Fresh air would help, she decided, and a walk outside. She left the room, leaving Lukas staring at the pile of precisely stacked papers.
Chapter Eight
By evening, the entire house bubbled with excitement over news of the engagement. Lexy felt no such merriment and knew Lukas didn’t either. Like most of her friends, she’d often thought of her future husband and their engagement. But it’d be a lie to think those thoughts ever included a moody English lord and a forced marriage.
“The servants are quite mad,” Lukas said at the dinner table. “It is merely a wedding.”
“Weddings should be happy occassions,” Lexy said. She had no appetite and though she didn’t feel overly happy, she did feel arguementative.
“According to who?”
“Everyone.” She stared across the table at him, silently daring him to fight back.
“Everyone in the century you lived in or those of us confined to this one?”
“I fail to see how the century matters.”
“I fail to see why we should celebrate the fact that we are both playing into my father’s hand.”
Am I that horrible? She wanted to ask. Her more reasonable mind knew not to take it personally. It wasn’t as if she was overly thrilled to be marrying him either. “Look at it this way, it brings us closer to our goal.”
“Ah, yes. That makes it so much better.”
“That’s me. Always looking on the bright side.”
“Mayhap you can look on the bright side of this,” he said, standing and leaving the dinning room.
“Yup, there it is. Your head isn’t blocking the lovely tapestry on the wall anymore. Bright side!”
“My lady. Please.” Ebbe had been so quiet, she’d forgotten he was in the room.
“Sorry. Maybe, one day, I’ll be able to talk to him without arguing.”
“Sometimes I fear I made the wrong decision agreeing to this match.”
“Only sometimes?”
Her answer was a shake of his head.
“I was thinking,” she said, deciding to change the subject. “Tomorrow’s Sunday. Is there a local church I can go to?”
“I think it best to wait until after you and Reynard wed.”
While she wanted to argue with Lukas, she didn’t feel the same toward Ebbe. Besides, he knew the risks more than she did. He would never refuse her without good reason.
****
Sunday afternoon, Ebbe found her in Culberton’s garden. With an expressionless face, he told her the minister and lawyer had been contacted, and the wedding would be held on Friday. While surprised at how quickly everything was coming together, she knew it was due to Culberton’s connections and did her best to push the entire thing from her mind.
By Monday afternoon the marriage contract had been drawn up and signed. She’d tried to read it, but soon discovered legal jargon in the sixteenth century made as much sense to her as it had in the twenty-first. Fortunately, she trusted Ebbe with her life.
Lukas appeared only at mealtimes. She hoped to talk with him alone, but he showed little interest in spending time with his new fiancée.
Tuesday afternoon she found him in his father’s study. He reluctantly agreed to go outside with her.
They walked unchaperoned through the garden, talking of inconsequential matters before the conversation shifted to the upcoming wedding.
“Will your older brother come?” she asked, matching his long stride step for step. He walked close but had not offered his arm. It didn’t bother her. She didn’t need further reminders of their upcoming intimacy.
“I doubt the Marquess of Montaclaire has heard of my upcoming nuptials. Even if he has, and wanted to attend, timing would not allow.” He seemed unaffected by the revelation, as if such behavior between siblings was normal. She wondered if his older brother inherited his father’s personality. Perhaps it was for the best only two Reynard men attended the wedding after all.
“Your older brother is a marquess?” she asked, deciding to change the subject to something safer.
He looked as if she’d grown horns. “Yes. It is the courtesy title he will hold until he inherits the dukedom from our father.”
“I didn’t know there were so many titles to throw around. Who becomes marquess after your brother becomes duke?”
“His eldest son, born two years ago.” He stopped walking and turned to face her. “Does my lack of title pose a problem for you in this marriage?”
She almost laughed before realizing he was serious. Her problems with the marriage were so numerous, she doubted all the paper in Hullington could hold them. At least in this she could speak the truth. “No, I never even thought about your title, or lack thereof. Remember, I come from a different place altogether. One without such trappings.”
He watched her as if trying to decide if she spoke the truth. “Such ‘trappings’ are important in this time.”
She shrugged. “It’s just an earthly name. Your worth to me isn’t based on a title you may or may not have been born with.”
“Upon what is it based then?”
She touched his heart. “This,” she said, looking in his eyes. “This is what matters. You are a soul, Lukas, an eternal soul and a child of God. All the rest is meaningless.”
“You are most peculiar, Princess Alexia.”
****
Upon hearing of Lady Anne’s arrival on Wednesday, Lexy dropped the flowers she’d been cutting and ran to the guest room, startling a servant with her mad dash up the stairs.
“Lady Anne!” she exclaimed breathless, wrapping her arms around her aunt. “I’m so glad you were able to come.”
Lady Anne’s voice held a smile. “The news of your wedding came as quite a surprise.”
“To you and me both.” She laughed, pulling back.
Her aunt’s voice dropped. “Like that is it?”
Holding hands, they moved to a cushioned couch in the expansive sitting room. “I’d be lying to say differently. I’ve been thinking about my mother’s attitude a lot the last week. What she said about it being her duty to marry the man her father decided upon. My father’s not here, but this is something I have to do to help restore what he spent years building.”
