Persuasion, Captain Wentworth and Cracklin' Cornbread

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Persuasion, Captain Wentworth and Cracklin' Cornbread Page 24

by Mary Jane Hathaway


  “I’m done here. I just need to get my gloves.” Lucy started to pull on the elbow-length gloves.

  “These remind me of my cotillion. Except I wasn’t pregnant, of course.”

  Lucy snorted. “My dress was such a giant poofball I had trouble getting in and out of the car.”

  “Who knew we’d put all that fancy training to work in an Austen wedding.” Shelby shook her head. “I’ve always told her she’s obsessed, but she never listened.”

  Caroline Ashley popped in, glancing around the room. Her blond updo was elegant and her blue-green eyes shone. The pale-blue of her dress made her seem like an ethereal ice princess, except her skin glowed with health. Lucy had known Caroline since high school, and they had more in common than most people would think. Their friendship was cemented after college, when they met over long lunches to bemoan the pressures of caring for their widowed parents while simultaneously being expected to marry as soon as possible. Caroline had married her own true love last summer, and Lucy had felt one more friendship subtly change as others moved onto the next stage in life. She didn’t want to be jealous and fought hard against it, but being in Caroline’s wedding had been bittersweet. They had been ­comrades-in-arms and now Lucy felt as if she’d been left on the battlefield alone.

  “Lucy, you say pink isn’t your color, but you look gorgeous in anything,” Caroline said. She reached over and gave Lucy a tight squeeze.

  “Thank you. But I think anyone can pull off a Regency gown.” Lucy adjusted a curl at Caroline’s temple.

  “We only have about five more minutes,” Shelby said, checking her watch.

  “Everyone looks perfect.” Caroline sighed, smiling. “Oh, Shelby, you are just beautiful. That baby bump is precious.”

  “It’s not a bump. It’s a dorm-room-sized beanbag.” She caressed her front. “If I was nice and tall like you, I would probably have a perfect little basketball.”

  “Don’t count on it. My cousin Debbie Mae is only five months along and she looks like she’s ready to pop,” Caroline said.

  Lucy watched this exchange and felt a sharp pain near her ribs. It was just hormones, just the biological clock ticking away, just being surrounded by married and pregnant women. But even as she told herself this, Lucy knew there was more to it. The more time she’d spent around Jem, the more she’d yearned for more. Now that they were almost friends, her dreams were about weddings and babies and little cottages with bright-green grass. Lucy forced herself back into the moment. It would be a shame to mope around Rebecca’s wedding because she was being a jealous cow.

  “Thank you for filling in, Caroline. I know Rebecca appreciates it,” Lucy said.

  “Not a problem. I’m glad I was in town and just the right size for the dress. I just feel terrible for her cousin. To get appendicitis and miss the wedding must be really awful.”

  “Hmm. I don’t want to get appendicitis or miss the wedding, but I would have liked a more flattering style,” said Shelby. “I feel like I’m wearing a tent.”

  “You’re perfect. Plus, it’s Rebecca’s day to shine. If she wants us all to wear tents in a rainbow of pastel colors, we will, just to make sure she has everything her little Austen-loving heart desires, right?” Caroline linked arms with the other two and walked them toward the foyer.

  “Right,” they both responded.

  Lucy stayed quiet as the girls whispered on the way down the hallway. They had dressed in a small group of rooms built on to the old church, and as they walked, Lucy noted the carved saints in every alcove they passed. She didn’t know who any of them were, but it gave her a sense of peace to think of so many who had come before, trying to live as honestly as possible, even unto death. She could see how Jem treasured this place, this history. She wondered for a moment what it would be like to attend services here. Would she be homesick for the community she’d grown up with? Or would it seem natural to be part of something so old?

  Lucy remembered Jem’s mama asking her where she went to church, and at the time it hadn’t meant much, but she understood now. If she had married Jem, they would have had to choose which church to attend. And when they had children, they would have had to bring them up in one tradition.

