by Amanda Ward
Alice looked satisfied. She smiled warmly. “You look beautiful, just like a countess. My work is done.” She curtseyed. “Enjoy the evening Miss Laura,” and held the door open.
“Thank you ever so much. Alice,” Laura said with warm appreciation as she left the bedroom, and walked toward the stairs.
At the bottom of the staircase, Rhean paced the hallway, running his finger around the collar of his black tuxedo. It felt uncomfortably tight, and every few moments his gaze drifted toward the curved wooden stairs. His pacing increased, as did the clenching and un-clenching of his hands. Rhean felt tormented about Laura’s possible reaction. Would she say no? Would she run? After he’d paced some more, Graham walked up to Rhean and offered him a crystal tumbler of whiskey.
“For your nerves, Master Rhean,” Graham announced formally.
Rhean rolled his eyes at the butler’s imperious tone, took the drink and winced as the alcohol burned going down his throat, but it gave him something else to think about for a moment. After he finished the drink, Rhean resumed his pacing, and felt in his pocket for the two rings inside. His hand closed around them, willing them to give him the strength and courage he desperately needed.
“Ahem.” Graham gave a discreet cough from where he stood. Rhean immediately turned to the staircase. His felt his breath taken away by the vision that glided toward him and for a moment, he forgot his own name. Covered from head to toe in ivory silk and sparkling heirloom gems, Laura appeared radiant and incredibly beautiful. Taking a desperately needed deep breath as she came down the final steps, Rhean tightened his fist around the rings and walked toward her.
Laura smiled shyly at him, and held her hand out to him. “Well?” she asked, twirling around, letting the chiffon cape billow and flow around her.
Rhean swallowed once, then twice more. His mouth felt dry and the words would not come. Instead, he said what was in his heart. “You look beautiful, amazing, dazzling. You take my breath away,” he said when he was able to speak.
Laura just smiled. “I have no idea how your mother knew my size. All I can say is that she’s a miracle worker. I know now how Eliza Doolittle felt,” she laughed.
Rhean tried to smile. His collar felt tight again, and he ran his fingers around it for the umpteenth time.
“Where is everyone?” Laura asked. “Am I the first one down?” Her eyes darted around, probably looking for her children and other members of the family. The hall was bereft, yet beautifully decorated in gold, green and red, giving it a festive, yet elegant feel. The scent of apples, mulled wine and cinnamon filled the air.
“Laura...” Rhean started to speak, his gaze never leaving her as she walked around. He took her hand and led her back toward the stairs.
“Rhean, what on earth is the matter?” Laura asked.
There was no turning back—not now. Rhean decided to take the bull by the horns and ask her straight out before his courage left him.
“Laura, marry me.” Rhean knelt down in front of her, taking both her hands into his.
“I will, on New Year’s Eve,” she replied,
He shook his head. “No, I mean now, this minute.” Holding her gaze, his eyes begged her to say yes.
“What do you mean, now?” Laura tried to pull her hands away from him but Rhean held on tighter. She trembled so much her hands shook.
“I love you Laura, and I just can’t wait anymore.” He was earnest now, pleading, begging her to say yes. The usual confidence that carried him this far, left him.
“I know how much a big wedding makes you nervous, so I thought we could get married in the chapel tonight, with just our family in attendance.”
Chapter Thirteen
Laura could see the merits in it. With him she felt safe. She knew he loved her, but was her friendship enough? Could it develop into a deeper love? Seeing him pace around the hallway, looking so handsome in his black tux, her breath hitched in her throat. She was attracted to him, and yes, she’d thought of making love with him, and spending her life with him. But get married now? Would this friendship lead into love? Or was she leading him down a path where heartbreak could be the victor? It seemed as if for so long she prevaricated about their relationship and now she had to make that decision one way or another. Laura looked down at her dress and the jewels she wore, and thought about how Rhean treated her. It all finally clicked into place and she knew for certain what her answer would be.
“You mean this dress is my wedding gown?” she asked. Rhean nodded his expression hopeful.
