The Cautious Maiden

by Dawn Crandall

  Dr. Wellesley set his Bible down, took the bottle of wine and poured a small amount into the glass. Vance slowly placed the diamond ring to my left hand, as I held my flower in my right. “My faith and commitment, to you only, Violet. Behold, you are consecrated to me with this ring.”

  “But what about mine?” I asked, hardly audibly.

  “Your what?” Vance answered with a whisper.

  “I have no ring for you. What about the symbolism of my faith and commitment—your consecration to me?”

  “That’s what this is for—” and Vance took the glass of wine from Dr. Wellesley, took a small sip and then handed it to me. “If you’ll drink from the glass.”

  I tipped the glass and drank what was left inside, which wasn’t much. Dr. Wellesley immediately took it from me and wrapped it snugly within the white cloth.

  “This glass represents you, Vance and Violet, as a couple. Just as the glass, when it is broken, will enter a state from which it will never emerge.” He placed it upon the tiled floor between us, and with a nod of his head, “Vance, you may now—”

  Vance stomped upon the sheathed glass, crushing it against the brick pathway.

  “You will also now enter this new life together as permanently as this glass is now shattered,” Dr. Wellesley explained. “You will be one, committed and bound together forever by your vows.” He then handed each of us a piece of paper. “For the benefit of the shortened ceremony, you merely need to read them—”

  Without being asked twice, I held up mine and started reading aloud by the light of the torches along the path. “I, Violet, take thee, Vance, to be my wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward.” My left hand was still clutched by Vance’s right. “To cherish, till death do us part, according to God’s holy ordinance; and thereto I pledge myself to you.”

  “And now, Vance.”

  After a split second, in which he seemed only able to stare down at me, he looked down to his paper and read, “I, Vance, take thee, to be my wedded wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, to cherish, till death do us part, according to God’s holy ordinance;” until, for the last, most wonderful sentence, he looked me in the eyes, “And thereto I pledge myself to you, Violet.”

  “Inasmuch as Vance and Violet have declared their devotion to each other before you, their witnesses, by the authority vested in me, I pronounce them to be husband and wife.”

  Miss Abernathy clapped excitedly as soon as the words were said, and Roxy followed her example after a short delay. We then all signed the marriage contract, and Miss Abernathy gave me a hug. “I have been praying for you, Violet. For a long time.”

  I smiled at her, at her joy in seeing me wedded to Vance, whom she’d known since he was born.

  So that was it? I was really Mrs. Vance Everstone so quickly?

  “Well, I’ll say. Thank you for the unexpectedly romantic evening!” Miss Abernathy hobbled back through the arch we’d entered the garden by. “But it’s getting to be late, and I think Roxy and I will be headed home now.”

  Roxy followed her quietly, and I realized she’d not said a single word since we’d left Hilldreth Manor earlier that evening in heading to the train station.

  “Thank you for being a witness for my wedding, Roxy,” I said as she walked away.

  She turned, and at least attempted a smile. “I am happy for you, Violet. More than I can say.”

  “Come along Roxy, dear, let’s leave them be. They’ll want to be alone now, now that they can.”

  Vance and I followed them to the outer garden area. Dr. Wellesley walked behind us, and after a final blessing-filled goodbye, went back into the church.

  Miss Abernathy and Roxy went on to their carriage without another word.

  When Vance helped me into his carriage, I took my normal seat, facing front. And then as he entered after me, he came to sit next to me. Our arms were immediately around each other as the carriage started down the street. I held him, my cheek pressed to his thudding chest, and he simply held me back. I hadn’t known such contentedness was even possible; how two people could be joined and become one so effortlessly.

  The only thing either of us said the short distance home to Everthorne was Vance’s secret whisper in my ear: “I am my beloved’s, and my beloved is finally mine.”

  23

  Home

  “On the secretly blushing cheek is reflected the glow of the heart.”

  —Søren Kierkegaard

  When we arrived at Everthorne, we were greeted at the door by Brubaker, the butler.

  “Welcome home, Mr. Everstone. I trust the wedding went well?” He took our hats, as well as the bag with my current manuscripts, which I’d left in the carriage during the wedding.

  “Very well, indeed,” Vance answered as he slipped out of his jacket and handed it to the butler.

  Seeing him in just his dark gray waistcoat and shirtsleeves did something funny to my heart. It began beating erratically, and I had to literally force my lingering gaze from him.

  “I’m glad to hear it, sir.”

  Vance looped his arm about my waist. “And since you haven’t officially met yet, this is my wife, Mrs. Violet Everstone. Violet, this is Brubaker, our butler.”

  Brubaker turned specifically to me and added, “It’s nice to finally meet you, Mrs. Everstone.”

  “Thank you, Brubaker. It’s wonderful to finally be home.”

  He bowed a few inches. “I’m sure you’ll do a splendid job of making Everthorne a home, indeed, ma’am. Your luggage was delivered to your rooms earlier, and your horse is situated in the stable.” Before I could answer, he again faced Vance. “I trust you’d rather not be disturbed for the remainder of the evening?”

