Chapter 8
The small chapel was adorned with white roses. The intimate congregation of Tristan and Helena's family sat waiting in anticipation for the organist to begin, for the doors to open, and for Helena to walk down the aisle.
Tristan glanced to his left, where Nathaniel stood grinning back at him, his dimples on full display, lending his usual handsome features a hint of boyish mischief.
Tristan could not suppress a chuckle. Nathaniel looked remarkably well in his navy blue coat and white cravat against an ivory embroidered waistcoat.
Turning his attention once more to the chapel doors, Tristan reflected upon all that had been accomplished in the past two and a half weeks. The morning after Helena accepted his proposal, he and Sir Benedict had each instructed their solicitors to begin drafting the marriage settlements.
At the same time, Tristan had directed his own solicitor to obtain a special license.
Both he and Sir Benedict had agreed there was little wisdom in waiting for the banns to be published.
A marriage delayed until the end of May would only prolong the gossip surrounding Lord Ravenscroft's malicious rumors, whereas a prompt, respectable wedding would put much of the speculation to rest.
By the end of the first week, the settlements had been agreed and signed without difficulty.
Early the following week the special license arrived, and their engagement was announced in the newspapers.
From that moment, the days had been consumed by preparations for the wedding, morning calls upon friends and acquaintances, and public appearances with Helena, all carefully managed to present a united front before society.
With that accomplished at last, the day had arrived.
Within the hour Helena would be his wife, the malicious whispers would lose much of their power, and he could at last begin fulfilling the promise he had made to protect her, while turning his attention once more to ensuring Georgiana's first Season was everything it ought to be.
The organist began to play, and the doors opened. Tristan's thoughts of Georgiana and the arrangements for the wedding breakfast fell away as his eyes found Helena.
"Breathe..." Nathaniel whispered as she walked toward the altar.
Tristan raised his eyebrows before drawing in a slow breath, only then realizing, with an absent thought of amusement, that he had forgotten to do so.
Helena crossed the short aisle upon her father's arm with the same composed assurance she brought to every public occasion.
The wisely chosen gown, the delicate flowers woven through her hair, and the elegance with which she carried herself combined made her more beautiful than Tristan had ever seen her.
Family and friends watched in respectful silence as she approached, her attention fixed upon the clergyman waiting before the altar.
After kissing her father upon the cheek, Helena took her place opposite Tristan while Charlotte slipped quietly into her seat behind her. Tristan searched Helena's calm expression, wondering whether she harbored any second thoughts, but the concern soon gave way to admiration.
Her simple ivory gown fit her perfectly, while her dark chestnut hair, usually pinned in an unassuming style, had been arranged more elegantly, its thick curls entwined with delicate rosebuds.
A few soft curls framed her face, and her light gray eyes met his with interest. He realized he had been staring, utterly captivated by the woman who, within the next few minutes, would become his wife.
Turning his attention to the clergyman, Tristan urged his mind to focus upon the ceremony, but found himself, more than once, drawn back to Helena as she listened attentively to the service.
Before long, having barely heard a word the clergyman had spoken, he repeated the vows as they were given to him and then watched Helena as she spoke hers in return.
He wondered what had become of him. He had expected the ceremony to be little more than the final legal formality in their arrangement, yet he found himself wholly absorbed by the childhood friend who accepted his name as her own without the slightest hesitation, her clear voice carrying each solemn promise with conviction.
This is a marriage of convenience, Tristan reminded himself as he offered Helena his arm and led her down the steps from the altar toward the intimate gathering of family waiting to offer their congratulations. An arrangement. A practical agreement entered into for the benefit of both of us.
After the formalities of the wedding breakfast, once everyone had settled into easy conversation, Tristan took a seat beside Sir Benedict and Lady Fairchild.
"I wish your parents were here, my boy," Sir Benedict remarked. "I truly believe they would have been delighted for both you and Helena."
"Your mother and I often wondered whether anything more might come of your childhood friendship," Lady Fairchild added with a smile. "But we agreed it was not our place to meddle."