“What will you do if I refuse?” Laura asked, looking at the highly polished wooden floor, afraid to see the reaction in Rhean’s eyes.
“Well, the ball will just go ahead as planned, and we will get married later, as planned—I hope,” he replied.
Laura felt conflicted. She knew that marriage was a big step. Her previous one had been a lie from the very start. But Rhean was always blatantly honest with her. The big wedding planned for later that month was not what she wanted. This smaller, intimate service would be perfect, and she didn’t like to hurt anyone. They had gone to so much trouble for her, Laura thought. The look on Rhean’s face because she hadn’t told him yes straightaway pained her so much.
“Yes,” Laura said. Rhean turned around to face her. His face split into a wide grin, and his dark blue eyes sparkled with happiness.
“Really? You’ll marry me now?”
“Yes, yes, yes,” Laura said out loud. “Is that clear enough for you? She laughed in relief at seeing him so happy.
“It will never be clear enough,” he replied afterward. Looking over at Graham, Rhean asked,”Did you hear that?”
“Indeed I did, sir. I shall go to the chapel now and inform them,” Graham said in his formal voice. He bowed, left them, and strode through the house.
Holding out his arm toward her, Rhean bowed in a formal fashion.
“My darling Laura, shall we be wed this eve?” he asked her gallantly. Smiling at him and loving the whimsy, Laura curtseyed in return and put her arm through his.
“Indeed we shall.” She grinned, and together they walked through the myriad of corridors toward the family chapel.
As they approached the heavy wooden door, Rhean turned to Laura.
“Would you like for your father to walk you up the aisle, or shall we walk in together?” he asked.
Laura thought for a moment.
“I’ll walk with Dad, if you don’t mind. Let’s try and keep one tradition,” she said and smiled at him.
Rhean kissed her on the cheek.
“I’ll be waiting,” he told her. Opening the heavy door, he walked through it.
Left alone for what seemed like ages, but was in fact only minutes, Laura felt the sudden urge to flee, to run. Butterflies fluttered around in her stomach. Panic began to well inside her. She looked around and her gaze was drawn to a picture on the wall of a woman wearing the same dress and jewels. It was Lady Clarissa who stood in exactly the same place as Laura. Her husband’s arm was around her, and looking carefully, she could see the rose petals floated around them, painted so intricately. Their wedding portrait, Laura thought. Her stomach settled just as she heard the creak of the door behind her.
“Ready Laura?” her father asked. He was dressed elegantly in a dark gray suit with a boutonniere of holly and mistletoe in his lapel. “I’m sorry darling, but I won’t wear a monkey suit,” he joked, making his daughter laugh despite the seriousness of the occasion.
He held the door open and Laura walked through the door into the small chapel.
The chapel was bathed in the mellow glow of candlelight. The sound of a harp playing the soft strains of Pachelbel’s Canon, filled the air. It was romantic, elegant, and well-planned. Laura’s heart ached for Rhean had she said no. The arch-shaped stained glass window with images of Christ and his disciples flickered as the candles danced. The six rows of small oak pews along the short aisle were filled with family and members of staff. Rhean, her children and h
is sisters waited for her at the front with the window behind them. Maisie wore a holly-red long satin dress and she carried small posy of cream roses. Rhean’s sisters wore deep red versions. James and Theo in tuxedos stood beside Rhean. They looked so grown-up, tears threatened Laura’s eyes.
Picking up her long skirt, Moira hurried down the aisle and picked up a small bouquet of red roses with crystals surrounding it. She handed it to Laura and kissed her cheek.
“Here. This is from Rhean,” she whispered in Laura’s ear. Laura bit her lip, and tried not to cry. He had thought of everything. I really don’t deserve all this, Laura thought.
“Want me to walk in front of you?” Moira asked, as she pressed a lace handkerchief into Laura’s hand.
“Please.” Laura found it hard to speak. The ambiance of the wedding imprinted on her soul and it was all she could do, not to run up the aisle to Rhean. Laura knew, however, that she would need to wait a few moments longer.
