She could spread her arms wide, breathe in life, and know nothing would smash her in the gut.
At the end of Steven’s Road, the carriage turned north instead of south toward Nathaniel’s Ocean Boulevard cottage.
“Jonathan?” She peered up at the royal aide-turned-footman. “Where are we going?”
He ignored her, eyes fixed straight ahead.
She would see when she arrived. The clop-clop of the horses’ hooves paired with the gentle sway of the carriage from side to side rocked her into a sweet peace. If one was going to be a princess, then one must learn to enjoy being a princess. She pictured Nathaniel, aching to be in his arms.
Burt called a gentle, deep “Whoa” to the horses as he pulled up to Christ Church.
Susanna angled forward, squinting at the massive glow dripping down from the trees, soaking the grounds in a white, cozy light. Did she hear an orchestra?
“Milady.” Jonathan appeared at her side, offering his hand.
Raising her skirt, Susanna stepped over the side of the carriage, landing softly on the ground, shards of excitement fueling her pulse.
“What’s going on, Jon?” She held on to his hand, refusing to let him step forward.
“You know, Suz, you ask too many questions.”
She balked at his abrupt break of character. “Wouldn’t you?” she said, squeezing his fingers.
“If you’ll walk with me, and let go of my hand so some of the blood can flow to my heart, you’ll have your answer.” Jonathan twisted his hand from her grasp, making a face.
With a slight push on her elbow, he directed her toward the front door, pausing when they stepped under the garden entrance.
“I’ve been silent about things since you left Brighton, Susanna, because it was not my place to speak. But since I’m on American soil, I’ll act the part of an American. Don’t be a bugger.”
She bristled. “Jon, look, I—” Susanna broke off, laughing. “Okay, I won’t be a bugger.”
He grinned. “I know this is not all easy for you, but you need to know I’ve never seen Nathaniel like this. And I’ve known him a long time. He’s turning his world upside down to please one person. You. He’s crazy in love and using all of his kingly prowess to prove it to you. To prove he’s worth everything he’s asking you to give up. How can he compete with your family? With your American ways? How can he compete with you? Giving up your citizenship and what all?” He sighed as if he might regret his outburst. “Just know if you refuse what’s on the other side of this entrance, you’ll break his heart and I’m not sure he’ll ever recover.”
She drew a long breath, returning Jon’s steely gaze. “You’re a good friend, Jon. And I’ve no intention of breaking his heart.”
“Because I know a good thing when I see it.” He smiled. “My apologies for violating protocol and speaking out of turn.”
“No apology needed when I’ve been acting like a fool.” She kissed his cheek, then stretched to see around the square post of the portico. “Besides, friends speak the truth to friends.”
“Susanna.” Jonathan stepped away from her. “I’m going to leave you now. But wait here.” He pointed his finger at her. “Your prince will come.”
Nathaniel waited for Susanna to arrive in the so-called foyer of this outdoor sanctuary, wearing his grandfather’s World War II uniform.
All afternoon, he vacillated between calm and panic, white-hot nerves assailing his confidence. He didn’t fare well with his last public proclamation of love, but he knew he had to break free of his fear and shame.
And in his heart of hearts, he knew Susanna was the one to help him shed his shackles.
His heart skipped a beat as the clatter of horses rang in his ears and the black carriage flashed past the trees.
Through the shrubbery and swaying Spanish moss, he caught a glimpse of Susanna.
It had taken a Herculean effort not to ring her today. But if he heard her voice, he knew he’d want to see her. And if he saw her, he’d spoil his surprise.
So he purported to have king’s business to attend. Which, in fact, he did, but really, he fussed about with busy work to keep his heart from going insane while waiting for this evening to come.
If she said yes to this wild idea, they’d be married by sunset. Man and wife.
Susanna’s family, along with his staff, had worked half the night and through the day to create an outdoor cathedral for this spontaneous dream wedding.
Behind him, a hundred or so guests were seated in white wooden chairs while a sixteen-piece orchestra gathered from island residents played “Air” from Bach’s Suite no.3.
Nathaniel’s heart swelled with each stroke of the violin’s bow.
