An Unsuitable Match

by Glint, Chloe

  "I suppose that's good advice," Kale said. And he might just take it too. It would be better than looking up and realizing that he was marrying the world's most radiant creature.

  "Of course it is." His father clapped him on the shoulder so hard his knees buckled. "Now man up, boy. You're getting married today."

  After nodding in determination, Kale frowned, still stunned his father had offered him kindly advice.

  ****

  Camille stood in front of the mirror, deep in thought. She was still in her rose colored nightgown. Suddenly, she felt self-conscious. She could not believe that today was her wedding day. A bead of sweat ran down her forehead at the thought of what was to come today. Her whole life was going to change. A slow smile crossed her lips. Maybe a change was what she needed after all. She would no longer have to deal with her mother's nagging or her father's disappointed looks.

  She grinned and headed for the door to her sister's room. When she came inside, she saw that her mother was already there, speaking to Gabrielle. Gabrielle nodded at her.

  "Today's the day, huh?" Gabrielle said.

  "Yes." Camille nodded.

  "Are you sure you want to do this?" Gabrielle frowned. "Your future husband is so clumsy. He shouted at me and doused me with water. It was a horrifying meeting."

  The words gave her a bitter taste in her mouth. Normally, Gabrielle settled for complaining about her own suitors, but Camille didn't want her sister to start speaking badly of the man she was to marry.

  "Don't speak of Kale in such a way," Camille said. "He's a good man. Likely he was just nervous. How would you feel if you were meeting your bride's family for the first time?"

  Since the two of them never fought, her sister clammed up and spoke no more. Her mother gave her an approving look, which made Camille wonder if she had been too harsh with Gabrielle. The two of them were best friends as well as siblings, after all. Also, her mother had a tendency to be too forthright with, well, everyone. Camille thought it was because the woman was so beautiful and could get away with it.

  "Well, let's get you into your wedding dress." Her mother clapped her hands together. "I even brought you a present."

  "A present?" Camille asked, mouth dropping open.

  Her sister was usually the one who got presents. Gabrielle would always receive pearl cream for her face, fine jewelry, and new dresses that matched her golden hair. I suppose it is my wedding day. Camille felt a surge of pride.

  After giving her a grin, her mother turned away and left the room for a moment. Gabrielle met her eyes.

  "About what I said about Kale…" Gabrielle said. "That was not my place. I'm sorry. I know you care greatly for your husband-to-be."

  "Forget it." Camille shook her head. "A present from Mother, huh? Do you know what it is?"

  Appearing intrigued, Gabrielle shook her head too. Camille's question was answered by her mother walking into the room with a pair of white shoes. The bottoms had four fingers' width of wood attached. Her lips curled in revulsion. High heels were fashionable ever since the Queen of England had worn them, but these were too high.

  "That's horrendous, Mother." Gabrielle wrinkled her nose. "No woman should ever wear those. They're too tall."

  "You won't see them," her mother said. "The wedding dress has a long enough bottom that they'll be concealed. This way Camille will be taller. You've always wanted to be tall like Gabrielle and I, right?"

  The silent insult concealed by her mother's words made Camille feel as though she had just swallowed too much cinnamon. Her throat burned, but she fought down the pain. This was her mother being the way that she always was. She knew she would be wearing those awful shoes for her wedding because no one ever said no to Cecile.

  ****

  Kale stood with his mother in the church, wondering whether he had chosen the wrong color for the pew decorations. Perhaps light blue would have been more befitting for the bows. It was the color of his bride's eyes. He blew out a sigh.

  "You're shaking," his mother said. "Will you be alright?"

  "It's just that Gabrielle's so beautiful." Kale shook his head. "I fear she won't like anything. I have done so much to impress her."

  Instead of answering, his mother clamped her lips together. Kale had seen the woman do that enough times around his father to know that she was withholding something she felt would make him angry. Still he was not his father and he respected his mother's opinions. He wanted to know what she was thinking.

  "What is it, Mother?" Kale asked. "Just speak to me."

