily.
The pain if he were not there would be unbearable.
Yet the pain if he were and something were to happen to him—as all her experience promised it would—was frankly unimaginable. Unsurvivable.
She wanted so much to believe everything would be well. He would be there, waiting for her with a smile upon his face. They would wed. And neither horse nor bird nor ill-advised drunken altercations would separate them.
Their wedding night was a separate matter entirely. Though at least with that, he had proven he had the constitution to survive her affections. Of course, they had not been wed at the time so if the curse was matrimony specific, he could still be in danger.
“You are thinking so hard your brow will be permanently creased,” Jane said softly, her smile so full of sympathy Selena nearly sobbed.
She looked around, noticing for the first time that she and Jane were alone.
“I sent everyone to the carriages. We have a few moments to ourselves. I thought you could use a brief respite.”
Selena squeezed Jane’s hand. “I do not deserve such a dear friend.”
Jane pulled her into a rib-cracking hug. “Yes, you do. You deserve so much more. And that man you are marrying had better realize it.”
Selena laughed, though there was little mirth in the sound. “If he is wise, he will have immediately quit town after you so unceremoniously tossed him from my window last night.”
Jane laughed heartily. “He was perfectly fine. Agile as a cat, that one.”
Selena couldn’t help but smile at that.
“You fear needlessly,” Jane said. “He will be there, waiting for you.”
Selena took a slow deep breath. “I hope you are right. While I think my heart would shatter completely if he were to abandon me, I really wouldn’t blame him. In fact, I would commend him for being intelligent enough to save his own skin.”
“Oh.” Jane waved that away. “You worry for naught. This time is different. He is different. I can feel it.”
“I hope so,” she said again. “But if he does change his mind, as much as it will destroy me, it is a much better option than him dying.”
Which would surely happen if they actually went through with the marriage.
Jane gave her a stern look. “No one will be dying today. Or tomorrow,” she added with a guilty afterthought.
“However, you will never know for sure if you will be standing in that church alone if you never arrive. I fear we have used up our reprieve and must now make haste if we are to arrive in time ourselves.”
Selena let out a sharp laugh. “You are right. Very well,” she said with a sigh. “Let us depart.”
“Before we go—” Jane turned to the maid who had just entered carrying a beautiful bouquet of flowers. She took them with a grateful smile and turned back to Selena.
“I know it isn’t strictly necessary to carry flowers, but I thought it couldn’t hurt.”
Selena took the bouquet, blinking back the tears that rose to cloud her vision.
“Lavender, peonies…” She sucked in a tremulous breath.
“Daffodils.” She looked at her friend with emotion clogging her throat.
“All flowers that denote luck.” Especially the daffodils, a particular sign of good fortune and hope in Wales.
Fortuitous indeed that Jane had found any this late in the season.
Selena was happy to have a bit of her homeland represented.
Jane nodded, her own eyes suspiciously misty. “Also rosemary for loyalty, basil for lasting love, sage for long life.” Jane reached out to adjust the embroidered capped sleeve of Selena’s gown, before stepping back to look at Selena with so much love and pride that Selena nearly sobbed.
“I am certain Fate is smiling down on you and your groom today,” Jane said. “But I thought a little extra help wouldn’t come amiss.”
Selena raised a brow at the other herbs in the bouquet. “Dill and mint?”
Both herbs that symbolized sensuality, even lust, as well as protection. Jane laughed and shrugged with one shoulder. “Just a bit of fun. And it needed more greenery.”
Selena laughed and held the bouquet tight to her bosom. “Thank you,” she said, her throat tight again. “They are beautiful.”
“Not nearly as beautiful as the bride,” Jane said, taking her hand with a quick squeeze. “Now. Let’s get you to the church.”
Selena took a deep breath and nodded. They hurried down the stairs and bustled into the carriage where her parents waited impatiently. Her mother looked her over with an approving and proud smile. Then her forehead creased slightly.
“I do wish you hadn’t felt the need to tell him everything,” her mother finally mumbled.
She had let her parents know about their conversation. Though she had kept the details of when and where it had occurred to herself. They had a right to know that yet another marriage attempt might prove futile. If she knew her father, he was already planning their next trip abroad. Just in case.
“I know, Mother. But he had a right to know. I could not have wed him without telling him everything. If he is not there…” She shrugged and tried to pretend her heart wasn’t rending in two. “If our positions were reversed, I likely wouldn’t be.”
“I don’t believe that for a second,” Jane whispered to her.
Her mother grunted. “Neither do I.” She sighed and settled back against the cushions.
“Well, no matter the outcome of this morning, we will be by your side,” she said, giving Selena a reassuring smile before turning her gaze out the window and muttering, “Out of sheer morbid curiosity if nothing else.”
Selena laughed her first genuine laugh of the morning, and the mirthful moment lasted right up until the others hurried inside, and she was left standing outside the church door with her father.
“Are you ready?” he asked, giving her hand a squeeze where it lay against his arm.
Was she ready to find out if her future waited for her behind that door, or yet another humiliating, soul-shredding reiteration of her past? No. She wasn’t. Not even a little.
But it was too late to turn back now.
*
“Stop fidgeting,” Anthony commanded, swatting at Edward’s hands where he had been tugging at his cravat.
Edward scowled but made a concerted effort to drop his hands and keep them away from his neck.
He was not normally so restless. Then again, he was not normally on the precipice of a monumental, life-changing decision either.
That the decision was not entirely in his hands certainly did nothing to soothe his nerves.
“Look again,” he ordered, jerking his head toward the door that closed the clergyman’s office off from the rest of the sanctuary.
He wished he had obtained a special license instead of merely the common license so that they could have married in his parlor instead of their parish church of St. George’s.
Fashionable though it may be, it was far too large and too public for the disaster that could be awaiting him.
“Calm yourself,” Anthony chastised again before poking his head out the door. “There. You see. Her mother and Mr. and Mrs. Haddon are seating themselves now.”
Edward raised an eyebrow. “But you do not see the lady herself?”
“No, but—”
Edward threw his hands up and paced away only to turn back at Anthony’s groan.
“What?”
Anthony just shook his head with a chuckle. “I thought the bride was supposed to be the one worrying a path into the floor, not the groom.”