11
The soft aroma of white camellias emanated from garlands draping the mantel. Brilliant candlelight reflected off the gold bee pattern on the walls, giving the room a romantic feel. Madeline reclined on a white bench in the middle of the parlour. Aunt had her wretched crutch painted ivory to blend into the setting. It lay against the back of the chair announcing “crippled wife.”
She closed her eyes for a moment. The earl’s love would cherish her. He didn’t care about her infirmities.
Madeline twisted the earl’s pearl necklace around her pinkie. Having it hung on her neck made her more comfortable with the dress. The gown covered everything like Aunt said, but it didn’t possess Madeline’s style. The cream gown fit tight, and it strangled her about the bosom. Shimmering pearl buttons adorned the sleeves. Aunt had them added as a finishing touch to match the earl’s gift.
She loved her shimmering gloves. They were long and fairy-like with shiny stitches. She waved her palm in the air. The Delveaux family ring with its large ruby contrasted well with the off-white fabric. Lord Devonshire would touch her hand during the ceremony. A nervous tingle raced her spine. She slipped her thumbs along the pearl necklace.
The painted door swung open, and a man in his early twenties with reddish-brown hair entered the room. “My lord wanted you to have these,” he presented yellow and white acacias.
Madeline hesitated to touch the flowers. This marriage was really happening.
“They’re for the ceremony, ma’am,” he said.
She took the small bouquet. “Thank you.”
“The name is Winton, ma’am. Jonathan Winton. I’m the earl’s steward.”
“Pleased…I’m pleased to meet you.” She wished her voice hadn’t squeaked.
Mr. Winton bowed. “Be at ease, Miss St. James. My lord is a good man.”
She looked at the door. “Where is the earl?”
“He’s with Reverend Delveaux.”
Madeline traced the delicate petals. “The earl’s brother?”
“No, ma’am.” Mr. Winton wiped his forehead. He looked disturbed. “The earl’s brother is deceased. Reverend Delveaux is his cousin. They are waiting for the vicar of Leicestershire. Excuse me.” Mr. Winton bowed and left the room.
Waiting with a reverend for the vicar…Justain didn’t seem to have a reverence for God, but he did endure all those biblical tales she told in the mineshaft. Madeline sniffed her flowers, savouring this moment of peace.
The world slowed to a crawl when the crimson door opened again. The vicar in his green and white robe swept to the fireplace in front of Madeline. Behind him were Mr. Winton, Lord Devonshire, and a man with striking blue eyes. It had to be his cousin.
The earl sat next to Madeline on the bench while the reverend strolled to his left. Lord Devonshire placed an open palm in her direction and motioned with his gaze.
She complied and rested her hand in his.
“Dearly belov’d,” the vicar began beneath his white whiskers. “We are gather’d together here in the sight of God…”
Madeline quieted her knees beneath her skirts. Perhaps, she should’ve taken some of Dr. White’s medicine to calm her anxiety.
She glanced at Justain. The earl’s cravat was immaculate as was his azure jacket and ivory waistcoat. He was very handsome.
“Young lady! Young lady do you consent?” the vicar asked.
Aunt looked as if she were about to faint.
“Wilt thou have this man to thy wedd’d husband, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of matr’mony?” His thick Welsh accent grated her eardrum.
The earl gave her hand a little squeeze.
“Yes,” Madeline replied and wove her fingers between his.
The vicar continued, “Wilt thou obey him, and serve him, love, honour, and keep him in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?
“I will.”
The vicar took Madeline’s other hand and placed it in Lord Devonshire’s.
She took a deep breath as the earl began to repeat the minister’s mumbled words. “I, Justain Meriton Devonshire, take thee, Madeline Angelique St. James, to my wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward…” His voice was strong and clear as if he addressed parliament. “And thereto I plight thee my troth.”
She held the earl’s gaze and hoped he could read her mind. He must see her solemn promise to trust him and to learn to love him.
Lord Devonshire looked away as the vicar gave him more instructions. The earl repeated, “I thee wed, with my body I thee worship, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow.” The way he pronounced each syllable with a crisp pitch convinced her. He loved her. God must make her worthy of his heart.
Before the minister could finish, the earl’s cousin interrupted. “There’s a special exchange that occurs for all the earls of Devon whose nuptials fall before their twenty-eighth birthday.” Reverend Delveaux took the onyx ring from Lord Devonshire’s right hand and replaced it with a gold signet bearing combined stones of onyx and ruby within the crest. “The family lands are again unified within the house of Delveaux. May the blessings of God be upon the earl and his bride.” Lord Devonshire seemed more animated, rolling the ring about his finger.
A veil tore from Madeline’s eyes. It wasn’t reverence, but land. A wave of discontentment ripped through her. Yet, he may still love her.
The vicar took charge again. “And they shall remain in perfect love and peace togeth’r, and live accordin’ to thy laws, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.”
The old man separated their hands, mumbled something then took Madeline’s hand and gave it to the earl. “Those whom God hath joined together let no man put asund’r.” He lifted their linked fingers, “I pronounce that they be man and wife together, in the Name of the Fath’r, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen!”
The deed was done. The dark cadence of the minister announced a litany of blessing about the procreation of children, about living together in honesty and fidelity under God.
The earl gripped her shoulders. His eyes widened as he drew her close. Defiance swam in those sky-blue pools. His intent was clear, to mark her to all the witnesses as his property like his lands. Madeline shut her eyelids and waited for Lord Devonshire’s kiss.