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Their wedding was small. It didn’t matter to Euan, the only person who mattered was the one wearing the soft beige dress. Ophelia refused to wear white, insisting she was not the innocent, blushing bride. His eyes sought her out as she walked into the formal dining room of Lachlan Manor. Their guests were Marie and John and some businessmen and their wives who aligned with Campbell Shipping. They knew that he was bringing more trade to the town and wanted a slice of this prosperity.
Others genuinely liked Ophelia, and by extension him. Out of the twelve people there, all were familiar faces from his party. Of course, Hansel wasn’t there. Euan wanted no part of that man. In fact, he had already heard the gossip—Hansel was trying to raise funds to compete with his own import and export business. He was finding difficulty, of course. No one wanted to throw money against an ill-conceived plan made out of outrage. Euan was a sure thing with the experience to boot. To make matters worse, the most important man in Kamouraska was not invited to the most talked-about wedding.
Ophelia walked slowly between the guests, the lace of her train gliding along the Persian rug that graced the floor. Father Mackanin had a small smile on his face, and Euan could almost burst with pride watching her approach him. He had come to Canada to expand his business and found so much more. Something he thought long lost was in his life once again. Finally, she stood beside him, and Euan took her hand and kissed it gently. Fate had intervened and rewarded him twofold, her and the child who grew within her.
“You are simply exquisite,” he murmured and was rewarded by her radiant smile.
“Ready?” Father Mackanin asked gently.
“Yes, Father.”
Ophelia answered for them, and that was an even more pleasant surprise. Euan had seen the doubts in her eyes, from their initial coupling, the child and now wedding. She had spent years in Kamouraska trying to make herself invisible to the curious, even her life in Paris—so much so to Euan, it was like she forgot herself. He wondered about the woman beneath what she showed to the world. Slowly, by refusing to be blackmailed with a job or curtailed by the nasty words of the town’s pious unholy father, it seemed Ophelia was finding her true self again.
“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here in this great house to join this man and this woman in holy matrimony.” Father Mackanin’s voice was a neutral drone that one associated with a man of the cloth. He came to the part that was most important, the one past scriptures, and all the right good things the bible said about marriage.
“Do you, Laird Euan Campbell, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, to love, honor, and cherish for as long as you both shall live?” the father asked.
“I do.” Euan meant those two words with his whole heart, and he slipped the gold band onto her finger.
“And do you, Ophelia Pascal, take this man as your lawful wedding husband, to love, honor, and cherish for as long as you both shall live?” he asked.
“I do,” Ophelia replied, and he felt the cool metal of his gold band as she placed it on her finger.
“I pronounce you man and wife.” The Scottish dialect came out in Father Mackanin’s voice. “Laird, it’s time to kiss your lady.”
Euan took her in his arms and pressed his lips against hers with a firm, gentle pressure, marking their matrimonial bond. The light clapping echoed around them as he lifted his head and looked into her eyes. Euan cupped Ophelia’s cheek gently, and she covered his hand with hers. They turned to the small group of people who were invited to his home, now their home, and Euan smiled.
“Thank you for sharing this day with us. We have a light lunch prepared by the hotel. Please enjoy and eat plenty,” Euan encouraged.
There was no music, no band, but Euan made sure his new wife ate as well. The illness associated with carrying a child had become more frequent. In the week of waiting to be married, she’d spent more days ill in bed. In the few hours that they entertained the wedding party, he saw her sit, and her face looked pale beneath the chocolate skin. That was his cue to thank everyone and usher them away, so she could rest.
“Do you need to stay and examine her?” he asked Marie at the door.
Marie took one of her rolled cigarettes from her pocket. “I think she will be just fine. The first trimester is hard on a woman’s body. If she had help here—”
“I sent word to my housekeeper. Her cousin is traveling with them as a house girl. She’ll be able to help Ophelia,” he promised.
“Will they be good to her?” Marie asked pointedly. “The new lady of the house is not the coloring many are accustomed to. It would not make me happy if they are courteous and smile when you are in their presence and contrary when you are not.”
“I trust them with my life, and I would not have anyone in my household who did not respect her position as my wife,” Euan answered. “They will love her and our child like I do and will do all to protect them.”
“Good to know.” Marie stepped over the threshold, outside. “I’m very protective of her.”
“As am I.” Euan smiled.
“Somehow I think you’ve lived this life before,” Marie commented. “I wonder how the last one ended and if will it affect your future? In any case, I don’t want you bringing Ophelia to the offices. I’ll come to her for appointments from now until the spring, when the ice is gone from the roads.”
Euan didn’t reply. Instead, he watched Marie and John walk to their horses and rode down the driveway to the main road that leads into Kamouraska. He closed the door and went back to his wife, only to find Ophelia stacking the plates to take them to the kitchen.
“None of that, now.” Euan took them from her hands. “You’re supposed to be resting.”
“I feel much better now that everyone is gone,” she admitted. “It was a bit overwhelming, having everyone staring, talking, giving us their blessings like we need it. Would they be saying the same thing if there wasn’t money to be made with investments of your business, I wonder.”