The moment Susanna crested the portico, he had nearly buckled with the power of her beauty. It caused his heart to stumble in ways he never thought possible. Susanna was more than a vision standing there in a pale mauve gown; she was the essence of his soul.
Beautiful, yes, but she was also wise and kind, loving, considerate, devoted, and loyal. The kind of woman a king needed beside him.
His breathing shallowed as Jonathan headed down the brick path to his station by the wedding altar, smiling at Nathaniel and offering him a salute.
That was Nathaniel’s cue to move forward to his bride.
The Bach piece peaked on a high note, then gently swooned toward Pachelbel’s Canon in D, Susanna’s favorite wedding music.
Nathaniel smiled, making his way to her. Her posture and presence, paired with the blue intensity of her eyes and the way her lips parted when she saw him, nearly brought him to his knees. Heaven help him, he was trapped with no way out.
“Hello, love,” he said, taking her hands into his.
“Hey, yourself.” Low, sweet, an inviting warmth in every syllable.
“A surprise.” He gestured toward the outdoor sanctuary. “Your dream wedding. If you’ll have me.”
“Oh Nathaniel, you didn’t—” Susanna’s voice quivered and her eyes misted. “You didn’t have to do this.”
“Susanna Jean Truitt . . .” Nathaniel drew her close. “Will you marry me tonight? I realize the past few months in Brighton have been trying. You’ve done more than your fair share of changing and coming to my side. I stand here now at your side. I love you for who and what you are. Your American heart is more precious to me than anything else. I need you to know I see your heart.”
“I know you do. I do . . . Nathaniel, I can’t believe you did this.” Tears pooled in her eyes. Her glistening, pink lower lip trembled in time with the hovering note of the strings. “Of course I’ll marry you. But I didn’t need all of this to know you are by my side. I was just clinging to my old self, my old plan.” She made a face and he laughed.
“Then this is for me. To prove to you that I adore you, love you, and am devoted to you above my crown and kingdom. You are my heart. I’ve a duty to my family, to my country, but even more, I have a duty to my God to love you as I love myself. This is for me.” He grinned. “I want to marry the American woman who bewitched me under Lovers’ Oak the moment I laid eyes on her.” He squeezed her hands. “This is our day. Just you and me, with our friends and families. Let our Brighton wedding be about the crown and the kingdom, but this, love, is all about us.” He reached for one of her curls, brushing his fingers lightly over her neck. “You take my breath away.”
She fell into him, raising her eyes to his. “I’ll marry you, Nathaniel, tonight, here in Brighton, anywhere, anytime.” He brushed away her tears with a light touch of his fingertips. “God’s got this, doesn’t He? How can I be so narrow to always want things my way?”
“I’ll help you overcome your fears if you help me overcome mine.” He tipped his head toward the waiting guests. “Let’s dry your tears.” He reached in his breast pocket for a handkerchief and handed it to her.
She laughed through another surge of tears. “My other grandma’s wedding handkerchief.” She pressed it to her nose. “I can still smell
her perfume.”
“Your daddy gave it to me so she could be with us in spirit.” He kissed her forehead while drawing a gift from his jacket. A gift he’d moved heaven and earth to have finished and shipped in time for tonight.
“What’s this you’re wearing?” She brushed her hand over his grandfather’s white, fine wool naval jacket and medals.
“Grandfather’s World War II uniform. Mum’s dad. He was a naval commander and wore this very uniform at his wedding.” Nathaniel drew a heart-shaped diamond pendant from his pocket. The flawless stones absorbed the white glow of the lights draped through the shadows of the trees, creating pale orbs against his skin. “I was going to give this to you on our wedding day in Brighton, but it’s fitting now. American or not, Susanna, you are my wife, my princess, and . . .” He motioned to the intricate design inside the heart-shaped pendant. “Your cipher. See?” He paused, clearing his throat.
“Nathaniel, it’s exquisite.” Susanna trembled with her fingers over her lips.
“Your official title is engraved here.” Nathaniel turned the piece over. “HRH Crown Princess Susanna of Brighton Kingdom.”
“Princess. Wow, there it is.” She laughed softly through her tears. “And what’s this?” she whispered, touching the delicate key ornament attached to the chain.
