by Amanda Davis
“Come along,” Elizabeth ordered him, tugging at his hand. “You are frozen to your very core, and you will catch your death. I will arrange tea for us in the dining room.”
Impulsively, she leaned into him and embraced him quite unexpectedly. He felt a slight tug on his waistcoat, and she withdrew, looking embarrassed.
“I was terribly worried,” she repeated, staring at him with an expression of adoration in her eyes.
“If I had known you were beside yourself, my lady, I would have made a better effort to return sooner.”
“All is well that ends well,” she announced. “Shall we?”
Before leading her into the dining room to warm himself by the hearth with tea, he looked toward the office where his father had disappeared and shook his head slightly.
You see, Father? She loves me. Your fears are unfounded.
On the day before the wedding, Xavier noticed the key to the safe was missing from where he always held it in the pocket of his waistcoat. He had it only the evening before but when he went to dress that morning, it was no longer there.
The mystery alarmed him as he retraced his steps back to the office and looked about for signs of the key he had never once misplaced.
It was there that Elizabeth found him, crawling about the floor on his hands and knees.
“My word, Xavier, what are you doing?” she giggled from the doorway.
“Oh!” he gasped, humiliation tinging his face as he jumped to his feet to straighten himself. “I lost something, and I was looking for it.”
“We do have servants for such tasks,” she reminded him, but Xavier knew he could not tell the staff the significance of the key. They would rob the hotel blind if they chanced upon it.
“Are you all right?” Elizabeth asked, gliding toward him, her skirts rustling gently as she moved. “You seem wan.”
“I must find this key,” he murmured, looking about the floor from a standing position this time. “I had it just last night.”
“A key?” she repeated slowly. Her voice croaked slightly, but Xavier barely noticed in his perplexity.
“Yes,” he muttered. “The key to the safe. I keep it in my waistcoat…where could the deuced thing be?”
“Oh!” Elizabeth called brightly, hurrying beside the desk. She leaned down and picked up a long, brass instrument. “Is this it?”
Relief washed through Xavier, and he chuckled.
“Indeed it is,” he laughed, accepting it from her white glove. “I thought I had looked there before you arrived.”
“Perhaps you simply needed fresh eyes,” Elizabeth said breathlessly, smiling at him.
“Perhaps I simply need you at my side so that I do not lose my wits, too,” he laughed, reaching to pull her hands into his. “Thank you, Lise. I cannot explain the damage that would have done if it had fallen into the wrong hands.”
Elizabeth cocked her head back to stare into his face, and for the first time in days, he saw a familiar shadow forming over her face.
“What is the matter, my love?” he asked softly. “Why do you seem forlorn?”
“Do I? Perhaps it is merely nerves. In one day, we will be man and wife.”
He raised her hands to his mouth and kissed them gently before lowering their arms.
“I, for one, am looking forward to it even though it does not much seem that a wedding is being prepared, does it?”
He looked over her shoulder into the lobby and shook his head.
“I have yet to see extra staff or décor coming through,” he muttered. “It is odd, is it not?”
“I would not know,” she replied softly. “I have never been married.”
“Ho! Ho!” Xavier chortled. “Yet I am sure you have attended your share of ceremonies. Surely, you must agree that there should be a bustle occurring in preparation for the wedding.”
“I have not given anything much thought but breakfast,” Elizabeth replied. “Perhaps I am too simplistic.”
Xavier looked at her and nodded slowly.
“You are correct. If there is anything amiss with the preparations, certainly our mothers will know of it.”
Even if your mother is in absentia and mine is likely ape-drunk at this very moment.
A strange stirring unsettled his stomach.
No one has much discussed the wedding either. I have not received messages of congratulations nor gifts.
The more Xavier thought about it, the more he realized how odd the days leading to their union seemed to him.
He distinctly recalled Emmeline’s wedding. It had been an extravagant affair.
Of course, Father had invested his own time and interest. I only have Mother.
Xavier tried to smother his resentment, particularly when Elizabeth stared at him with such plaintiveness.
“Darling, are you all right?” she asked.
“Yes,” he replied. “How could I not be when I am about to wed the most intoxicating lady in all of England?”
“How fortunate she must be!”
“I hope she feels so.”
“How could a lady in your company feel anything but lucky?” Elizabeth murmured, and Xavier’s tall form was painted with warmth.
“Come along, my dear. I would not wish for you to perish from hunger on the morrow before our nuptials.”
“That would be quite a tragedy.”
“Or a scandal!” Xavier quipped, and Elizabeth cast him a sidelong look as she took his arm.
“We would not wish to scandalize the hotel.”
He thought he detected a note of bitterness, but when he studied her face, he saw nothing that indicated displeasure.
We are both fraught with nerves today, he decided. His hand carefully touched the key in his pocket, and he reminded himself to keep a better eye upon it.
It is a blessing that Elizabeth found it when she did. I cannot imagine what Father would have to say about it if it went missing.