  "Oh, you got so angry with me last time I was honest, I think it would be better to be quiet." Her mother sighed. "But if you insist upon knowing…"

  "What is it?" Kale frowned.

  "It's as I feared. Your wife is a great beauty to be certain, but I don't think she's good for you," his mother said. "How she reacted yesterday after you put in so much effort to please her did not sit well with me. She will never be happy with what you give her, no matter how hard you try. You'll spend your life wearing yourself out. I don't want to see you doing such things."

  The words made his stomach drop like an anchor in the ocean. His stomach churned and his blood boiled, but he realized that was because his mother had just confirmed his worst fears. But that's not true. Neither of us knows Gabrielle well. He ran a hand through his hair but didn't speak.

  "You're angry with me now, aren't you?" his mother questioned.

  "I asked for your honesty, so I can't be angry." Kale fingered the bow.

  Silence fell between them, the last thing Kale wanted because it gave him time to focus on the wedding. He hung his head.

  Chapter Five

  With her heart pounding, Camille wobbled toward the church door in her wedding gown alongside her family. She knew she appeared ridiculous and noted her mother's hard frown. Why is it so important that I wear these shoes anyway? Camille scowled and ran her fingers through her chestnut hair. Her mother grabbed her and placed a long lace veil on her head. Camille's face was concealed completely and she felt as though she was attempting to see through a thick cloud. Her lips thinned.

  "I don't understand why I have to wear these shoes," Camille said. "And why do I have to wear the veil now? The wedding won't even be for a little while, yet."

  "Because," her mother said sharply.

  "And I don’t get why I have to sit in the back at my own sister's wedding," Gabrielle said. "That isn't fair. I want to see it all."

  "It's necessary," her mother said haughtily.

  Just as Gabrielle opened her mouth to say more, her father stepped in. "Enough, Gabrielle. Listen to your parents and keep your mouth shut."

  At once, Gabrielle clamped her lips over her teeth. Her eyes shown with unshed tears. Her sister rarely got yelled at as the pretty one, so she was likely stunned by the show. Camille frowned and took a teetering step forward before her mother ranted about her gracelessness. She reached the wooden door but failed to open it with her weak arms. Her father pulled open the door and the four of them went inside.

  The vestibule of the church was high with stained glass windows. Sunlight poured in through the glass and made a beautiful cross design on the floor. An open entryway revealed the church beyond. The ceiling was high with angels painted upon it. Chandeliers filled with candles glistened. The pews all had beautiful bows tied to them. She knew the church normally wouldn't have bows. Kale did this, she thought. It was so lovely her heart grew warm.

  "Those bows are an awful color," her sister muttered.

  "Oh, Gabrielle." Her mother rolled her eyes.

  "I think the color is lovely," Camille said.

  Instead of responding, Gabrielle shrugged then elbowed her in the ribs. It took Camille a moment to understand why. Kale stood at the front of the church already, speaking to a large woman who she assumed was his mother. Her heart sped up and she became dizzy. Kale. It was her husband to be. She was filled with so many emotions at once. She'd never been so energetic while tasting
the bitter flavor of dread at the same time. She swayed.

  "He really is quite an attractive man." Camille gushed.

  "Of course." Her father said this proudly, as if it was he who had dreamed him up and painted him into the world.

  "A little on the skinny side, though." Gabrielle tilted her head and squinted. "He has a boyish form to him."

  Nobody responded to Gabrielle's words because Kale turned around. Her parents yelped at the same time. Her father shoved Gabrielle behind him as if shielding her from a monster. Kale gave them a questioning look, then raised his hand and waved. Camille waved back. Kale's eyes grew misty as if the sight of her made him too overwhelmed to stand. Camille had seen this happen many times when her sister paid attention to a man. For once, somebody cared enough for her to get weak-kneed at the sight of her. She beamed.

  The moment was broken when Kale walked away and Gabrielle stepped out from beyond her father, hissing like an angry goose.