“The key to my heart.” The full force of his feelings for her burst to the surface and threatened to overpower him. “A sign of my promise to put you first, before the kingdom, before my duties as king, to the best of my weak, human ability. Only the Lord will come before you. It’s the only way I can be any kind of good husband and decent king.” He steadied his heart and slowly moved to clasp the piece around her neck. It couldn’t have a more beautiful home.
The sparkle in her eyes rivaled the brilliance of the diamond necklace.
When he stood before her again, she hooked her hands over his arms. “I give you everything, babe. My heart, body, soul, and citizenship. When I get afraid that life is beyond my control, I will remember this moment and say, ‘See what God can do.’ ”
“Let’s not keep the guests waiting any longer.” He offered her his arm.
“Not another moment.” Her smile beamed light across the entire church grounds.
Nathaniel signaled to Jonathan, who then cued the orchestra to play Pachelbel’s Canon again. Gracie and Avery rose from their front row seats and stood on the bride’s side of the altar wearing pink dresses of some kind.
On the groom’s side, Stephen wore his Royal Air Force uniform while Colin sported an Armani suit sent along by the designer himself. With his compliments.
As the guests stood and Nathaniel started down the aisle, Susanna drew back. “Wait, wait, wait . . .”
His beating heart screeched to a halt.
“Is this legal? Babe, we don’t have a license for Georgia.”
“See the man on the front row?” Nathaniel’s heart started beating again. “He’s from the county clerk’s office. All we have to do is sign the license and we’re legally married.”
“Before we are officially married in Brighton?”
“That will be the case, yes.”
“Nathaniel, are you sure?”
He brushed a sweet, free strand of hair from her eyes. “One hundred percent.”
She tiptoed up as if she might kiss him and wrapped her arms about his neck. “I am yours forever, Nate Kenneth.”
“And I am forever yours.”
In all her born days, Susanna knew she never could have planned or even dreamed of such a night as this. From the moment she slipped on Granny’s dress for her “evening” with Nathaniel to the ceremony at Christ Church, everything was perfect.
Maybe beyond perfect because she had expected none of it.
Granny had rejoiced to see her walk down the aisle in her dress. When Susanna arrived at the end of the aisle, she bent to give her a kiss.
“I knew I couldn’t miss this wedding.” Granny raised her thin, weak hand to Susanna’s cheek. “You look prettier in that gown than I ever did.”
“And my granddaughter will look prettier than me.”
Granny kissed her cheek. “He’s a good one, that king. Keep hold of him.”
Now, sitting at their head table for two on the ocean side of the cottage’s garden, Susanna leaned against Nathaniel as Mickey, the Rib Shack’s Irish singer, serenaded them from a corner spot on the white stone-and-tile veranda.
The cottage garden was ablaze with clear lights swinging from the trees along with an array of Japanese lanterns hovering above the long pink-and-burgundy-covered tables with vases of white roses and lilies.
The breeze hustled past, dancing with the lights and lanterns, leaving behind a sweet, sea foam perfume.
“Happy?” Nathaniel draped his arm around the back of her chair as he whispered in her ear.
“I don’t have words,” she said, cupping his face in her hands. “I feel both proud and humbled. You made me happy. Not to mention Granny and Gracie. No small feat for any man to make three women happy in one night.”
He took her hand in his and brought it to his lips. “Remember when you sat on my veranda steps two years ago and stared out at this cottage’s dead, dry garden? You had no idea you were really gazing into my dead, dry heart. I saw weeds, but you saw possibilities and life. Not for this garden, but for me. You reminded me of who I was and am, and who really called me to be a king. God, not men.”
His sincere confession caressed her heart. “No, my heart was the dead one. Then you found me and said, ‘Design a garden for me.’ Sitting on those same steps, I saw possibility. For a garden, yes, but also for love.” She kissed him. “We made grass angels and you helped me off the ground—”
He laughed. “How could I forget? You tripped and fell into my arms. I never wanted to let you go.”
“I did that on purpose, you know.” She nuzzled her face against his, butterfly kissing his cheek.