“Would you prefer if I hold it for you?” Elizabeth asked, noticing his hand where it remained over his pocket. “I could easily keep it on a chain about my neck.”
“You would do that for me?”
“If it puts your mind at ease,” she replied, but she did not meet his eyes. “I will rarely be away from your side once we are wed. You need not go far to search for it.”
“That is very true,” he agreed, withdrawing it from his pocket. “I would not wish to burden you.”
“It is no burden,” she insisted, taking the key from his hands. “I will have the goldsmith fashion a chain.”
“I would prefer that my father know nothing about this,” he said and instantly wished he had worded the ask differently. Hurt flashed over her face before she could control it.
“May I ask why?”
Xavier inhaled and shook his head apologetically.
“It is not you,” he began but his mind was whirling to think of the right words as he spoke. “He is naturally suspicious of newcomers.”
“He is not suspicious of Elias,” Elizabeth replied pointedly.
“Elias holds interest in the hotel.”
“As do I! I will be your wife!”
Xavier gave her a look, urging her to lower her voice. They were attracting the attention of passersby in the lobby.
“Lise,” he offered placatingly, “you simply must earn his trust. He will warm to you as he did to Elias. I assure you, he was not fond of the idea of Elias, either.”
She did not respond, but a muscle in her fine jaw twitched slightly.
“Do you understand?”
“Yes,” she muttered. “I will say nothing to your father.”
“Good. Come along, then.”
No sooner had he taken a step did he pause again and look at her.
“Should the duchess not be here already? Surely she will stay the night to be here for the morning?”
“I am sure she will be along,” Elizabeth said shortly, but the answer only raised the confusion that Xavier had been manifesting
earlier.
There are no preparations being made, no new staff present. The duchess is conspicuously absent, yet Elizabeth is nonchalant about this as though it does not bother her in the least.
He permitted Elizabeth to tug his arm along, the ruffles of her dress falling over the arm of his crisp shirt, but uncertainty was mounting inside him.
Xavier was beginning to question if the wedding was going to occur at all.
Chapter Nine
“Mother!”
Lise spun away from the mirror and flew toward the door, almost tripping over her veil in the process. She flung herself into Patience’s arms and willed herself not to cry.
Although she had done her best to hide the blotches about her face, it was clear that the duchess had endured an agonizing beating before arriving at the hotel, and Lise choked back a sob as she examined her face.
“Leave us,” she instructed the servants who milled about, helping her prepare for the wedding, which was mere moments away.
Without a word or protest, her suite emptied, leaving only the mother and daughter to look at one another.
“What has he done to you?” Lise demanded. “Does he know about our plan?”
“No,” Patience assured her. “The duke knows nothing. What of the Balfours? Do they suspect anything?”
Lise dropped her arms and turned away, gathering the mass of lace in her hands as she padded back toward the glass to look at herself.
Truly, she had never been more beautiful in the elegant gown of lace and silk. A crown of white held the heavy veil in place, spilling over her shoulders to enshroud her in a sea of white. This was all a stunning contrast to her ebony hair and stormy, gray eyes, a true vision for even Lise’s own gaze to behold.
Instead of answering her mother’s question, she posed one of her own.
“Why did you stay away, Mother? I know you visited with Mrs. Balfour. Why did you not come to see me?”
“I needed you to remain focused on winning over Mr. Xavier, darling. I wanted nothing more than to see you, but I could not distract you from our scheme.”
“Nothing could!” Lise breathed, her eyes falling again on her mother’s bruised face. “Does he know you have come here?”
“Of course not, Lise. You must not worry about your father. He is a concern of the past now…provided you have already begun to collect for our fund.”
“I have,” Lise replied, hurrying toward the armoire. “I would prefer if you take it. I have the key to the safe now. When the time is right, we will take what we need and be on our way.”
Her voice trembled slightly as she spoke the words, and Patience caught it immediately.
“You sound uncertain,” the duchess said as Lise pressed the money she had acquired into her mother’s hand.
Lise raised her eyes and met her mother’s.
“They are good souls,” she sighed. “I am hardly of a character to steal from hardworking men.”
“It is not something I expect you did with a happy heart,” Patience agreed, guilt clouding her own eyes. “If our own lives were not at risk, I would never agree to such criminality. I trust you know that.”
“Yes, Mother, of course.”
Lise lowered her gaze.
“There is more than that,” Patience guessed. “You have developed feelings for Mr. Xavier.”
“No!” Lise lied quickly. “I-he is also a good man, but that does not change the fact that we must go.”
“Lise, you have not told him of our plans, have you?”
Shocked, Lise shook her head.
“I would never endanger us in such a way!” she cried.
“He will simply call upon your father, and we will be forced back to Pinehaven in chains if need be. Your father will never let us go.”
“I know that, Mother!”
And she did know. There would be no fairy story ending for her and Xavier, even if he were to learn the truth and forgive her sins. The moment the duke learned that she had married without his consent, it was precisely as the duchess had said—the marriage would be annulled, and they would be brought back to Holden.
