could not divine, but she could not make out Geoffrey in the moment her head was allowed to show around the door.
“Get back!” Emmeline hissed sternly, pulling her back by the arm. “No one is supposed to see the bride before the ceremony. I’ll look.”
She did so, and returned to the bride’s side to report, “He looks quite dashing. Gray is fine, probably better than dark blue. Blue can be so somber. This is a wedding, after all, Mama.”
“But I ordered that dark blue linen be laid for the luncheon,” Mama almost wailed.
“Perhaps I could change into my blue sarcenet for the luncheon?” Alessandra suggested.
“Why, yes, of course. Although it is not strictly new. I would have liked to order something made up, of the latest mode. But I think if I get out Aunt Agatha’s sapphires for you, that would do very nicely. You can save your new rose gown for the going-away trip.”
“Going-away trip?” Alessandra echoed faintly. It had not occurred to her that she might be traveling. It had never been mentioned.
Her mother was the picture of guilt. “Well... I...! Never mind about that now. Oh, there is the music. Where is your father?”
That fellow came scurrying down the aisle of the church, his gray-streaked hair flying a little in the rush of air he created. He had his son Oliver in hand, and immediately sent that fellow forward with his mother on his arm. He himself had just enough time to catch his breath and to gather up his daughter’s hand on his arm before it was their turn to step out into the aisle.
“I was making sure the groom was here. And sober,” he whispered in an aside to Alessandra.
“Never say he is drunk!” Alessandra whispered in alarm. Every head, and there were a surprising many on such short notice, that had not already turned in their direction, did so now at the sharp sound.
“No, no, not at all. Just making sure, don’t you know. It wouldn’t be the first time at a wedding like this.” He whispered one last admonition, “Smile!”
She responded at once, for it was easy to do. She always smiled like a fool when she was nervous.
***
Geoffrey looked down the aisle at his approaching bride, for a moment stunned by her transformation. Her lustrous hair had been pulled back and bound into a chignon behind the Juliet cap she wore. Her face, always pretty, was now positively stunning, as her high cheekbones and the ideal angle of her jaw line were exposed. Her long dark lashes, framing her glittering blue eyes, were made all the more colorful by the golden hue of the satin gown with its overlay of lace. He saw her lips were the perfect pink of a rosebud, very flattering to her complexion. He had never really thought about the fact he was at least a head taller than she, but now, in her bridal gown, her diminutive size was brought home to him. He noted, though, that the gown revealed a figure of womanly proportions: breasts that were high and well-rounded, and a diminutive waist that led the eye on to hips of just the right dimensions for comely balance.
He frowned quickly to himself, chastising himself for making these assessments, and turned his eyes away to stare fixedly toward a stained-glass window set in the side wall.
***
When her father stepped away from her at the altar, Alessandra thought for a panicky moment that her legs were going to go out from under her. Then Geoffrey’s arm was there, and she was forced to cling to him as though he were a lifeline.
Together they kneeled before the vicar. She was ashamed to think Geoffrey must be able to feel her trembling, but there was nothing she could do to prevent it. She couldn’t even raise her eyes to meet his. What was she doing here? Why was she marrying him? Wasn’t this all just a farce? Who was this man, so apparently unruffled, kneeling beside her before God and this entire assembly? Her thoughts chased each other around in her head, until suddenly she realized she was being addressed.
“…Do you,
“Get back!” Emmeline hissed sternly, pulling her back by the arm. “No one is supposed to see the bride before the ceremony. I’ll look.”
She did so, and returned to the bride’s side to report, “He looks quite dashing. Gray is fine, probably better than dark blue. Blue can be so somber. This is a wedding, after all, Mama.”
“But I ordered that dark blue linen be laid for the luncheon,” Mama almost wailed.
“Perhaps I could change into my blue sarcenet for the luncheon?” Alessandra suggested.
“Why, yes, of course. Although it is not strictly new. I would have liked to order something made up, of the latest mode. But I think if I get out Aunt Agatha’s sapphires for you, that would do very nicely. You can save your new rose gown for the going-away trip.”
“Going-away trip?” Alessandra echoed faintly. It had not occurred to her that she might be traveling. It had never been mentioned.
Her mother was the picture of guilt. “Well... I...! Never mind about that now. Oh, there is the music. Where is your father?”
That fellow came scurrying down the aisle of the church, his gray-streaked hair flying a little in the rush of air he created. He had his son Oliver in hand, and immediately sent that fellow forward with his mother on his arm. He himself had just enough time to catch his breath and to gather up his daughter’s hand on his arm before it was their turn to step out into the aisle.
“I was making sure the groom was here. And sober,” he whispered in an aside to Alessandra.
“Never say he is drunk!” Alessandra whispered in alarm. Every head, and there were a surprising many on such short notice, that had not already turned in their direction, did so now at the sharp sound.
“No, no, not at all. Just making sure, don’t you know. It wouldn’t be the first time at a wedding like this.” He whispered one last admonition, “Smile!”
She responded at once, for it was easy to do. She always smiled like a fool when she was nervous.
***
Geoffrey looked down the aisle at his approaching bride, for a moment stunned by her transformation. Her lustrous hair had been pulled back and bound into a chignon behind the Juliet cap she wore. Her face, always pretty, was now positively stunning, as her high cheekbones and the ideal angle of her jaw line were exposed. Her long dark lashes, framing her glittering blue eyes, were made all the more colorful by the golden hue of the satin gown with its overlay of lace. He saw her lips were the perfect pink of a rosebud, very flattering to her complexion. He had never really thought about the fact he was at least a head taller than she, but now, in her bridal gown, her diminutive size was brought home to him. He noted, though, that the gown revealed a figure of womanly proportions: breasts that were high and well-rounded, and a diminutive waist that led the eye on to hips of just the right dimensions for comely balance.
He frowned quickly to himself, chastising himself for making these assessments, and turned his eyes away to stare fixedly toward a stained-glass window set in the side wall.
***
When her father stepped away from her at the altar, Alessandra thought for a panicky moment that her legs were going to go out from under her. Then Geoffrey’s arm was there, and she was forced to cling to him as though he were a lifeline.
Together they kneeled before the vicar. She was ashamed to think Geoffrey must be able to feel her trembling, but there was nothing she could do to prevent it. She couldn’t even raise her eyes to meet his. What was she doing here? Why was she marrying him? Wasn’t this all just a farce? Who was this man, so apparently unruffled, kneeling beside her before God and this entire assembly? Her thoughts chased each other around in her head, until suddenly she realized she was being addressed.
“…Do you,
Similar Books