  "Honestly, Father, what on earth was that?" Gabrielle snapped. "I have never seen you act so strangely."

  Her father shrugged. "I saw a man staring at you in a way he should not have been."

  Camille snorted. "Father, men have been looking at her that way since she was twelve years old. By the end of the night, half the men will have asked for her hand. Even the ones who are married."

  "Camille, be a lady." Her mother seized her hand. "And let's get you out of here while the guests arrive. I want to do some last minute alterations."

  "Alterations?" Camille squeaked.

  She wondered whether her mother had a metal rod to force her back to straighten. It would look fine with her strange shoes.

  ****

  Kale lingered at the altar, frowning at his feet. The guests had all arrived and Father Harris stood talking to someone that he did not know. He could not get what he had just seen out of his head—Gabrielle, standing in her wedding dress. But he felt strange about the whole ordeal as well. The cheerful, I'm-so-excited-to-be-here wave did not fit the manner Gabrielle had portrayed yesterday. He doubted she had grown more enthralled at the thought of their wedding after having a vase full of water dumped upon her. His stomach tumbled uneasily, not only because of the wedding but because he did not understand why Gabrielle could be so cold one day and warm and bubbly the next. Good God, man, it was just a wave, Kale reminded himself. You can tell hardly anything about someone by a wave. The reminder of his idiocy calmed him. He shouldn't overanalyze. It was bound to drive him mad.

  When Kale looked up and met the eyes of his father, he jumped in surprise. He hadn't realized the man was there.

  "What's the matter with you, boy?" his father asked.

  "Just pre-wedding jitters, sir," Kale said.

  His father clapped him on the shoulder so hard it caused his muscle to ache. "Be a man, for God's sake. Tonight your wife will expect you to be one."

  A chill ran down his spine. He nodded. He was intimidated by the fact he would soon take Gabrielle as his own. Maybe that was why he had been so odd in his thinking about the wave. He was likely trying to find a way to talk himself out of the wedding, though that would be the biggest mistake of his life. His fists tightened. His father was cold in demeanor, but he was right. Kale needed to be a man, not only for himself but for Gabrielle. The woman could have any husband she wanted. He had to give her a reason to be glad she had chosen him.

  As Kale silently swayed on the spot, his father grunted and shook his head. Kale gazed down the aisle and spotted his bride for the second time that day. She remained still and he was able to study her. It may have been his imagination or perhaps the length of the hall, but she seemed to have shrunk during the night. And she didn't appear as curvy today either. It was as if somebody had robbed her of her womanly curves and had given her the body of a young boy. It's the dress, Kale thought. He had seen on other women how a dress design could change the way a whole body looked. This gown was all wrong for Gabrielle. That was all. He tried to focus on what was beyond the dress and suddenly grew dizzy due to his own imagination. It was too easy to visualize her long golden hair, smooth skin, and lips as pink as freshly plucked cherries. He swallowed as a nervous bead of sweat trickled down his chin. He could concentrate no more.

  His shoes became the most interesting objects in the room. Even as Father Harris clapped him on the shoulder and said it was time to start, he could not look up. Kale swallowed hard as someone—likely Father Harris again—raised his hand and the sound of the organ began. A slow tune played, one that he did not recognize. He thought a wedding march should be more chipper than the one that was played. Instead all he heard was deep, mournful tones. It was as if the organ was groaning in pain. Footsteps drew nearer to him. His father dug his claws into his shoulder and he endured sharp pain. The man leaned over to him.

  "Do this right, you imbecile," his father hissed in his ear.

  Kale gulped again, then looked up just enough to see the bottom of his bride's dress. There was no great procession of people, it appeared. It was just the bride and her father. It was likely because the distance from Charleston to York was too great to bring guests. Immediately, he grew dizzy again. He glanced at Father Harris and studied the man's wrinkled face instead. Never before had wrinkles and a harelip been more interesting to him.

