Their families were there to witness and celebrate their marriage on the balmy August afternoon. Adam gave her away, looking so grown-up in his new suit it made Faith’s heart swell with pride. Iris stood with Faith wearing a satisfied smile on her face, but Radford stood beside his brother looking concerned.
Holding Duke’s strong hand, Faith looked into his handsome face and promised to love and honor him.
“Forever,” she mouthed silently, and the affirmation she saw in his eyes made her heart turn over in her chest. She’d accepted his proposal in the shadowy night, misrepresenting herself. Now she would commit her heart, body, and soul in the light of day and pray it would be enough. Together they would sink their roots into their marriage garden and grow strong enough to weather any storms. She would be diligent in keeping the weeds of life from choking them. She would bloom for him and bring sunshine and nourishment to his life.
“I, Duke Halford Grayson, take Faith Celia Wilkins to be my wife . . . to have and to hold from this day forward . . .” He looked deep into her eyes while promising to stand beside her through all troubles, to honor and protect her, and to love her. “I promise,” he mouthed.
A tear rolled over her lashes and streaked down her cheek. He brushed it away with his thumb as he leaned down to seal their vows with a kiss.
An instant later, Iris gave Faith an exuberant hug, then passed her to Radford, who welcomed her into the family with a more reserved, gentlemanly embrace.
Duke hugged his mother, but before she turned him loose, she caught Faith’s hand and pulled her to Duke’s side. She held their hands, and spoke to them both. “I never realized how hard it would be to see my last son marry and leave home, but I couldn’t be happier for you two.” Her eyes sparkled with moisture and sincerity. “Love requires you to be patient, strong, and wise. Be faithful, share your troubles, and never lie to each other. Be kind and respectful and forgiving. And when it rains, think about this glorious sunny day when you promised to love each other.”
“We will,” Duke said, promising for both of them.
“Enjoy each moment together as if it were your last because you just . . . you never . . .” She bit her lip, and tears appeared. “Oh, honey, I wish your father were here. He’d be so proud of you.” She broke down and buried her face against Duke’s chest.
The onslaught of Nancy’s tears was like a purge to those around her. Everyone standing in that pretty field of wildflowers had once lost someone they loved. The ladies sought handkerchiefs to wipe their eyes. The men stood silent and stiff, chins tucked to hold back their emotions. And Faith no longer felt embarrassed about her own wobbly feelings.
Nancy lifted her head and gasped when she saw everyone weeping. “Dear God, what have I started here?”
“An intense craving for a glass of wine,” Aster said drolly, causing watery laughs in the group.
Nancy straightened her pretty green shirtwaist. “Amen to that, Aster. And amen to this marriage.” She caught Faith’s hand and pulled her into a warm, motherly hug. “Welcome to the family, sweetheart. Now I promise to quit raining on this joyful, sunny day and help you and my son celebrate.”
Her announcement brought a deep sense of homecoming and warmth to Faith, who needed Nancy’s motherly welcome. She’d barely begun to imagine what it might mean to her to have such a woman for a mother-in-law.
They hugged and laughed beneath the maple tree, then walked to Radford and Evelyn’s house for a small celebration.
With her husband beside her, Faith met the rest of her guests. Duke and his mother invited both mill crews and their families. Amelia’s mother, Victoria, had come with her new husband Jeb. Agatha Brown and Duke’s mother were doting on the children, including Adam and Cora, like two contented grandmothers.
Agatha slipped her arm around Adam, but spoke to Duke. “You’re getting a fine young man here.”
Duke gave her a nod. “I agree, Mrs. Brown.”
“Did you see those beautiful flower boxes Adam built for me? They’re chock full of pink impatiens. Why, my store has never looked so nice.”
“Looks like a new place,” Duke said.
Adam’s cheeks flushed, but Faith could see how pleased he was by Agatha’s praise, and how manly he was becoming as he escorted Agatha to a chair on the porch.