Lady Anne squeezed her hand, her eyes dancing with a merry gleam. “You are a good girl, Princess Lexy. I have not spent much time with your Lord Lukas, but I sense he is a good match for you. You may not want this now, but things have a way of working out.”
“I’ll hold you to that.” She pulled her hand from her aunt’s warm grip, uneasy at the prediction given.
“Come here. I have something for you.”
Lexy followed her aunt to the dressing room and watched her shuffle through the closet full of clothing. Gracious, she thought, how many dresses did she bring? Lady Anne found what she’d searched for and carried it to the bed. Lexy tried to peek over her aunt’s shoulder, but the woman was too tall.
“Before Severon came to Dresdonia, when it became certain he would come, your mother sent some items to me. One of the things she sent was her wedding dress.” Lady Anne moved out of the way, and Lexy gasped at the gown spread out before her.
Fit for a queen, ran through her mind as she studied it. Made of a delicate pink silk with tiny crystals and seed pearls sown through with golden thread, it sparkled in the light. She brushed her finger along the neckline.
“I am aware it is over thirty years old and the neckline lower than what is in fashion.” Lady Anne’s mouth lifted just a bit. “Although knowing your feelings for present necklines, I thought it not so much of a problem. I would not want you to feel any obligation to wear the gown, I thought only to bring it for your consideration.”
“I’d be honored to wear my mother’s gown on Friday. It’s exquisite. Thank you.”
And black goes with anything, she thought, guessing what color Lukas would wear.
****
News of the Duke of Culberton’s return came on Thursday afternoon. Lexy had be
en waiting for it, wondering if he would attend the wedding or if business would keep him away. With his adamant demand the wedding take place, she thought it a certainty he would return in time.
Cutting it close, Culberton.
Finding him in his study with Ebbe and Lukas after dinner, she knocked at the open door and entered.
“Culberton,” she addressed him, sinking into a deep curtsy. Lukas had told her not to do it, but it seemed prudent to start the conversation off on the right foot.
Culberton eyed her with caution, as if expecting another outburst. “Princess Lexy. Or should I say, daughter?”
She ignored his comment. “How nice you were able to return to Hullington in time for the wedding tomorrow.”
“I cannot fathom missing it.”
“Lukas is fortunate to have such an attentive father.” She kept her gaze on Culberton, not trusting herself to look at Lukas.
“I took the liberty of procuring a small cottage for you and Lukas to occupy for a few days following your wedding.”
She dipped her head to hide her flushed face, but peeked up. “That is most gracious of you.”
Culberton looked from her to Lukas and back again, shock on his face.
She noticed the pitcher on the table in front of the men and reached for a cup. “Shall I pour you some refreshment?”
He shook his head, unable to speak. Someone, Lukas, she presumed, choked on his own drink.
“It looks like we’ll have a beautiful day for the wedding. Especially if today is any indication.” Culberton remained silent, so she continued. “Why it’s almost as if God Himself is smiling on the joining of our families!”
“Eh?” her soon-to-be Father-in-law said in way of reply.
She walked to the door. “I imagine you men have business to attend to, so I’ll get out of your way.” When she peeked over her shoulder, the three men sat, all with mouths agape. “I’ll see you at supper.”
She made her way out of the room, giggling to herself and had just reached the stairs when she heard someone behind her.
“Princess Alexia!”
Lukas.
She stopped, one foot on the first step, and turned.
He hurried to where she stood and stopped, hands on hips. “What was that?”
“What was what?”
“That…that interlude with my father. What was that about?”
“I was just talking to him.”
“I am fortunate to have such an attentive father? Serving him refreshment? God is smiling?” He repeated her words as though to shock her with them.
“Haven’t you ever heard that you catch more flies with honey than vinegar?”
“No, but,” he said, waving his hand in dismissal, “they are still flies.”
“No Lukas, it’s your father. And by this time tomorrow, he’ll be my father-in-law.” She turned and walked up the stairs, leaving him at the bottom, open-mouthed once again.
Chapter Nine
She woke little by little to the peaceful pre-dawn of morning, surprised to find she’d slept at all. The house was silent. She lay unmoving, not wanting to disturb the sacred stillness. It would be a waste of time to try to go back to sleep. Sleep wouldn’t come. Not that morning.
She stretched beneath the cool, white sheets and acknowledged the inevitable. It was her wedding day. By day’s end, she’d be married to Lukas. The next time she woke, she’d be a wife, sharing a bed and—
Well, perhaps she could deny the inevitable just a bit longer.
The first soft rays of morning sun streamed through the window, just touching her bed. There was time before anyone came looking for her. She swung her legs over the side and grabbed her robe. Or a wrapper, as Margaret called it. If she went out right then, she’d make it back before Margaret brought breakfast.
There had been a time when she’d gone for early morning walks on a regular basis. In college it’d been a habit started by Cara. Breathing in the moist, heavy air, Lexy was filled with longing for her dear friend. Cara should be standing with her on her wedding day, the way they planned years ago.