  She glanced at the stained-glass window that stretched the length of the hallway and wondered what all the symbols meant: keys and lions and quills and even a wagon wheel. She would have to learn it all. Maybe some people who attended services here didn’t know or didn’t care, but she would. She couldn’t ignore all the history around her.

  Lucy shook the thought from her head. Whether she would ever attend this church was a ridiculous thing to wonder about. All she was doing was walking down the aisle as bridesmaid, not taking her own vows. A second later, they turned the corner and saw the groomsmen lined up. Lucy’s gaze went straight to Jem. He was watching them walk down the long hallway and a smile grew on his lips. His gaze never left her face.

  She took in his blue morning coat, white vest, breeches and riding boots. He seemed at ease. The white cravat at his neck was tied in a simple knot, and his skin looked tan against it. When they were only a few feet apart, he stepped forward, blue eyes locked on hers. “You look beautiful.”

  “Why, thank you, Jem.”

  Shelby pretended to snag his elbow and lead him away. Lucy let out a soft snort. She had to agree that Jem was incredibly handsome, although Shelby’s husband, Ransom, was just as attractive. He stood in the corner, a bit of a frown on his face. He seemed just like the Darcy Lucy imagined when she thought of Jane Austen. His face softened as he looked at Shelby. She let go of Jem and stepped to his side, looking up with an expression of complete happiness. He gently wrapped an arm around her and rested his hand on her hip. “Feeling okay? Should I get you a chair?”

  “Just fine.” She stretched up on tiptoe and gave him a kiss.

  Lucy couldn’t help smiling, even though it was painful to see a couple so in love. They’d been married three years and acted as if their own wedding were yesterday.

  Caroline’s husband, Brooks, stepped into the foyer and grinned. “I’ve never seen a nicer-looking group of Austen characters, but I’m glad I get to play a civilian this time.”

  “But you’re so handsome in breeches.” Caroline pretended to pout.

  “You’ll have to do with plain old regular me.” He gave Caroline a kiss on the cheek. “I’m going to go sit down.” She waved him away and rolled her eyes at Lucy. “I wish I’d taken more pictures the one time we’d gotten him in costume. I’m afraid that was a once-in-a-lifetime party.”

  Lucy opened her mouth to respond, but stopped as someone handed her a small, ribbon-wrapped bouquet of wildflowers and pleasant-smelling greenery. She glanced up at Jem and felt her cheeks go hot. He gave her a slight smile, but didn’t speak. She hadn’t had a chance to talk with him alone since the Fourth of July party. The way he’d touched her cheek, the tender look on his face, it all spoke of a man who felt more for her than bitterness and regret. Lucy dropped her gaze to the flowers, feeling her heart beat in her chest. They were going to walk down the aisle and witness the exchange of wedding vows. She wished she knew where they stood, if their friendship was growing, or if she should be content with simply not being at war with him. She felt as if the air were pulsing with questions and she didn’t know where to start. He stayed silent beside her.

  The organist started to play and Lucy turned to see Rebecca behind them. Her eyes were already misting with tears but her smile was joyous. The Regency wedding gown was a hundred times more beautiful than the picture Lucy had seen and she put a hand to her chest. She drew in a shuddery breath.

  As if sensing her emotion, Jem took her hand, tucking it in his elbow and drew her close to his side. Lucy turned and focused ahead, straightening her shoulders. A lot of people cried at weddings, but Lucy had never been one of them. This was different. She felt tears pressing against her
eyes and she gripped Jem’s arm, willing herself to hold it together.

  He looked down at her and winked. “Our turn,” he said, and they began the slow march up the aisle.

  Lucy glimpsed the delighted expressions of the guests and knew the two of them looked like something out of an Austen movie. Well, at least Jem did. She giggled a little and cleared her throat.

  “Something funny?” he murmured out of the corner of his mouth.

  “Just thinking how you’re just like Captain Wentworth and I’m just like Tina Turner.”

  He let out a bark of laughter and quickly covered it with a cough. “Not sure who Wentworth is, but I can assure you that you’re not Tina Turner.”