Tristan laughed. "I had no notion such conversations had taken place, though I suppose many parents would have hoped for the match."
"Indeed," Sir Benedict replied. "Your parents chose one another from affection, as did my wife and I.
We had always hoped Helena might one day be equally fortunate.
" He held Tristan's gaze for a moment. "I do not doubt your honor for a single moment, Tristan.
It is only difficult for a father not to wish his daughter every happiness. "
"As a boy, I imagined I should marry for affection myself," Tristan admitted. "After Eton and Oxford, however, it became apparent that many marriages among our circle were contracted for advantage rather than affection. When my father first raised the prospect of my marrying Elinor..."
"He approached you?" Sir Benedict asked with interest.
"He did. He and Elinor's father were close acquaintances, and they had spoken of what sort of husband might best suit her.
Her father worried she would find society burdensome.
She never cared for crowded drawing rooms and much preferred books, music, the country, and a small circle of close friends. "
"I cannot say I blame her," Sir Benedict observed.
"I already knew her well enough to admire her character, and my father wondered whether I might consider the match.
I had shown little inclination toward marriage, despite Beatrice already being married, but after giving it careful thought I concluded that Elinor and I would suit one another very well, and we did. "
A fond smile touched his face. "I tell you this because I wish you to understand that, although Helena and I have not married for romantic affection, I have every confidence we shall have a happy marriage.
Elinor and I built one upon mutual respect, friendship, and trust, and Helena and I already possess those same foundations. "
Lady Fairchild reached for Tristan's arm and rested her hand upon it for a brief moment. "We understand perfectly, and we are most grateful that such an unfortunate situation has ended in so happy a manner." She glanced across the room toward Helena. "She is already quite at home with your family."
Tristan followed her gaze and found Helena deep in conversation with young Oliver, the pair looking as though they were conspiring together.
Georgiana approached the table and interrupted Oliver by saying something to Helena, who smiled warmly before turning back to whisper a few words in Oliver's ear.
The boy immediately sprang from his seat and hurried toward Beatrice.
Georgiana took the vacant chair beside Helena and, with a slight frown, began explaining something.
Helena listened attentively before shaking her head and replying with something that drew a laugh from Georgiana.
A moment later the two ladies rose together and crossed the room to join Beatrice, Oliver, and Charlotte.
Although Tristan had not heard a word of their conversation, there was something in the effortless way Helena had managed both Oliver's youthful enthusiasm and Georgiana's concern that made him smile with appreciation.
"Indeed, Lady Fairchild," he said at last, turning back to Sir Benedict and his wife. "She has a remarkable way with each of them." He could not help but feel certain that he had made the right decision in marrying Helena.
***
Once Helena's parents had left the Wycliffe townhouse, and Nathaniel and Charlotte had taken their leave as well, Tristan entered the morning parlor after his butler informed him that Helena was there.
She was still wearing her wedding gown, having yet to change, and stood looking out at the small walled garden where the peonies were in full bloom.
"It has been a rather eventful day so far," Tristan remarked as he crossed the room to stand beside her. "Are you quite exhausted by it?"
"I believe my mind is still making sense of all that has taken place," Helena replied with a laugh, turning to him. "The past three have been... well, I hardly know what to call them… a blur of emotions and events, perhaps."
Tristan nodded. After a moment, he asked, "Do you think you will be happy here, with me and my family?"
Helena looked up at him and smiled warmly. "I believe I already am." She hesitated before adding, "I confess, some of my happiest memories were the summers my family spent with yours."
"Mine too," Tristan admitted.
"Now, I have one question, as I do not believe you are the sort of gentleman to keep secrets from your wife." Helena raised an eyebrow in defiance. "I wish to know the story behind the painting you gifted me."
Tristan laughed and nodded his head slowly. "I did not tell you before, as there is more to it than I am willing to confess at present. However, now that you are my wife, I shall tell you the first part." He offered her his arm, and together they turned from the window.