“They wouldn’t; we would be just another couple trying to find refuge because the world didn’t agree with whom we chose to love.” Euan felt honesty was best at this moment. “You’ve seen it in Paris, and I have seen it across the world. I lived it in the Caribbean but with different results.”
Ophelia stared at him in shock. “You were married before?”
“I was not; it never got that far.” He took her hand and led her to the settee and together they sat. This was his wife, now; she needed to know of his life. “The Campbell name comes with titles and lands and in the Caribbean as well. A lot of the new inventions have not made it there and many of the colonists still live in the old ways. I met a woman of the island there—her name was Marcia. She was owned by one of the colonists, and we courted. I wanted to buy her freedom, but two barriers were in our way: her owner and his wife. Lorena wanted me in her bed, and her husband coveted Marcia. He bought and owned her. We only wanted each other.”
“What happened?” Ophelia asked, and he noted how she gently stroked his hand.
Euan sighed. “In the end, he accused Marcia of stealing and had her whipped in the middle of the square. The cat-o’-nine-tails cut her skin, and she stood defiant, never uttered a cry, and that angered him all the more. One of the lashes caught her face and gave her a scar. I vowed to kill him but never got the chance. One of the women of the island cursed him, or so he believed. I’m not one to put stock into nonsense like curses and spells, but that night, a storm wailed out of season like even mother nature was angry at the offense to Marcia. He ran through the night screaming of the demons that were after him and fell into the sea. He drowned that night, and in terror, Lorena gave Marcia her freedom so the same madness would not afflict her.”
“But why weren’t you together if she was free?”
Euan took a ragged breath, hoping it would cleanse the anger he still felt. “Marcia would no longer have me because of her scars and the one to her face. It did not matter to me. Her beauty was inside and radiated to her face. But he broke something in her that day with the lies and the beating. She no longer trusted men—anyone, me. The color of my skin was abhorrent to her because of what she faced. I cannot say I blame her. She left to live with her people in the dense jungles of the island. Whatever we had was broken.”
“Mon Dieu, Euan. I am very sorry you both lived through that.” Ophelia’s voice held sympathy.
“Then I came here, and I met you. It’s as if fate decreed I had a second chance after vowing never to love again.” Euan laced his fingers with hers. “She was tortured because of her skin and her refusal to submit. I, in turn, because the color of mine reminded her too much of what had been done to her.”
“I wanted to see America. I was going to Seneca Village in New York. I’ve heard the stories of how people are treated there—called colored or the blacks, negros, and another word I refuse to use. Free blacks formed a community and I thought to myself, how is it men and women could be so unkind to think they can own another?” Ophelia told him. “I think I stopped in Kamouraska because fear held me back. I lived in peace for so long in Paris that facing that kind of hate terrified me. Am I a coward for not going?”
“You are no such thing,” Euan answered. “It’s called self-preservation. One could never imagine how to deal with such things if it’s never been experienced.”
Ophelia looked at him. “I don’t know; where I’m from, I grew up in a massive house, running with my sister who had blonde pigtails. Mama looked just like her, yet I was put to bed and lulled to sleep with her singing just like the girl who called me sister. Papa taught me to ride and lifted me in the air while I laughed. If I asked why my skin was darker than theirs, Mama would caress my cheek and say never question God’s perfect plan. He saw beauty in my creation. It made me feel better—quelled my questions as a child. But, as I grew, I knew that I needed answers. I questioned every visitor, until one was my color, and he said I should be happy they didn’t see me as a slave but a daughter. Others were not as lucky.”
“He was completely right,” Euan agreed. “I have been to Africa and seen their kind sell their own people, and I have seen others embrace me as part of their village. There can be evil and treachery in the hearts of many people, no matter the color of their skin. That part of the world saddens me.” He pressed his hand against her stomach. “I’d protect the bairn from all of it if I could.”
“We’ll protect him together.” Ophelia smiled.
“Or her.” Euan chuckled. “I rather like the thought of teaching her to ride.”
“I would like to see that.” She couldn’t help the yawn that escaped her.
Euan stood and lifted her into his arms. “Time for one of those naps we encourage our children to take.”
“You have to stop carrying me everywhere.” Her voice was amused. “As the baby grows, I’ll be heavier.”
Euan pressed a kiss on her lips. “I will continue to carry you until my back screams in protest.”
She laid her head against his shoulder as he carried her up the stairs. “That’s a very nice way of saying I’ll be fat.”
“Lush and voluptuous,” he murmured. “Carrying my child.”
By the time he got her out of her dress and into bed with just her nightgown, Ophelia was already drowsy. When her head hit the pillow, she was asleep almost instantly. Euan looked down at his sleeping wife and caressed her cheek. The fates gave him a second chance and for that he thanked them. This time he wouldn’t lose a love to the sycophants and prejudiced people of the world. He wouldn’t leave broken because living in the same house haunted him with memories. This would be their home, where he would stand firm, and by God, his family would be protected at all costs.