After she’d hugged her tightly, Moira stepped away and gave a ʻthumbs up.ʼ The music changed to ʼJesu Joy of Man’s Desiring.ʼ Laura and her father walked slowly up the small aisle and the lilting music stirred her soul. Staring in front of her, all Laura could see was Rhean, and his love for her was evident in his aristocratic face.
Rhean held his hand out as Laura came close, and enclosed hers in his. Together, they faced the vicar. Laura would treasure the moments that followed always. She said her vows in a clear, confident voice, despite her emotions bubbling away under the surface. As Rhean placed the wide rose gold ring on her finger, tears fell from Laura’s eyes, Rhean wiped them gently away. No hymns were sung during the service. The harp music continued to play softly in the background adding to the romance and intimacy of the occasion. When the vicar pronounced them husband and wife, Laura heard a quiet round of applause. Gathering her into his arms, Rhean held Laura snugly. Parting her lips, she raised herself to meet his kiss. A gentle kiss, full of dreamy intimacy. Rhean let out a whoop of pleasure swinging Laura around in circle, her chiffon cape billowing around them. Laura grasped his arm, feeling dizzy as they walked down the aisle to quiet applause as rose petals rained down on them.
Thoroughly romantic, totally emotional and incredibly intimate, Laura loved every moment of the service. Walking out the door as husband and wife, she turned to him, reached up and kissed her husband. Impulsively, her tongue slipped inside his mouth and entwined with his. Their breaths mingled.
Brimming over with the emotion of the occasion, with Laura snuggled against him. Rhean held her hand tight. She caught sight of his wedding glinting on his finger, finally admitting to herself that this was all very real, and that she was in fact married.
As they walked past the portrait of Lady Clarissa and her earl, Rhean whispered in Laura’s ear.
“I knew her wedding dress was meant for you.”
Laura stopped, looked at her dress, and then back at the portrait.
“You mean this is the actual dress she wore in the portrait?” When Rhean nodded, Laura could not believe she was wearing something so delicate and priceless.
“But how on earth did you..?” her question trailed off as Rhean’s arms held her tight.
“It had been restored for an exhibition a few months ago. Mum simply worked her magic.
As they walked past the portrait, Laura thought she could feel the approval from Lady Clarissa which warmed her heart.
Graham held a silver tray with two glasses of champagne to celebrate. As Rhean and Laura walked through into the great hall, another round of applause greeted them. Laura blushed as Rhean kissed her on the cheek and held her left hand up high. They took the glasses and clinked them together. There were flashes as photographs were taken by Theo who deemed himself ‘official’ photographer. Rhean leaned down and kissed Laura again.
“On behalf of the staff at Kirkleigh Grange, I would like to wish Master Rhean and Miss Laura all the happiness in the world,” Graham announced formally. Laura could not resist—she kissed the faithful retainer on the cheek and hugged him warmly.
“Thank you,” she whispered. Graham returned the hug and gallantly kissed Laura’s left hand.
“You are welcome, Lady Kirkleigh,” he replied formally, and winked at her. Her new name echoed around the great hall. Rhean came over and put his arm around his wife. The sounds of laughter and footsteps echoed around the room as the rest of the family entered for drinks.
Champagne and soft drinks were served amidst much talking and laughter. Laura was kissed and hugged by everyone. Special hugs and admonishments were saved for her children.
“Okay, how did you keep this secret?” Laura asked her children. “Spill,” she told them in a firm voice.
Theo looked at his siblings and shrugged his shoulders before he took another photograph.
“Not sure. It’s the first time we’ve ever been able to keep something from you, Mum,” he replied and hugged her again. “On behalf of all us kids, congrats Mum. We couldn’t have asked for a better dad,” he said sincerely.
Tears welled up in Laura’s eyes.
“You all look so grown-up and those dresses are beautiful,” she said, and tears fell unashamedly from her eyes. She wiped them with Moira’s handkerchief, and took a deep breath then found herself encompassed in Maire’s arms. When she looked up, her children had disappeared in different directions.
“Welcome to the family, me darling,” the countess said. Her Irish accent was broad with alcohol and emotion.”What a wonderful ceremony,” she told Laura and dabbed her eyes.