  “Shoot. She has really nice legs.” Lucy couldn’t help smiling as they neared the front.

  “You have that in common.” They started to separate and he whispered, “See you on the flip side.”

  Lucy took her place in the line of bridesmaids and turned to see Rebecca coming down the aisle. Lucy’s heart swelled to see how happy Rebecca was, how the whole church had stood to welcome her. Lucy glanced at Tom, standing by the altar. His red hair was neatly combed and his face shone with happiness. She would never have believed the man in the Regency outfit was a computer programmer, but that was the beauty of Jane Austen. The most normal, run-of-the-mill person turned into someone noble and romantic. Her gaze slid to the right. Jem wasn’t watching Rebecca, he was watching her. His eyes were soft and his lips were touched by the slightest smile. She stared into his eyes, wishing she could ask the questions that were beating against her ribs, but was then so thankful that she couldn’t. For this moment, as they stood in the church to witness their friends pledging love and fidelity to death did them part, they were united. She was afraid that if they spoke at all, the spell would be broken and they would go back to being . . . whatever they were.

  Rebecca crossed Lucy’s vision and she turned away, still feeling Jem’s gaze on her. Lord, I never could have imagined anything about this moment. Your ways are mysterious and more than a little confusing. But thank you, for their love and for their joy. She glanced back and Jem had turned his attention to the priest. Whatever happened after this moment, she would be thankful. She’d been able to make amends to someone she’d hurt very much, and even if she never got her heart’s desire, that burden was lifted. She couldn’t ask for more.

  “ Time will explain.”

  —LADY RUSSELL

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Lucy gazed around at the freshly mown lawn at Rowan Oak, dotted with white tents and tiny lamps hung from the cedar trees. It was incredibly romantic and she thought she’d never seen a more beautiful setting for a reception. She caught Paulette’s eye and raised a hand in greeting. Her sister changed course and greeted her with the usual sort of criticism. “That was a real nice wedding, but I think those dresses are a bit much.”

  Lucy frowned at the gown, wondering how anybody could find fault with such an elegant creation. “You don’t think the men look silly? Just the women?”

  “Oh, the men look wonderful. Those breeches fit just perfectly.” Paulette gave her a sly grin. “But when I get married, Daddy says I can have it anywhere I want. I know he loves the—”

  “Paulette,” Lucy interrupted, grasping her hand. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Well, I suppose.”

  Lucy looked down at their fingers, intertwined. They were so similar. Lucy thought of their mama every day. Every time she cooked or picked out a dress or tried to keep their family from imploding, she hoped she was making her mama proud. Was Paulette so different just because she yearned for the approval of the parent who was still living?

  “Do you really want to get married or are you just doing what Daddy says?”

  For a moment, Paulette looked as if she were going to spit. But then her face slowly lost its fierceness and she seemed to crumple from the inside. She took several deep breaths and whispered, “He said he wants me to marry a successful man, someone he could do business with, but I don’t think he really cares what I do, not really.”

  Lucy gripped her sister’s hand tightly. Lucy knew how that felt. He never paid attention to her until she had the courage to step out of bounds, then he made it clear that good girls didn’t disagree with their father.

  “I think . . . I think he hasn’t cared about anything since Mama died,” Lucy said.

  Paulette’s eyes filled with tears. “I think we lost both of them that day.”

  Lucy reached out and hugged her sister tight. Paulette’s marrying someone wouldn’t make their daddy happy with her, and always being the perfect daughter wouldn’t make him happy with Lucy. She leaned back and looked her sister in the eyes. “I think we need to stop living for his approval.”

  “I don’t think I know how to live without it.” Paulette sounded small and lost.

  “I bet you do. I bet you’re stronger than you think you are.”

  Paulette shrugged. “And you? Are you finally going to tell him about Jem?”

  It took Lucy a moment to catch her breath. “What about Jem?”

  “Oh, Lucy, everybody can tell he’s in love with you.”

  She stepped back, putting a hand to her chest.