She felt Duke’s arms slip around her waist, and she leaned into his embrace. “What a lovely group of friends and family you have.”
“Got everyone’s names memorized?” he teased.
“Ask me that on our twentieth anniversary.”
He laughed and nuzzled her neck. “Speaking of friends, looks like Aster and the doctor are getting friendly over there.”
Faith’s heart jolted, then shuddered with relief when she saw them standing near the porch, a proper distance apart. They were squabbling over something, but Faith noticed a softer and warmer side to Aster, and the doctor seemed less arrogant than usual.
Throughout the evening, Faith kept an eye on her aunts, but they were too busy serving food and cake to misbehave. Faith’s body hummed with an intense awareness of Duke. Each touch of his hand against her back thrilled her. Every private glance from his dark eyes was filled with heat and longing. Despite her nerves, she yearned to be skin-to-skin with him and consummate their vows.
In the early evening, he slipped his arms around her and pulled her against his muscled body. “Let’s sneak away right now,” he said, his voice husky.
“To your brother’s hayloft?”
His low chuckle poured over her like warm rain after a long dry summer, and she basked in his hug. “Don’t tempt me.” His lips and teeth nibbled her ear. “I have a place you’ll like better.”
“Then let’s say good-bye.”
“Let’s sneak away. Your aunts will see the children home and keep them entertained for the night.” He linked fingers with her. “It’s time for us to celebrate alone.”
Her thudding heart made it difficult to act casual as she strolled across the yard on Duke’s arm. But when he ducked behind the house and pulled her out of sight, she was breathless and giggling. “I like this business of sneaking away together.”
He had the most pleased smile on his face she’d ever seen. “Gather your skirt,” he said. She clutched the silk fabric in her fists, and he lifted her over the fence. A second later, he braced his hands on the pile of fieldstones and swung his feet over like a young boy. “We’ve escaped,” he said, his eyes alight. “Onward.”
She laughed and took his arm. “Where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise.”
He had been teasing her for three weeks, but she suspected they would stay at the Taylor Hotel by the Common.
“I need to stop home to get my bag,” she said, but when they turned down Mill Street, he surprised her by stopping in front of the greenhouse. “My bag is at the—”
He put his finger over her lips. “Close your eyes.”
“What?”
“I’m going to give you your surprise.”
She shut her eyes. “What are you up to?”
“No peeking.”
She gasped as he lifted her in his arms. “You’re going to hurt your shoulder and ruin all our progress.”
He started walking. “We aren’t going far. Just keep your eyes closed.”
“You could make this more fun by kissing me.”
He laughed and gave her a light kiss on the lips. Seconds later he stopped. “You can open your eyes now.” The instant her lashes lifted, he turned her to face the Colburn house she had wanted to buy. “I hope you like our new home.”
She stared in disbelief.
“It’s ours.”
It couldn’t be. She looked at her husband. “You bought the house?”
“I did.”
“You bought it?”
He nodded, his grin saying he was mighty pleased with himself and proud of his gift to her.
“You rat!” She thumped her fist against his chest. “You knew
this whole time and let me suffer, watching people move in furniture, knowing I would never have a chance—”
“It was a surprise,” he said gently.
“My heart’s been breaking for three weeks because . . . oh, Duke, I love it.” She hugged his neck. “Thank you.”
“Well, that’s better than getting punched.”
Her face heated and she rubbed his chest where she’d hit him. “Thank you for the wonderful surprise.”
He carried her up the steps onto the front porch. “You didn’t think we were going to live with my mother or your aunts, did you?”
With only three weeks between his proposal and their wedding, she hadn’t known what to think about their living arrangements, and had uneasily left the decision to him. It was his town, his money, his choice. But she hadn’t expected him to buy a house, and certainly not the one she dreamed of owning.
He feigned a gasp. “Open the door so I can carry you inside before my arms fall off.”
She laughed and hugged his neck. “I’m glad you chose me to be your wife.”
