58
From there, the week ahead began to feel like it would be a string of celebrations.
At home with Oliver after her dress fitting, they toasted her finished book with a bottle of champagne, then settled on the sofa for a long catchup over details they’d forgotten to share with each other over the past few weeks, as well as plans and ideas for the days ahead.
Those details included Cristobel’s letters. Aurelia showed him each one and explained how she might use them in her next book, the one about a fictional Cristobel opening her own shop in the early nineteen hundreds.
“You’re ready to tackle another book already?” Oliver asked as he refilled their glasses with more champagne.
“I am. I think that was part of why I was dragging my feet on finishing my art book—I was ready to move on. But I’m glad I got back into the swing of it. I didn’t like feeling like I was doing the story an injustice by rushing through.”
“You know,” Oliver began with a playful lift of an eyebrow, “talking through blocks, issues with deadlines, and struggling to finish a novel—those are all things you might like talking about with a writing group.”
Aurelia opened her mouth to argue, then closed it before saying, “Oh, you mean a real one?”
“Yes, one with writers who live in this century—helpful as David Copperfield might have been.”
Oliver pinched his lips together in an obvious effort not to laugh.
“He did have some great ideas,” Aurelia insisted, which set Oliver laughing. “He did! But… alright. I hear you. It actually might have been good to get some advice on working to a deadline.”
“A few of my writers meet once a month. If you want, I could put you in touch with them and you can see if they’re a good fit. It sounds like sometimes they just chat about life, but sometimes one of them will tell me how the group helped them work through one issue or another.”
“Do you think they’d mind one more?”
“No, I’m sure they’d love it. You can chat with them about writing, and then you can ask your fictional friends for details about Cristobel.”
“Okay,” Aurelia said with a nod. “I like it—a real, nonfictional, from-this-century writing group.”
They stayed up late talking, but when Oliver asked if she wanted to visit the characters that night, she could once again honestly say that she didn’t.
Aurelia knew Oliver meant it when he said he wouldn’t mind, but she wanted to enjoy that ease in pressure she’d been feeling now that her secret was out, now that Julia could see them too, and she didn’t feel as though she was somehow responsible for keeping the magic going.
She’d visit them the next night—if she wanted.
She knew they’d be there waiting for her and knew they’d understand.
With nothing to preoccupy her the next day, Aurelia was able to catch up on the business of the shop, like placing orders, paying bills, and sparing more than a few minutes for her regular customers.
She also fielded calls from her father and Antonia, who wanted her to repeat the plan for the next few days: hen/stag do the following evening, a family dinner at Johanna and Geoff’s the night after that, then the wedding itself.
Repeating the order of events didn’t help to make it all seem real to Aurelia—that her and Oliver’s plans were finally about to be realized, with their friends and family there to witness it all.
That night, the two of them went to dinner at the restaurant where they’d be having the wedding reception.
It was the same restaurant where they had met for their first meeting as writer and editor, where Oliver had begun to let his reserve drop and Aurelia had confessed jokingly (with Oliver never guessing it was the truth) that Vronsky told her what he wanted her to write.
They’d become regulars at the restaurant, which wasn’t far from the shop, so the owners were only too happy to host their reception.
The chef put on a five-course meal for them (with two dessert courses), giving Aurelia and Oliver an excuse to linger until near closing, enjoying the time alone together before the wedding festivities moved into full swing.
As they walked home, Oliver took her hand and reminded her that this was their last date before they’d make things official.
“That’s right,” Aurelia said dreamily. “I keep thinking how lucky we are that ours will be a marriage of true affection.”
Oliver stopped in his tracks and let out a burst of laughter. Aurelia had taken a step forward before she realized, and he pulled her back to him.
“What? I was being very romantic. Why’s that funny?”
“A marriage of true affection?” he repeated, laughing still.
“Well, I had great affection for you, until you started laughing at me,” Aurelia said, teasingly trying to pull away from him as he wrapped his arms around her.
“I have nothing but ‘true affection’ for you,” he said, kissing whichever part of her face he could reach as she tried to wriggle free. “Even though you’ve been spending too much time around nineteenth-century characters who use phrases like ‘a marriage of true affection.’”
Aurelia stopped her attempts to escape and her mouth fell open.
“Oh, honestly… I didn’t even notice, but you’re right—Lizzy used those exact words the other night!”
They were both laughing, then, and she kissed him.
“Do I need to add to my vows that I’ll promise not to recite archaic sentiments I’ve overheard from the characters?”
“You can use whichever sentiments you like, as long as they’re nice ones,” Oliver insisted, kissing her again before taking her hand in his and leading her home.
They’d fallen asleep together, but fortunately when Aurelia’s alarm went off just before midnight, it only woke her.
She slipped into the bathroom to change, then went downstairs to make her usual cup of coffee while she waited for everyone to appear.
The relief of being back in a routine—of having things back to normal with her, with Oliver, with everything—washed over her again.
Well, it was a better state of normal than she’d had before, she reminded herself, since she was no longer carrying the burden of a secret.
Her thoughts were scattered by the mists that began rising above the Recommended Reads table, and she broke into a full grin as she watched the characters arrive.
She couldn’t help the good mood that was bubbling out of her, leading the characters to ask if she’d had some pleasant news.
Aurelia told them she’d had a good few days and was happy to see them, which was true.
But in the last hour before dawn, she made a confession to Lizzy as they sat together on the window seat.
“Actually, I do have some excitement happening in my life.”
“Indeed? I sensed your protestations may have been masking some intrigue.”
“Well, it might seem like a bit of intrigue… I want to tell you, but I’m afraid I might shock you.”
Lizzy drew up her eyebrows and leaned in, inviting Aurelia to continue.
“Oliver and I aren’t actually married—not yet.”
“Not yet married… But did you not tell us that you had left him sleeping upstairs this evening?” Lizzy whispered.
“I did.”
Lizzy’s eyebrows rose still further, but a smile continued playing at her mouth.
Lizzy’s sister had run off and lived with a man for a few days before eventually marrying him.
It had caused a brief family scandal, but it was smoothed over, leading Aurelia to hope Lizzy might be a little more open-minded than other characters from her time might be.
That thought reminded Aurelia that she ought to clarify something.
“Oh! In my time, men and women often live together when they’re not married. It’s pretty common, actually.”
“Is it? And is this something that your family deems… appropriate?”
“Our parents know we live together,” Aurelia said, trying to suppress a laugh at the thought of any of them disapproving. “It’s all above board—really—and we’re getting married in just a few days.”
“Will it be a well-attended wedding?” Lizzy asked carefully, perhaps thinking of her sister’s rapid, under-the-radar ceremony.
“It won’t be a big do, but our friends and family are coming. It’ll be just there, actually,” Aurelia said, pointing out the window to the square. “We’re having the ceremony outside, which is also somewhat common in my time,” she added.
Lizzy’s shoulders relaxed and she leaned toward Aurelia again.
“Are you excited, then? I remember nearly tripping over myself with happiness in the days before my wedding. Marriage always seemed like an obligation or a duty, but once Mr. Darcy and I were engaged,” she said, peering down at him through the mezzanine railing, “I came to appreciate its charms.”
They began comparing notes on their matches, giggling like Kitty and Julia the more they talked.
As the sky began its telltale lightening in the minutes before dawn, Aurelia and Lizzy joined the others downstairs, where Aurelia let them know that she’d likely miss the chance to visit with them for a few days.
Rochester waved her off dismissively, saying they’d be just fine on their own, while Lizzy gave her a secretive smile that threatened to set the two women laughing once more.