Chapter Twenty-Nine

“It’s not too late to change your mind,” Riya told Eliza earnestly. “The ship leaves for India tomorrow morning. It would be a fitting end to my own saga, don’t you think? I ran to England to escape my marriage, and now you can run away to India to escape yours. We can even visit our friends in Egypt.”

“You did not escape your marriage, dearest. All you did was delay it for a while.” Eliza patted her friend on the arm. “I fear the same would be true for me, as well. Wessex, of a certainty, would not endure the discomfort of ocean travel to bring me home again, but he would send a man to do the job, and we would find ourselves here, just like this, a year or so later.”

It was a Wednesday, an auspicious day for a wedding, according to superstition. St. George’s was stuffed full with their dearly beloved…and several dozen strangers. Dukes and duchesses, marquesses and marchionesses, earls and countesses, all donned in their finest to witness the Duke of Wessex finally wed. Even the Prince Regent himself was in attendance.

Eliza stood in the vestibule with Riya. Any moment now, her brother would arrive to walk her down the aisle and hand her over to Sebastian, who would forevermore be her lord and master. An odd thought, and one she preferred not to dwell upon.

The door opened and Alice swept through it, looking lovely in a silk dress of deep purple. Adelaide, in pale blue, was close behind.

“Dearest, you are the most gorgeous bride that ever was.” Alice embraced her gently, taking care not to wrinkle Eliza’s gown. “But it’s not too late to change your mind. My carriage is just outside.”

Eliza laughed. “My gown is too beautiful to waste. I fear I must go through with it.”

It was, without question, a splendid gown. Ivory silk overlaid with silver net, and more silver lace trimmed thickly at the hem and bust. Sleeves that fell daintily to her elbows in defiance of the snowflakes that fell outside. She wore no veil, but small sapphires gleamed darkly in her hair.

Alice pulled back to study her. When she was satisfied, she gave a small shrug of her shoulders. “Do you know, I’m really very fond of Wessex. He was so helpful in bringing Abingdon and me together.”

“Was he?” Eliza asked.

“Oh, yes. He told me I was being a fool, though he was kind about it.”

Eliza laughed again. That was very like him, both the scolding and the kindness.

“My only qualm comes not from the man, but from the marriage itself.” Alice hesitated, a small furrow marring her brow. “You have always professed that your path lay elsewhere. It is not only that you have never wanted this, but that you have feared it, as well.”

Eliza looked down at her wedding bouquet. Orange blossoms from Sebastian’s orangery. “I am still afraid. I had hoped to escape the fate of my mothers, but it seems that women will be forced along this journey whether we wish it or no. Not,” she added hastily, upon noting that Alice’s eyes had narrowed to dangerous slits, “that Wessex has coerced me in any way. I am here of my own choosing.” Her own mistake, rather. “But when the whole world has determined a set path, it proves very difficult to forge one’s own. Do not be unhappy for me, darling. I have not succumbed entirely to society’s demands, and I have made a few of my own.”

Alice squeezed her hands. “I do hope you will be very happy, Eliza. I truly believe you will be.”

“Why, of course she will be!” Aunt Mabel said, causing Alice to let out a startled yelp. “My dearest niece, I can tell you this with absolute assurance, there is no better man for you. I have watched you both since the very beginning of your friendship. You have not always seen me, dear girl, but I have always seen you.”

With this startling pronouncement, she waved her arms to guide her friends forward. “Come now, we must find our seats. Sir John is here.”

As she spoke, the door opened, and John was indeed there. Eliza blinked. Perhaps Aunt Mabel was not as blind and deaf as everyone believed.

Riya, Alice, Adelaide, and Aunt Mabel hurried out, each dropping a kiss on Eliza’s upturned cheek as they went. Music swelled, and her brother took her arm and wove it through his. They walked together down the center aisle, each step bringing her closer to her future husband.

Sebastian looked at her as she first approached, his jaw slackened, and he swiftly looked away again. His hand trembled slightly as he pressed it to his breast pocket. His gaze remained fixedly on his boots and he did not look up again until she was beside him.

“Dearly beloved,” the archbishop intoned.

He followed that with a lot of words that Eliza had heard often but somehow could never remember. A strange numbness settled on her soul. She felt outside of herself somehow, as though she were watching another woman be joined in holy matrimony.

And then he came to the final vows.

“Wilt thou have this woman to thy wedded wife, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of matrimony? Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honor, and keep her in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?”

Odd how Sebastian looked entirely in earnest when he said solemnly, “I will.”

She said the same, her mouth so dry that the words sounded dusty.

They turned to face each other, and Sebastian took her hand in his. “I, Sebastian, take thee, Eliza, to my wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for 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.”

She came back to herself with a start. What was it she was supposed to say? “I, Eliza, take thee, Sebastian…” Well, she knew their names, at least. “to my wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, cherish…”

She was suddenly aware of an odd movement of his hand holding hers, rubbing and moving her fingers. She glanced down at their clasped hands and saw that he had crossed her middle finger over her index finger.

She bit back a giggle and completed the vows. “And to obey, till death us do part, according to God’s holy ordinance; and thereto I give thee my troth.”

She sneaked a glance and found his dark eyes sparkling with amusement. He understood that she would do no such thing as obey. His lips quirked at the shared joke.

“With this ring I thee wed, with my body I thee worship, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow.” He slid the ring on her finger, binding them to each other.

She stared at the gleaming circlet, and her heart stuttered painfully in her chest.

It was done. She was married.