No matter how attached she had become to Xavier, remaining was not an option. It would be a death sentence.
“My lady?” Emmeline knocked gently and looked into the room. “Oh, forgive me, Your Grace. I did not realize you had come.”
“I have only just arrived,” Patience replied.
“The ceremony is about to commence. Shall I inform the priest that you are ready, Lady Elizabeth?”
Lise looked to her mother and quickly blinked back the tears forming in her eyes.
“Yes,” Lise muttered. “I am ready.”
There was a look of deep suspicion on Xavier’s face, which sent chills through Lise’s body.
“Mother, where is everybody?” she whispered, immediately understanding his expression. “There are barely twenty guests.”
“That is for the best,” her mother insisted, squeezing her arm. “Hush now. Your groom is staring.”
The duchess fell away to take her spot among the guests, leaving Lise to walk alone across the aisle, the dread in her gut mounting.
This should not be so difficult. You are to wed the man you desire, a good man, one who loves you undoubtedly, and yet…
Yet it was all a farce, a sham.
Lise clamped her mouth closed and proceeded down the aisle toward the altar where the priest waited with Xavier. Slowly, the look of distrust melted away from Xavier’s face when his eyes rested on her approaching form, but Lise was having a difficult time returning his steadfast stare.
Suddenly, the air was stiflingly hot, and she wanted to dart from the chapel and gulp back huge breaths of clean air, but somehow, she managed to make her way toward her bridegroom.
She was grateful that the veil covered the panic on her face until she was at Xavier’s side and he lifted it to study her eyes.
“Kneel,” the priest instructed, and Xavier cast her a warm beam to reassure her before helping her to the altar where they lowered their heads in prayer.
Father Callaway droned on, but Lise did not hear a word, her eyes darting toward the few people in the pews.
Charlton Balfour sat at his wife’s side as though they were strangers to one another. To the left of Mrs. Balfour sat Emmeline and Elias, the baby asleep in the nanny’s arms at the side of the pew.
Several other servants were in attendance, including the head housekeeper, Antoinette, and the maître d’, but there was not another familiar face among them.
Of course, Lise realized. We cannot invite those whom we know of, or the word will get back to Father before we have a chance to escape.
Again, Lise’s eyes fell on Anne Balfour; the older woman’s face seemed taut with an expression the lady did not understand.
How did Mother convince her to go along with this? Did she take advantage of Anne’s poor condition?
More shame flowed through her, and she forced herself to look at Xavier, who had not shifted his own eyes away from her face.
Father Callaway turned to the congregation.
“On this first day of March, in the year 1815, if any man do allege and declare any impediment why they may not be coupled together in matrimony, by God’s law or the laws of this realm, and will be bound, and sufficient sureties with him, to the parties, or else put in a caution to prove his allegation, then the solemnization must be deferred until such time as the truth be tried.”
With bated breath, Lise looked again toward the guests, who made no move to contest the validity of their union.
They should all cry out together in unison. Surely, everyone in this room has their doubts!
Yet only silence ensued, leaving the clergyman to continue.
“I require and charge you both, as ye will answer at the dreadful day of judgment when the secrets of all hearts shall be disclosed, that if either of you knows any impediment, why ye may not be lawfully joined together in matrimony, ye do now confess
it. For be ye well assured, that so many as are coupled together otherwise than God's Word doth allow are not joined together by God, neither is their matrimony lawful,” Father Callaway continued before turning to Xavier.
What of the marriage banns? Lise thought irrelevantly and suddenly she found herself wondering if the marriage was legitimate in any way. Could this all be a farce fabricated by her mother somehow?
She looked desperately at her mother, the confusion of wanting to be wed to Xavier and the desire to flee the hotel causing her dizziness.
“Xavier Balfour, wilt thou have this woman to be thy wedded wife, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of matrimony? Wilt thou love her, comfort, honor, and keep her in sickness and in health, and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?”
Xavier smiled lovingly, nodding as he spoke.
“I will.”
The priest then turned to her, his rheumy eyes unblinking, and for a fleeting moment, Lise felt as if he could read the impurity in her soul.
“Elizabeth Burnaby of Holden, wilt thou have this man to be thy wedded husband, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of matrimony? Wilt thou obey him, and serve him, love, honor, and keep him in sickness and in health, and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?”
I will burn in hell for this. I am lying before God and the man I love.
“Elizabeth?”
“I will,” she managed to breathe before she could blurt out the heaviness in her heart.
Xavier’s registered relief as though he had worried that she would refuse.
“Xavier, I will have you repeat these words: I, Xavier Balfour, take thee, Elizabeth, to be my wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part, according to God’s holy ordinance, and thereto I plight thee my troth.”
Xavier repeated his vows easily and without forgetting one word, causing Lise to wonder if he had not memorized the Solemnization of Matrimony beforehand.