Chapter 4

Paul was used to seeing the world through the thick black veil protecting him, and he instantly noticed the three new arrivals. Skimming past his brother and his wife, his eye settled on the woman he was to marry. Instantly he noticed his was not the only veil between them, and he wasn’t sure why he felt disappointed at the limited first sight of her.

She was taller than he expected, nearly as tall as John, who was only a few inches shorter than Paul himself. And though she wore a capelet over her gown, he could tell her form was pleasing. Her hair, what he could see of it behind the veil and the ribbon holding what even he could tell was an artfully designed yellow bonnet—the exact shade of a bumblebee, especially with its accompanying black—was a mix of sand and gold, darker than Sarah’s hair but undeniably fetching.

None of which should matter, though he couldn’t deny he wished he could see her face.

He approached, in no particular hurry as he contemplated what was about to take place. He hadn’t any qualms about it while it was still just a favor for his brother and Sarah. But now, seeing there was a real live person attached, it suddenly seemed … important.

Reaching the little cluster of visitors, he took a place at his brother’s side rather than by his bride, who stood clutching Sarah’s hand as if she needed to be kept in place. That surprised him. It was for her benefit, after all, that this whole thing had been arranged.

“Reverend,” Paul said, choosing to greet him first out of pure consternation over how to greet the woman whose name, at least, would forever be linked to his.

Reverend DeWeis filled the black garb of a minister to perfection. Tall, dignified, a thatch of silver hair complementing the figure he cut as a man to be trusted, respected, sought for advice. On the few occasions Paul made it to church, he was always impressed with the man’s dedication to his flock.

Just now, however, rather than the traditional smile with which he normally greeted Paul on his rare visits, the man turned to him with a frown.

“Your brother came to me yesterday with the most extraordinary request to be here by one o’clock, with a marriage license I am to file, prepared to wed you to a woman this very day.” Turning to include the woman in his attention, he added, “And I surmise this is the woman you are to wed.”

“Yes, it’s true,” Paul said and would have continued but John jabbed him in the shoulder.

“Would you take off that blasted beekeeper’s hat!”

Paul had nearly forgotten he wore it, but realized he likely looked silly in it now. He pulled off the hat, then the gloves one-by-one, and tossed them to the wrought-iron bench he frequented when waiting for new visitors to his flowers.

For some unexpected reason he only managed a quick glance in his bride’s direction, unaccountably wondering what she might think of the face of her husband. It was, after all, more information than he had of her. All he could tell was that her nose wasn’t overlarge, because the veil didn’t protrude much. For all he could see she didn’t have a nose at all.

Reverend DeWeis looked between Paul and his bride. Virginia. Her name floated easily to his mind, a name he suddenly found himself liking.

“Am I to understand this is an arranged marriage in every sense of the word, then?” the reverend asked.

“Yes,” Paul said, “you could call it that.” What more did the man need to know? He must perform weddings of all kinds; surely this wasn’t the first couple he’d joined that he didn’t personally know very well.

The minister eyed him suspiciously, but soon let his gaze travel farther from the garden to include the house and fields in the distance, easily spotted from their somewhat elevated height. “I understand your desire to leave a legacy, Mr. Turnbridge. You’ve been blessed with much and no doubt want the future of this fine estate to stay in the family. However, it’s my habit to meet with the couples I marry, to interview them so to speak. There is the matter of being unequally yoked that I’d like to avoid. I’ll not put my blessing on a couple the Lord does not see fit to be joined in the ministry of life.”

Paul clasped his hands behind his back, wondering just how honest he was expected to be. Surely John had told the man the conditions of the agreement when he’d set up this ceremony? Why was the minister so intent on details like knowing whether or not he and his prospective wife were matched with similar faith?

“Reverend DeWeis,” he said slowly, considering his words before letting each one out and purposely avoiding the gaze from his bride, “as you know I am unconventional in my faith.” He lifted his hand to indicate the beauty of nature surrounding them. “I can more easily worship God from this cathedral right under His sky than I could in the far more humble building you call a church. But rest assured I submit to the authority of God in three persons, Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.”

The reverend turned to the bride. “And you, young lady?”

Virginia could barely tear her gaze from the man who seemed to be purposely avoiding hers. He was like John, and yet so different. Taller, of course, which pleased her, because so many men reached her nose and not beyond. And John was certainly handsome, with his wavy dark hair and watchful eyes. But this man had something else in his eyes, a sort of soulfulness she hadn’t seen in John that couldn’t help but catch her attention.

None of which mattered, of course. Not even his height. This was the first and last day she would be seeing him.

Despite the truth behind their wedding ceremony, despite the sure knowledge that an heir to this lovely garden and beyond was most certainly not forthcoming from her—ever—she had no qualms about declaring the veracity of her faith.

“I am a Christian, Reverend, and strive to serve the God of the Bible because He first loved us. How could one not love a God who became man, suffered, and died, just so our blame-filled lives could be acceptable to a just and blameless Creator?”

The reverend, not surprisingly, seemed more pleased with her answer than he had with Paul’s a moment ago, but evidently both answers passed his test. Still, he did not lift the little prayer book already in his hand, which likely held the vows they were about to exchange.

“Arranged marriages are often the most fulfilling,” he said, “simply because both parties come to the union with few misconceptions of the other’s humanity. In other words, you won’t be blinded by a veil of love, but rather come together and let life mold your teamwork more naturally. I do hope, Mr. Turnbridge, that you will be able to attend the humbler cathedral that is my church now that you will have a wife who will no doubt want to keep up her training in the Word of God?”

The crooked smile on Paul’s face made Virginia’s heart skip a beat. My, but he was handsome. Why had he never married, if only to provide that heir the minister had just proclaimed him in need of?

“I shall continue to send in my tithe, Reverend DeWeis, which I’m sure you will be happy enough to see without me. Beyond that, I will make no promises, lest any promise could be broken.”

Virginia’s heart, so shallow and eager to jump at the recognition of a handsome face, now skidded to a halt. He might believe in God, but how could he grow in knowledge of spiritual matters if he wasn’t willing to go to church and be tutored by those who made study of the Bible their mission in life? And what of joining in worship with others, in community, to join a choir of no less than angels to sing and celebrate God’s blessings?

Though the minister raised his book at last, he put a hand on Virginia’s shoulder and spoke as if commissioning her to action. “Perhaps you, my dear, will have more success than I in bringing this believer under a real church roof.”

Then, without delay, he began the heavenly work of binding two souls into one by the power of holy matrimony.