  Vance cleared his throat gruffly. “Quite right—”

  “Oh, do wait just a minute before sending them up!” An older lady stepped out of the dining room down the hall with a tray balanced in her hands. “I’ve made up a little something for the two of you. I hope you don’t mind, Mr. Everstone.”

  “Not at all, Mrs. Jeffries.” Vance grinned, obviously not surprised by his housekeeper’s foresight.

  The woman stopped in front of us, and while still holding the tray, slightly bowed her head, “Mrs. Everstone. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  Vance’s hand slid up my back as we both studied the tray she presented to us. It was filled with chocolate-covered fruit of all kinds. “Violet, this is our housekeeper, Mrs. Jeffries.”

  “I’ll take this up to your rooms, then.” She was headed up the stairs with the tray before either of us could respond.

  I was a little bemused at her industry. She couldn’t have known about there being a Mrs. Everstone for more than a few hours. Once Brubaker had excused himself and headed down the hall and Mrs. Jeffries had made it to the landing at the top of the stairs, Vance wrapped his other arm around me, bringing us face-to-face. From the adoring look he gave me, I could almost believe he loved me.

  “You’re finally mine,” he uttered.

  I nodded my head, blushing shyly, but it was enough of an answer, for his arms tightened around my waist. He bent his face closer to mine, but he didn’t touch my lips with his. Instead, he pressed his cheek to mine and whispered in my ear, “Remind me to thank your brother the next time I see him.”

  “You really don’t think we would have eventually come to this if not for his meddling?”

  “I doubt it. I wouldn’t have allowed it of myself.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I could never deserve you, Violet.”

  I reached to touch his shoulder, then ran my hand down his arm and heard his quick intake of breath. “So you think, husband. Yet here I am, willingly.”

  Even if Ben hadn’t decided to marry someone else, giving me hardly any other option, I still would have chosen Vance once he was there at the station asking me to. There was no contest. I loved him. And being married to Ben—no matter how formidable of a gentleman he was—while bein
g in love with Vance would have been, I was certain, veritable torture every day for the rest of my life. Would I really have gone through with it once I’d made it to Tennessee?

  “I’m sorry about the last three weeks. If it helps to make you feel better, I was absolutely miserable, first as I tried to convince myself to break our engagement, and then as it was broken. I thought I was doing what was best for you.”

  “That you were equally as miserable does make me feel a little better.” I smiled nervously.

  When we’d met at the train station, it had already been past dinnertime, and now what were we to do? It seemed so strange to be alone, and be expected to retire for the evening together.

  “I was a coward, Vance. I should have let you in at the ball. I ran away in fear from you, when I should have run to you—”

  “I never imagined that Ava could be so vicious, that she would risk her own good name to slander yours. She doesn’t know how much I’ve changed in the last year. And I have to admit, the side she revealed at the ball would have matched me quite well before. I was just as cruel once—”

  “But you’re not now.” I placed my right hand over his heart.

  He leaned over me, bringing his face close to mine. He whispered, “You’re too good to forgive me so easily. You’ve forgiven so much.”

  He was so close to saying what I wanted to hear, perhaps all he needed was solid confirmation from me.

  “That’s because I love you,” I whispered back.

  He didn’t answer audibly, but brought one hand from my back to my elbow, then to my shoulder, and finally my neck. He raked his fingers through my short hair; easily loosening the strands from their pins. I heard a few of them fall to the polished wood floor, but I didn’t care.

  The hand still at my back pressed in, bringing me flush against him, and I reached up and kissed him, much like the time a month before, right after he’d given me my Lippencott book contract. But this time, it didn’t matter what the consequences of my daring actions would be, because we were married.

  As he kissed me back, and kept kissing me, I gripped the back of his arms with both hands, and I could feel the contours of his muscles through the material of his shirt. I remembered the vision of him in my bed at the dormitory…his bare arm, his shoulders, his tussled hair. I couldn’t help but press farther. I wanted all that; I just had to get past my nerves.

  Vance broke away, but stayed ever so close, his breath mingled with mine. “You took my name today, Violet. You’re Violet Everstone now. You’re mine, and I’m yours. Will you take me, all of me?” He paused for just a second, but before I could think of anything coherent to say, he hurried on, “I don’t want to push you. I know you never expected to see me again mere hours ago, but here you are, now my wife, and I hope—”

  “I do,” I breathed my answer. “I will.” I still stayed so close, but took a step back, bringing him with me. “I don’t know about you, but I’m famished for one of those chocolate covered strawberries Mrs. Jeffries had on the tray she took up to my room.”

  “Well then, by all means, let’s go find that tray. I wouldn’t want you to starve.”

  I smiled, took his hand, and led him to the stairs. We went up the steps slowly and awkwardly. I still wasn’t certain I was ready, but I would be. I would be eventually. I’d been halfway there once before, hadn’t I? Why did I feel so nervous?

  Because this was planned. Purposeful. This was what we were supposed to do now. And it seemed more staged than exhilarating as I took those long, arduous steps up to the bedroom which would now be mine, next to his.

  As we made it to the head of the staircase, I heard Mrs. Jeffries whistling toward the back of the house, likely taking the back stairs down to the kitchen.

  “They’ll leave us be, as promised,” Vance assured. “Would you like to see your room? I hope you like it.”