  Paulette gave her a little smile. “They say weddings always bring people together. Maybe you two can talk things through.” Then Paulette turned and walked toward the crowded refreshment table.

  Lucy stood stock-still, thoughts and feelings running over one another. She’d been so worried about Paulette’s making decisions just for their daddy’s approval, but maybe Lucy was just as guilty. She felt her heart pound in her chest. If it was right, if it was supposed to be, then she should be brave enough to be honest with Jem.

  It was time to tell him the truth.

  Jem stood in the corner and tried not to feel ridiculous. Rebecca had asked them to stay in their Regency costumes, but he was beginning to hate the pants tucked into the tops of his boots and the cravat that never seemed to stay straight. He would have paid big money to change into jeans and running shoes at that moment.

  “You look lonely.” Tom handed him a glass and cocked an eyebrow.

  “Not lonely,” Jem grunted.

  “Grumpy, then. I misinterpreted the scowl on your face.”

  Jem couldn’t help laughing a little. Tom always told it like it was, no honey-coating the reality. Sort of like Lucy. She didn’t gloss over the truth, either. If you asked her what she thought, she’d tell you. The only reason he was still in the dark on her feelings for him was that he was too afraid to ask.

  “And now it’s back,” Tom said.

  “What is?”

  “The scowl.” Tom pulled a long face.

  Jem rolled his eyes. “Stop harassing me and go back to your wife.”

  Tom jerked his chin toward a group of women near the refreshment table. “She’s busy lecturing the guests on flummery. I’m not needed. And plus, I’d rather stay here and bug you.”

  “Lucky me.”

  Tom moved to stand beside him and looked out over the guests. “Lucy looks particularly beautiful tonight.”

  Jem shot him a look. Lucy was talking to Paulette, and they seemed to be having a serious conversation. “She always does.”

  “When she dumped you in high school, I thought she was sort of a snob. She doesn’t seem anything like that now.”

  Jem sighed. “Sometimes I hate that we’ve known each other so long.”

  Tom looked surprised. “Old friends are the best, right?”

  “Not when they continually remind you of how things went wrong in the past and you’re trying to focus on the future.”

  “Oh, really?” A smile spread over Tom’s face. “You’re going to give it another try? Well, I wish you all the luck in the world. I know Rebecca thinks a lot of her.”

 
“That’s not quite what I meant.” It was true; Jem had been making a general statement. But watching Lucy, and seeing the emotions cross her face as she talked to Paulette, he knew that everything in him wanted to take that step, to see if they could start over. He swallowed hard. But he would have to find just the right moment to tell her.

  “Oh, my goodness, this is an Austen fan’s paradise.” A voice spoke from just behind her. Lucy turned and grinned as she saw Theresa Stroud.

  She stood back to look at Lucy’s dress. “You look beautiful, just beautiful.”

  “Thank you. I’m so glad you could make it to the reception. Have you had a chance to meet Rebecca?”

  “Just now she came right up to me and gave me a great big hug. She said she really appreciated my coming in costume, but I told her it was really my pleasure. It’s not every day we get to celebrate such a beautiful wedding, Austen style.”

  Lucy nodded. “It’s certainly not the normal Tupelo affair.” She glanced toward the open bar and saw Paulette putting in an order. Lucy repressed a sigh. She’d like to go to just one party without having to watch out for her younger sister. Turning her attention back to Theresa, she said, “You’re not wearing the same dress as before.”

  “No, I have quite a few.” Theresa blushed. “Okay, more than a few. But a woman must have a hobby, and if Jacob can have four Confederate uniforms, then I can have a few Regency gowns.”

  Lucy had to smile. The older couple seemed to get along so well, generously allowing space in their marriage for separate passions and hobbies. Her thoughts went to Jem, and his river-rafting friends. Would she mind if he went away for a week at a time? Would he invite her along? And the next moment she reminded herself that she and Jem were not Theresa and Dr. Stroud. But maybe someday they could be. She had the feeling of perching on the edge of a cliff, not sure which way was the safest and not sure whether she wanted to be safe at all.

 

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