A pleased grin tipped his lips. “So am I, Faith. Now open the door and let me carry you over the threshold before I collapse.”
She turned the doorknob and pushed it open.
He groaned and staggered inside, making her laughter the first sound to fill their house. With sure steps, he strode through a spacious foyer and into a large parlor where he twirled her in a circle. “What do you think?”
He stood her beside him, and Faith could only stare. When she’d seen the house three months earlier, it had been bare to the floor.
“I didn’t want to bring you into an empty house. My mother and the girls outfitted the parlor for us, and chose necessities for the other rooms, but if you don’t like the furnishings we can replace them.”
For the first time that day Duke looked uncertain. She turned a slow circle, drinking in the garden setting, the deep green parlor furniture, the plush rug of browns, golds, and greens. Tiny green-stemmed wildflowers of aster, bee balm, forget-me-nots, and pink pasture roses patterned the cream-colored walls. She crossed the carpet and touched a bouquet, feeling the dried paint beneath her fingers. Tansy had given her this gift by painting these delicate flowers for her.
“It’s beautiful,” she said. Sateen drapes of tan and buff with brown tassel tie-backs covered three large windows that were partially open to let in the evening light and fresh air. The room was gorgeous. “I can’t believe this is our home.” She looped her arms around Duke’s warm neck. “I’m going to love being your wife.”
Relief filled his eyes as he lowered his head to kiss her. They shared their first passionate kiss as husband and wife in their parlor.
He held her against him, his arm banding her back as they swayed together, moving to the slow, seductive rhythm of his delving, stroking tongue. Heat burned through her, and she basked in the sound of his low groan. They would consummate their vows in this house tonight.
“I never got my bag,” she whispered against his mouth.
“Tansy put it in our bedchamber.”
“So my aunts knew about this too.”
“We were all plotting against you darling.”
She sighed and rubbed her palm over his chest. “Thank you for the best day of my life.”
“I want it to be the best night of your life, too.”
By the look in his eyes, they would be sharing their new bed soon. She knew what was required of her, and was more than willing to lie with her husband. But what if he sensed her inexperience and asked questions she couldn’t answer?
“Can I see the house before we . . . before I change?”
“That’s what I’d planned to do before you distracted me.” He grinned and took her hand. “Kitchen first.” A bottle of red wine sat on the counter with two glasses that he promptly filled. “Do you think we can navigate while carrying these?”
She accepted the glass with a smile. “If I can cross a rutted field in the dark without spilling a drop of wine, I think I can manage a hardwood floor and a few doorways.”
He tapped his glass to hers. “Welcome to your new home, Mrs. Grayson.”
“Our home.” She lifted her glass to toast him. “I wish I had something to give you in return.”
He linked his fingers with hers. “You’re all I want.”
“I hope that never changes,” she whispered, paralyzed with fear to think, to know that this sweet bliss could shatter at any moment.
He lit a lantern, then led her through the dining room, a small music room, and a large water closet downstairs. Upstairs, they passed four partially furnished bedrooms, two of which Cora and Adam would use, and at the back of the house a small nursery connected to a master bedchamber as big as their parlor.
Faith trailed her fingers across a tall chiffonier and matching dresser in a lustrous cherrywood that brought a rich warmth to the room. Awed by luxury she never thought to enjoy, she admired the dressing table with a beveled oval mirror—and was shocked by the reflection of a bride in her finest dress standing beside her husband. A huge canopy bed loomed behind them, with a bouquet of herbs and wildflowers lying on the white linen pillowcase.
Their eyes met in the mirror, his dark and too compelling. Faith’s breath locked in her chest, and she waited for him, for whatever he might expect of his wife.
“Somebody left a salad on our bed,” he said, nodding toward the herbs.
Her breath shuddered out and she brought her glass to her mouth and finished the last drops of her wine. She set the empty glass on the bedstand, then picked up the bouquet. “It’s a tussie-mussie,” she said. The stems were tucked into a white lace doily and tied bouquet fashion with a pink ribbon. “It’s from my aunts. Tansy must have left it when she brought my bag.”
