Chapter 18 - The Wedding the County Never Expected
The morning of Cordelia’s wedding began with rain.
She opened the curtains and laughed.
Of course.
The sky had apparently developed a sense of humor.
Beatrice entered carrying tea.
“Do not tell me you consider this romantic.”
“I met him in rain.”
“You insulted him in rain.”
“An important foundation.”
Beatrice placed the tray down.
“You sent a Duke to a village inn.”
“I did not know he was a Duke.”
“Would it have changed anything?”
Cordelia considered.
“No.”
“I know.”
Beatrice smiled.
The wedding took place in the restored chapel near Thornwood.
Only part of the new manor had been completed.
Fresh stone stood beside blackened ruins deliberately left as a garden wall.
Cordelia had chosen that.
She did not want the past erased.
Only prevented from governing the future.
Her wedding gown was ivory silk.
Simple.
No enormous jewels.
Her mother’s silver comb held her hair.
Marian’s small locket rested against her throat.
Edmund wore dark green and took his responsibility as ring bearer with terrifying seriousness.
“I checked them four times.”
Cordelia smiled.
“Excellent.”
“What if I drop them?”
“Pick them up.”
“What if they roll away?”
“Chase them.”
“What if someone steals them?”
“Then Julian and I will live in scandal.”
Edmund looked horrified.
Cordelia kissed his forehead.
“Nobody will steal them.”
He relaxed slightly.
Then he whispered, “Are you still my Mama after you become Duchess?”
Cordelia’s heart cracked open.
She knelt despite her dress.
“Always.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
“And Papa Julian?”
“If he behaves.”
Edmund grinned.
Beatrice turned away to hide tears.
Outside, guests arrived.
Celeste wore lavender and threatened anyone who mentioned bad luck concerning rain.
Westcott carried legal papers because apparently he did not know how to attend social events without documents.
Mrs. Finch cried before the ceremony began.
Julian stood at the altar.
Cordelia saw him through the open chapel doors.
The man from the muddy road.
The man who had offered solutions before understanding questions.
The man who had learned.
So had she.
Beatrice offered her arm.
Cordelia looked at it.
“I thought Edmund would walk with me.”
“He will.”
Beatrice swallowed.
“But may I walk the first half?”
Cordelia understood.
Not giving her away.
Walking beside her.
Repair.
“Yes.”
The music began.
Beatrice and Cordelia entered together.
Halfway down the aisle, Beatrice stopped.
Edmund waited.
Beatrice kissed Cordelia’s cheek.
“No man receives you from me,” she whispered. “You choose where you go.”
Cordelia cried immediately.
“Now my face is ruined.”
“You remain stubbornly presentable.”
Cordelia laughed.
Edmund took her hand.
Together they continued.
Julian’s eyes never left her.
When she reached him, he whispered, “You came.”
“Despite considerable hesitation.”
“Cruel.”
“Honest.”
The ceremony began.
Their vows were traditional until Julian added his own.
“I promise to remember that loving you does not grant me authority over your heart.”
Cordelia nearly lost composure.
Then she answered.
“I promise to remember that accepting your love does not make me weak.”
Edmund whispered loudly, “Can I give the rings now?”
Everyone laughed.
The rain intensified against the chapel windows.
When the clergyman pronounced them married, Julian kissed Cordelia gently.
Then Edmund threw both arms around them.
Guests applauded.
Beatrice cried openly.
Celeste pretended she had something in her eye.
The reception filled the new Thornwood hall.
Six-layer cake appeared.
Edmund nearly fainted from happiness.
Workers from the estate attended beside titled neighbors.
That had scandalized several people.
Cordelia considered it a useful test of character.
Those offended were seated near Beatrice.
She enjoyed correcting them.
During supper, Julian stood.
Cordelia groaned.
“What are you doing?”
“Speech.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“We discussed this.”
“You forbade long speeches.”
“How long?”
“Brief.”
He lifted his glass.
“I met my wife beside a broken fence.”
Laughter.
“She was wet, angry and unimpressed.”
More laughter.
“She told me where to find an inn rather than invite me home.”
Beatrice called, “Wise girl.”
Everyone laughed.
Julian looked at Cordelia.
“I believed that day I had encountered the most difficult woman in Gloucestershire.”
“You were correct,” Celeste said.
Julian smiled.
“I later discovered difficulty is sometimes simply another name people give a woman who knows she possesses the right to refuse.”
The room quieted.
Cordelia’s eyes filled.
“She refused me more than once.”
“Three times,” Edmund announced.
“Thank you, Edmund.”
“You are welcome.”
Julian continued.
“And every refusal taught me something I should have known already.”
His gaze remained on Cordelia.
“That love is not winning someone.”
Cordelia swallowed.
“It is being trusted with the freedom they never surrender.”
Silence.
Then Beatrice began applauding.
Everyone joined.
Cordelia stood.
She walked to Julian.
“You embarrassed me.”
“Yes.”
“You were warned.”
“Yes.”
She kissed him.
“I will punish you later.”
“I look forward to marriage.”
The celebration continued until midnight.
Eventually Cordelia escaped outside.
Rain had stopped.
The grounds smelled of wet earth.
Julian found her near the surviving section of the old boundary wall.
“Tired?”
“Happy.”
“Dangerous.”
“Very.”
They walked to the road.
The repaired fence still stood.
The same rail.
Weathered now.
Cordelia touched it.
Julian smiled.
“Your carpentry survived.”
“Our carpentry.”
“You kicked it.”
“It responded to motivation.”
“You told me to get lost.”
“I directed you toward quality accommodation.”
“The Boar and Whistle had fleas.”
“You survived.”
“Barely.”
Cordelia looked at him.
“If you could return to that afternoon, would you change anything?”
Julian considered.
“No.”
“Not even the ditch?”
“Especially not the ditch.”
“Why?”
“Because you looked at me before knowing what I owned.”
Cordelia’s smile softened.
“And you helped me before knowing whether I was worth anything.”
“I knew.”
“What?”
“That you were worth something.”
She leaned against him.
Behind them, light glowed from Thornwood’s new windows.
Edmund’s laughter carried from inside.
Beatrice was probably terrifying a guest.
Celeste was probably encouraging her.
Cordelia looked at the house.
Warm.
Bright.
Alive.
Everything she had once believed impossible.
And yet their story was not quite finished.
Because the next morning, Edmund appeared at their breakfast table carrying an official-looking envelope.
“Mama?”
Cordelia looked up.
“Yes?”
“I think this belongs to me.”
The envelope bore the seal of Marian’s late husband’s family.
Inside was news nobody had expected.
May you like
Edmund had inherited an estate.
And with it came relatives who suddenly wanted him back.