  ****

  When Camille glanced at her husband to be, she noted that his face was as pale as the milk she had drunk that morning and that his hands shook. She was quivering too. As glad as she was to be marrying Kale, she could not help but feel fear at the thought that this was forever. At least she had somebody good to spend it with, though. She'd known many women who had husbands who treated their dirty trousers better than them. She hoped she would never have to endure such treatment. The man ties bows on pews. I doubt you have cause to worry about his cruelty toward you. She titled her face toward him and tried to telepathically urge him to glance at her. His gaze would not budge. She heard her father say something to the priest when the man asking him a question, but she didn't care. Her focus was only on Kale.

  The man was so worried that she could not help but reach out and grab his hand. This finally caught his attention. He glanced at her, mouth open. For just a moment she saw him squint as if he was trying to see her clearly, then he shook his head and looked at the priest again. Still he did not release her hand. It was all she could think about. Her sense of time slipped away. She could have been floating throughout the universe hand in hand with her husband to be, surrounded by nothing else. She tightened her grip on the man's hand. I wonder if he feels the same way as I do.

  "Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God, and in the face of this company, to join together this man and this woman in holy matrimony. This is an honorable estate, instituted of God, signifying unto us the mystical union that is betwixt Christ and his Church; which holy estate Christ adorned and beautified with his presence and first miracle that he wrought in Cana of Galilee, and is commended of Saint Paul to be honorable among all men. It is not by any to be entered into unadvisedly or lightly, but reverently, discreetly, advisedly, soberly, and in the fear of God," the priest said. "Into this holy estate these two persons present come now to be joined. If any man can show just cause why they may not lawfully be joined together, let him now speak, or else hereafter forever hold his peace.

  A moment of silence fell over the crowd. Nobody spoke. In the back, she heard her father say something, but not loud enough to make out. Something clattered. This was enough to drive Camille's thoughts away from her hand in Kale's, if only for the moment.

  "I require and charge you both, as you will answer at the dreadful day of judgment when the secrets of all hearts shall be disclosed, that if either of you know any impediment, why you may not be lawfully joined together in Matrimony, you do now confess it." Father Harris paused and gazed at both of them pointedly. "Be well assured that if any persons are joined together other than as God's word does allow their marriage is not
lawful."

  Camille gazed into Father Harris's face but said nothing. The man turned his gaze upon Kale.

  "Sir Kale of York, will you take this woman as your wedded wife, to live together after God's ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony?" Father Harris asked. "Will you love her, comfort her, honor, and keep her in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, keep only unto her, so long as you both shall live?"

  "I will," Kale said quietly but without hesitation, giving Camille a rush of both pleasure an anxiety. It's my turn next, Camille thought.

  "My lady, will you take this man to be your wedded husband, to live together after God's ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony? Will you love him, comfort him, honor, and keep him in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, keep only unto him, so long as you both shall live?" Father Harris asked.

  For a moment she was dazed. Heads turned toward her and she heard angry wasps buzz in her ears. Why did he call me just lady instead of by my name? But then Kale placed his gaze on her and she knew she wanted to be wedded to him, regardless of what Father Harris had called her. She released a shaky sigh.

  "I will."

  ****

  The ceremony drew to an end as Kale stood, quaking, in front of Father Harris. He could hardly breathe and felt as though he was treading water. The thing which frightened him drew nearer and nearer every second. It was almost time for him to kiss Gabrielle, almost time for him to seal the deal. After this ceremony was over, he would be married for the rest of his life. He squeezed Gabrielle's hand tighter and wondered what the woman thought of. He could tell that she was just as nervous as he was because her hand trembled in his own.

  "I now pronounce you man and wife," Father Harris said. "You may now kiss the bride."

  The moment he had both dreaded and wanted had arrived. He turned to face his bride and lifted the veil. Time slowed down as he saw not hair of honey but hair of dark chestnut. He did not find skin as pale as a fresh snowfall but instead flesh the color of an olive. Two strange auburn eyes stared up at him from beneath dark brows. It was not Gabrielle who he had just wedded, but instead it was her sister, Camille. The girl smiled at him and shut her eyes.