Walking around a large oak tree, she almost ran into Lukas.
“Oops. Sorry,” she said, stopping short and putting out a hand to catch her balance.
He stood wrapped in a black cloak, obviously returning to the house from his own early morning walk. She hid a smile. Maybe he’d been denying the inevitable as well.
“My lady.” He nodded. His hair hung loose around his face, framing the strong, angular jaw. Two full lips tightened into a firm line.
“This can’t be good,” she joked, nervous energy bubbling up. “It’s supposed to be bad luck for the bride and groom to see each other before the wedding. I bet you were outside wanting time to yourself and here I come almost running you over. Probably the last person you wanted to see.”
He didn’t deny it.
“Let’s just forget it happened. You go back inside, and I’ll come in a few minutes. No one has to know.” She must be nervous—she was babbling. She hated it when she babbled. “See you at the church. I’ll be the one up front in the fancy dress.”
He didn’t return the smile. No surprise there. He never smiled, why would his wedding day be any different? Turning, she moved to continue her walk.
“I beg you.”
His words were raw, tinged with an urgency that chilled her blood. She spun to face him.
“I beg you,” he repeated. “Cease this madness now. Before it becomes too late.”
He was afraid.
But it made no sense. He had no reason to be afraid. “The wedding?” she asked.
He gave a curt nod.
“I can’t. I don’t have a choice.”
“Nor do I.”
She left quietly, not looking back, shaken to the core. Behind her came an explosive noise sounding suspiciously like someone hitting a tree.
****
It was a dream, she decided while eating breakfast in her room. That Lukas would beg her to call off the wedding made no sense. Besides, if she could have called the wedding off, she’d have done it long before. She didn’t have a choice.
Margaret and Lady Anne scurried into her room, ready to help her dress. She put her spoon down and stood. No more time to think about walking dreams. There was a wedding to prepare for.
For the most part, she allowed the women to do as they wished. But when Margaret mentioned the need to wear her hair down, Lexy spoke her mind.
“I can’t wear my hair down. Lukas hates it down. You have to put it up.” For once her arguments had no effect on Margaret. Lexy scowled, imagining the horrid things Lukas would say when he saw her hair.
“Begging your pardon, Your Highness,” a young servant girl clearing the breakfast tray said in hushed tones, refusing to met her gaze. “Lord Lukas won’t be looking at your hair. Not in that dress.” She curtsied and walked out.
Lexy ran her hands down the side of the dress, almost agreeing with the girl. As splendid as it appeared lying on the bed, it was even more gorgeous on. Would it be enough to cover the disgrace of her short hair?
“Thank you, Mary,” Margaret said even though the servant had left. “Now if you’ll let me dress your hair, my lady, we’ll see if I can’t make Lord Lukas change his mind.”
She sat back down in the chair, content to let Margaret do what she would. Perhaps if Lukas hated her hair, he’d be too polite to mention it on their wedding day.
Looking in the mirror an hour later, she decided Margaret might have done the impossible. Her newly-curled hair fell in ringlets around her face, and the fresh-cut flowers placed here and there matched the color of her gown. A long, white lace veil hung down her back, completing the transformation.
“Margaret …wow…it looks…wow,” Lexy stammered, looking into the mirror, turning her head from side to side to see it all.
“Um hum. You can thank me later when your groom has the same opinion.” Margaret winked and took the mirror from her. “W
e need to go now. His Grace has the carriage waiting outside.”
Lexy’s elation lasted for mere seconds before she realized the time for her wedding had arrived. Holding her head high, she walked toward the stairs just as the distant church bells began to ring. “’Do not ask for whom the bell tolls, it tolls for thee,’” she muttered to herself, finding Donne’s words oddly appropriate. A nervous giggle broke through. Had Donne even been born yet?
In the twenty-first century, the mile-and-a-half ride to the church would have been over before it started. But by horse-drawn carriage it stretched out, allowing her too much time to think. She fingered the trimming on her gown and tried to take deep breaths. How could she be sweating with the temperature so cool?
Ebbe rode beside her. With no father to give her away, she had asked him to do the honors. She thought him particularly handsome in a dove gray suit that accented his silvery hair. She glanced at him, giving a nervous smile. What was he thinking? Did he fear what her father would have thought? He’d given no hint of disapproval concerning her wedding. Did that mean he blessed it?
As the carriage made its way into the churchyard, a group of trumpeters and drummers began playing. Two young girls with garlands of fresh flowers approached the carriage when it came to a stop.
Ebbe pulled her aside before the coachman came to help her out. “You and I will head into the church after the young ladies and musicians. Reynard will be at the front waiting for you.”
Waiting for you. The words rang in her ears. Ebbe held his arm out to her, and together they walked to the church. Lexy straightened her shoulders and took a deep breath. Oh Lord, I can’t do this!
The first thing she noticed as she stepped inside was the number of people. She’d expected a handful of witnesses, but the pews were packed. Strangers shifted and moved around to stare at her. Who were they and where had they come from? But before she could contemplate further, her glance went to the front, and she lost all interest in the people surrounding her. Her attention focused on her waiting groom alone.
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