  “I’m sure I will. How many bedrooms are there?” I asked, hating how forced I sounded.

  “Six, plus the nursery on the attic level.”

  “Could we perhaps make one of these bedrooms,” I motioned down the hall, “the nursery instead of having it in the attic? I like how involved Natalia and Amaryllis were with their babies, and there would be less chance of, you know, bats.”

  “We can do anything you’d like, dear wife.”

  Vance guided me to the second door to our left and opened it for me, allowing me to enter first into the dimly lit rooms. And “rooms” really was what it consisted of—the main bedroom, an attached bathroom and another space that opened up to the bedroom that was set up as more of a sitting area.

  And fortunately, it wasn’t all too big, which was a fear I’d had upon first setting foot in the house. The only time I’d actually seen the rooms, they had been bare of any wallpapering, flooring or drapes—and now, it was the picture of perfection in shades of pink, beige, and white. The colors complimented the dark wood trim of the doors, windows, and crown molding. The bed was white with beige and light pink pillows and coverings. It was something of a sleigh bed, but without a footboard, and if I recalled correctly, was considered French Provincial, and matched all of the other pieces of furniture in the room. The tray of chocolate covered fruit from Mrs. Jeffries was situated on one of the night stands next to the bed.

  There were two floor-to-ceiling windows facing the doorway we stood in, covered in lace and pink brocade. Between them was a mirror almost as tall, situated in front of a vanity table. There was a sofa in the corner, and a fireplace with a wardrobe next to that which was opened to display all of the dresses from my wedding trousseau. And hanging on a hook, seemingly set aside, a fine, velvety blue-and-lace dressing gown and matching slippers I’d never seen before. Next to that, was the door to Vance’s bedroom.

  I swallowed, unable to take a step farther into the room with Vance standing beside me. Suddenly, my thumbnail was between my teeth, and I chewed it nervously. “Um, may I have a few minutes, in my room, alone?”

  “Of course, I need to go downstairs for something anyway.”

  I really doubted he had anything to actually take care of downstairs, but I welcomed the distance his errand afforded. I needed some time to myself, some time to gather my nerves and to prepare.

  The truth was, I had no idea what to expect, except that the times in which Vance had kissed me up to that point had basically turned me into a pile of mush. As I slipped off my gray dress suit I’d donned that morning, expecting two days of travel, I decided to keep my chemise and corset on, foregoing completely changing for bed. I pulled on the brand new dressing gown and slippers and looked in the mirror above the vanity.

  My hair had basically come undone downstairs when Vance had tunneled his fingers through it, which seemed appropriate, since I knew he loved it that way.

  As I stood there, staring at the mirror, I heard the door from the hall to the next room—Vance’s room—open and then close.

  I sat upon my new bed, running my hand over the fine material of the coverlet. Was I supposed to sit there and wait for him?

  After a few moments, I stood again.

  I couldn’t.

  Quickly stalking over to the door to his room, I stood there silently. It would mean so much more to him if I came to him; a proof of my love and my willingness.

  That was when I realized he’d never said he loved me after I’d admitted as much to him. He’d only kissed me. But that wasn’t exactly reciprocation; that only meant he still wanted me as much as he ever had…which meant I needed to reach deeper into his heart.

  I wanted it to beat for me. I wanted to make him respond to me in ways I’d only had glimpses of in the last few months. Maybe once the flames were fanned, he would tell me. Maybe once everything he wanted was within his grasp, he would realize what I wanted to hear from him?

  With a slow breath out, I knocked on the door.

  When he answered, I had a quick look at his bedroom, but I could barely focus on the darkened interior. I could only see the man sta
nding before me. He was still dressed in the clothes he’d met me at the station in, minus his jacket of course, which was downstairs. And now he was missing his cravat, his shirt collar opened exposing his neck.

  I stepped over the threshold and closed the door behind me. His eyes hadn’t left the securely tied bodice of my dressing gown since he’d opened the door, and his breathing had become noticeably uneven. But then he smiled, shaking his head slowly. “I’m sorry, I just didn’t expect you would—”

  “I can go back to waiting in my room, if you’d like.” I crossed my arms snugly around my upper waist, nervously snagging the lace with my fingertips.

  “No.” He swallowed loudly, which made me smile. “No more waiting.” He unbuttoned the top button of his waistcoat.

  Suddenly, I felt brave, so fiercely courageous. I took a step forward and helped him with the next button down.

  Cautious little me, who’d never touched a man, let alone kissed one until I’d been forced into this arrangement with Vance, and now all I wanted was to show him how much I loved him, how much I belonged with him, no matter what he thought he did or didn’t deserve.

  He stopped and stared down at my fingers working at the next button. “You don’t know what you’re doing, Violet.”

  Was it that obvious? I stopped, burying my face into his chest, completely embarrassed; my fingers still lingering around the third button down I’d just freed.

  His arm slid across my shoulders. “I meant you don’t know what you’re doing to me,” he chuckled, his voice low. And then with one long dark look, he silently asked my permission again. There were no words to convey what exactly the look meant, only that it was a strange mix of respect, anxiety, and desire.