Duke leaned his shoulder against the carved cherry bedpost, and finished his wine. “What exactly is a tussie-mussie?”
“It can be a gift. Or a curse. It depends on what herbs you put in it.” She skirted the bed to show him the herbs. “Basil is for love and good wishes, peppermint-scented geranium for happiness, and lavender for devotion.” She brushed her finger over a daisy-like white flower with a deep yellow center. “Chamomile is for wisdom and fortitude.” Which she would surely need to get through her wedding night. “This blue, star-shaped flower is borage for bravery.” A virtue she could use more of right now. “And this wild rose is for love.”
“You forgot that one,” he said, pointing to a green stalk with tiny leaves and miniature pink flowers.
“Thyme. For daring.”
He chuckled. “Thyme for daring. That must be from Iris.”
Her face flushed. Only Iris would have thought to add the thyme, knowing Faith would find the tussie-mussie on her marriage bed. Today, on her wedding day when she needed it most, her aunts had brought love and encouragement and a bouquet of heartfelt wishes.
“Now you know why I love those women,” she said, sniffing the green, reviving herbs to hide her discomfort.
“I’m glad you have them.” Duke was watching her play with the herbs, but she sensed his thoughts were elsewhere.
With a sigh, she laid the tussie-mussie on the dressing table, looked at her handsome, patient husband, and swallowed hard. It all hinged on this, her wedding night, and making him believe she was an experienced woman. One rushed intimate involvement was hardly enough knowledge to get her through the consummation, but she wasn’t a virgin, and for that she could finally be thankful.
Duke lowered his wine glass. “Why don’t you change now?”
The heat in his eyes seared her. “I’ll need your help with my corset.” She could manage her dress, but not the white lacy corset Iris had given her. The corset, chemise, and drawers were an expensive gift from one of Iris’s former johns, but Iris, who disdained corsets and pristine white underclothes, had never worn them.
Faith’s fingers trembled and she fumbled with the buttons on the bodice of her dress. She heard the rough slid
e of her husband’s gabardine suit as he crossed the room, felt his hard body beside her even though he didn’t touch her. He set his empty wineglass on dressing table, then gently lifted her chin.
“I’m not going to rush you. There’s no hurry”
He was so beautiful, so tender, giving her his trust, his faith, his passion—a perfect wedding night—while she was holding back, keeping secrets.
He brought his mouth to hers in a tender, wine-flavored kiss that sent a rush of heat through her. She braced her hands on the dressing table to steady herself. He kept the kiss light and nibbled her lips, slipping her buttons free from the bottom up. When he freed the last button at her throat, he pushed the fabric over her shoulders and exposed her lacy undergarments that suddenly felt too seductive and revealing.
Passion flared in his eyes and he dipped his dark gaze to her breasts, returning slowly to her mouth and at last to her eyes. “Let’s get this off you.”
Chapter 26
Obeying Duke’s gentle command, Faith turned her back to him. He slid the bodice of her dress off her shoulders and down her arms, tugged the sleeves over her hands, then draped the soft fabric across the dressing table. Then his warm lips touched the nape of her neck, and flutter-birds circled her stomach like dandelion puffs caught on a hard swirl of wind.
“Don’t move,” he whispered, his breath soft and warm against her bare skin.
She felt a gentle tug in her hair, as he removed the spray of wildflowers she’d worn. When he laid the tiny cluster of white and orange trillium and yellow snapdragons down, his eyes met hers in the mirror. Pin by pin, he freed her upswept locks, dropping the pins onto the table until she felt her mass of hair tumble down her back.
“Do you have a brush in your bag?”
She nodded.
He stepped away to retrieve her bag from beside the chamber door. When he set it down, she reached inside the small, worn valise and found the brush Adam had stolen.
Wendy Lindstrom Page 22