Adorned in a long ball gown of emerald green that flattered her ample figure and glittering with emeralds and diamonds, Laura’s new mother in law mother-in-law was the epitome of elegance, yet retained her humble roots. An emerald and diamond tiara took pride of place in her hair giving her height and stature.
“Thank you,” Laura whispered. Rhean’s arm was still around her, as though reluctant to let go of his wife for even a second.
“T’was a lovely service,” she said. “Reminded me of the garden where Hugo and I were married,”
“How?” Laura asked.
“Just that we had family there,” Maire told Laura, “Small and intimate. Just the way we wanted and should be.” She smiled and held up her glass of whiskey. “Ach, ʼtis a celebration. Time to enjoy,” she said and downed the contents in one hit. “Graham,” the Countess called.
“Yes ma’am,” Graham answered, as he appeared at her side.
“Another whiskey please and let’s get the ball rolling,” the Countess told him. Graham nodded, signaled for a waiter and went to the front door. They mingled with the guests, all residents of Kirkleigh, and drank champagne.
Eventually a loud gong sounded. Graham announced in a loud, formal voice, “Pray be silenced for His Lordship the Earl of Leighton,” and all went quiet.
Hugo moved toward the roaring fireplace of the great hall, his arm around Maire.
“I would like to thank every one of you for coming tonight,” he began in his clear, Etonian manner. “Before the buffet is served, I have an announcement to make.” There was a slight pause. “My eldest son, Rhean, the Viscount Kirkleigh, was married this evening to Mrs. Laura Simmons.”
Murmurs went round the great hall. Waiters and waitresses mingled among the guests, handing out glasses of champagne and orange juice.
“I would like to propose a toast, to my son and his wife. Long life and happiness. To Viscount and Viscountess Kirkleigh. To Rhean and his beautiful wife, Laura,” Hugo said pride evident in his voice.
Glasses clinked around the Hall. Rhean kissed his wife of one hour soundly on the lips as they entwined hands and drank deeply of their champagne.
Maire took over.
“I now declare that dinner is served,” she said dramatically holding up her glass of Irish whiskey. As if she were gliding, Maire sidled up to Laura, and sent Rhean off to get his wife something to eat. “Ach, champagne, never touch the stuff,” she confided. “Giv
e me a drop of the Irish anytime.” Laura laughed at her mother-in-law and choked on her sip of vintage champagne. “I’m surprised Rhean hasn’t taken you upstairs yet or whisked you away to the cottage,” Maire confided and went off in a cloud of Anais Anais.
Rhean moved in closer and whispered in her ear.
“Now that sounds like a great idea,” he murmured. Laura flushed bright red.
Rhean disappeared for a few moments, leaving Laura to accept compliments from other guests.
The small string quartet hired for the event, played seasonal music. When Rhean came back to her, smiling the music changed to When You Say Nothing At All. He drew his wife into his arms and mindless of all eyes on them, they swayed in time together. When the music finished, he lifted Laura’s left hand to his lips and bowed, kissing her hand gallantly. Again, Laura’s cheeks colored red and prickles of desire flowed through her body.
Her husband’s impatience to be alone with his bride was endearing and she could understand why. Handing her a plate with her favorite foods, Rhean led her through the hall to a festive table where they sat down to eat. After they downed one more glass each of champagne, Rhean took her hand.
“It’s time to go, milady.” Laura nodded, and drained her glass. Rhean stood up, and signaled to his father.
“What about the children?” Laura asked as she wondered what was going on.
“They will stay here for a few days,” Rhean told her, “to give us some time on our own.” Laura’s mouth made an ʻO,ʼ and butterflies flew around in her stomach again. Combined with the alcohol and nerves from earlier on, making love with Rhean scared her witless. What if she disappointed him? What if her body with all its faults turned him off? Laura panicked. Goosebumps appeared on her arms under the chiffon cape she still wore..
“Look, please don’t worry. What happens between us is meant to be,” he said in a smooth voice. “If anything, at least you’ve done this before,” he continued, then winced when he saw Laura’s eyes widen.