“Sure you did.” He brushed his lips over hers. “I remember wanting to kiss you that day, very much.”
From the veranda stage the music changed. Nathaniel shoved back his chair, taking her hand. “May I have this dance?”
Susanna rose, the silk taffeta and tulle petticoat of her dress rustling past their chairs, the heels of her golden shoes striking a solid sound on the makeshift dance floor.
The guests, sitting at surrounding tables, applauded softly.
Nathaniel drew her into his arms and began an elegant waltz as the melody of the song rose higher and Mickey began to sing.
He is now to be among you at the calling of your hearts . . .
“The Wedding Song,” she whispered, a new wash of tears filling her eyes. “How did you know?”
“Oh, a little bird named Glo told me.”
Mama, sweet Mama. “A friend of theirs sang it at Daddy and Mama’s remarriage ceremony when I was twelve and so happy. My very divorced parents reconciled, remarried, and were giving me a baby sister.”
For whenever two or more of you are gathered in His name, there is love . . .
Susanna closed her eyes and rested against her husband—oh, she loved the sound of the word—as Mickey’s smooth melody confirmed . . . there is love.
When the song ended, a soft clanking arose from a table to the left, and Daddy made his way toward the dance floor, tapping his champagne glass with a fork. The sound technician passed him a microphone.
Nathaniel slipped his arms around Susanna, pressing her back to his chest.
“Well,” Daddy said, his voice rattling with emotion, as he smoothed his hand over his waistcoat and lean middle. He looked good. Strong and vibrant and fit from Mama’s strict diet. Susanna could almost erase her memory of him lying in the hospital bed weak from a heart attack at forty-eight. “Most of you have known Glo and me a long time. Therefore, you’ve known our Susanna, too. Queen Campbell and Prince Stephen, Prince Colin, Jonathan, the staff from Brighton, it’s good to have y’all here for this little shindig. I’d
like to thank everyone for their hard work in pulling off this surprise wedding.” Daddy swerved to face the royals, sitting among the Truitt, Vogt, and Franklin clans. “If y’all wondered what kind of man and king this fella here truly was, let me tell you, you’re sitting among his generous, kind heart right now. Not only was this spontaneous wedding his idea, he put boots on the ground to make it happen. Put his money where his mouth is, and y’all know how we like those who do as much as they say. And you know why he did it?” Daddy stepped toward them. “For this beautiful girl here. Our Susanna.” His voice quivered, breaking down. “’Cause he loves her that much.”
Susanna trembled, feeling the love in her daddy’s confession. It was watching him grow in his faith and in his love for Mama that repaired most of her childhood fears.
“Suz, you’re about the best girl anyone would ever want to know. Well, you and my girl Avery. And I mean that, kitten. Y’all are probably thinking I’m saying that ’cause she’s my daughter, and if so, well, you’re right.”
A merry laugh rippled among the guests and Nathaniel sweetened her temple with a kiss.
“But I know it because I’ve watched her. She’s loyal, almost to a fault. She loves people. Genuinely. But watch out now, ’cause if you take advantage of her she’ll give you the dickens for it. She encourages folk. But she won’t tickle your ears. She’ll tell you the truth in a way you can swallow it. When she was born, Glo and I felt sure God sent us an angel straight from heaven. She never cried ’cept when she was hungry. But then as a little girl, she didn’t have it so good. As much as we loved her, Glo and I didn’t love each other well and we fought. A lot. Couple of kids we were.” Daddy wiped under his eyes with his finger. “And Susanna,”—he cleared his throat with a deep cough—“would hide out in her closet, pretending it was her secret garden because she didn’t know if our anger was ever going to spill over on her. So I guess it’s fitting that today her wedding and reception are in a garden.” Sniffles rippled up from the tables and through the air. “Suz, you found true love and I pray that your marriage will always be the safest garden you can ever find. Nate, son, see to it that my little girl is always at home in your palace and in your arms, hear me? ’Cause I think a girl’s daddy trumps a king any day, and if I hear of you doing anything to hurt my girl, I’ll hop on over to Brighton and take you out back for a discussion.”
A March Bride (A Year of Weddings Novella) Page 8