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Chapter 16

As the group entered Tabitha's bedroom, the quiet murmur of concern was palpable. The room, usually bright and filled with the sounds of Tabitha's indomitable spirit, now resonated with a soft tranquility centered around the bed, where she lay propped up by pillows, her eyes open but tired.

Tabitha's gaze brightened somewhat as she saw the family file in. A weak smile graced her lips as she scanned the familiar faces, each reflecting a blend of worry and love.

"Ah, my dears," she began, her voice a frail echo of its usual vigor. "What a fuss I seem to have caused. Come here, and let me look at you all."

James stepped forward first, taking her hand gently in his. "Tabitha, you've given us quite the scare," he said, his voice tinged with gentle reproof but underlying warmth. "How are you feeling now?"

"I'm feeling as well as can be expected under the circumstances, James," she replied, squeezing his hand. "Tired, but it's so good to see you all."

As the others offered their quiet greetings and words of encouragement, Tabitha's eyes lingered on each face, drawing comfort from their presence.

After a few moments, she turned her attention back to James, her gaze serious. "James, could I speak with you, along with Lady Hillsfolk and Benedict? There are matters we need to discuss, and I would appreciate some privacy."

Understanding her request, the rest of the group, including Andrew and Marianne, excused themselves quietly, leaving the room with backward glances filled with concern.

Once the room had cleared, James, Lady Hillsfolk, and Benedict gathered closer around Tabitha's bed. Her pale face was drawn, but her eyes were clear and determined, reflecting the strength of will that had characterized her entire life.

"James, Veronica, Benedict," Tabitha started, her tone firm despite her physical weakness. "I know my health has taken a turn, and while I hope to recover, we must be practical. We had a wedding planned, and I think it should go on as scheduled."

Lady Hillsfolk and Benedict exchanged a quick, concerned look.

"Mother, are you sure?" Lady Hillsfolk asked softly. "We can easily postpone things until you're feeling better. There's no need to rush."

Tabitha shook her head slightly. "No, my dear. I want to see this family united further, and what better way than through the union of Andrew and Marianne? They are ready, and I believe it will bring joy not only to me but to all of us in these troubling times."

James nodded slowly, his expression contemplative. "Tabitha, are you certain this is what you want? It's a lot for you to handle right now."

"Yes, James, I am sure," she insisted. "Seeing Andrew and Marianne married would be a great comfort to me. I want to know they are settled and happy."

Benedict, who had been listening intently, finally spoke. "If this is truly your wish, we will make it happen. And we'll ensure everything is arranged so that it doesn't strain you further."

"Thank you, Benedict," Tabitha said, a trace of relief in her voice. "That's all I ask."

Lady Hillsfolk leaned in, kissing her on the forehead. "We'll take care of everything. You just focus on getting better."

James stayed by her side a moment longer, his rugged face softening. "Tabitha, your strength continues to inspire us all. We'll respect your wishes and see to it that the wedding brings nothing but happiness."

With the matter decided, the trio quietly reaffirmed their plans. They would proceed with the wedding, ensuring that every detail was handled with the utmost care to minimize any disruption or stress to Tabitha.

As Lady Hillsfolk and Benedict left the room to start the preparations, James lingered for a moment longer, holding Tabitha's hand. "You've built a strong family, Tabitha," he said softly. "We'll make sure your legacy of love and unity is honored this weekend."

With that, he exited, leaving Tabitha to rest with thoughts of the upcoming celebrations—a mix of family unity and personal contentment threading through her mind despite the shadows of her health concerns.

* * *

In the dimly lit corridor outside Tabitha's room, the family gathered, a sense of anxious anticipation hanging thick in the air. The hushed whispers ceased as James emerged, his countenance reflecting a somber gravity that commanded everyone's attention.

"Everyone, please," he began, his voice resonant and sure, drawing the eyes of Andrew, Marianne, Peggy, and the rest of the assembled family members. "Tabitha has made a request, and after careful consideration with Lady Hillsfolk and Benedict, we have agreed that it's best to honor her wishes."

Marianne felt a knot tighten in her stomach, her hands instinctively seeking out Andrew's. They exchanged a fleeting glance, both sets of eyes brimming with a mix of concern and an unspoken question about the impending revelation.

James continued, "Despite the recent health scare, Tabitha insists—and we concur—that the wedding should proceed this weekend as originally planned."

A ripple of surprise and murmurs swept through the room. Andrew's brow furrowed, the weight of the decision pressing down upon him, his earlier apprehensions resurfacing with renewed intensity.

"But, Lord James," Marianne interjected, her voice trembling slightly with the effort to remain composed, "given Grandmother's condition, isn't it prudent to delay? We can wait until?—"

James raised a hand, signaling for silence, his expression softening. "I understand your concerns, Marianne. Truly, I do. But your grandmother is adamant. She believes that seeing you two married will give her peace and joy in this trying time. She needs this… we need this."

Andrew, feeling their eyes on him, took a deep breath. "It's not that we don't want to marry," he started, his voice steady, despite the turmoil within. "But under these circumstances, it feels rushed—forced, even. Are we sure this is the right thing to do?"

Lady Hillsfolk stepped forward, her presence a comforting force. "My dear children," she said, addressing Andrew and Marianne directly, "I understand your hesitations. But sometimes, life asks us to move faster than we'd like. Your union will bring this family together and give your grandmother a great deal of happiness. This isn't just about a ceremony—it's about family, love, and legacy."

Her words, spoken with heartfelt sincerity, seemed to resonate deeply with everyone present.

Peggy, always the spirited supporter, nodded in agreement, her voice gentle yet firm. "Let's do this for Grandmother. She's done so much for all of us. It's time we gave her this joy."

The room fell silent as everyone pondered Lady Hillsfolk's words. Marianne looked at Andrew, her eyes searching his for strength. Andrew, in turn, squeezed her hand, a silent pledge of support, no matter the doubts that clouded his mind.

"Very well," Marianne finally said, her voice a soft echo of resolve. "We shall tie the knot this weekend, so Grandmother's wishes are honored. We'll celebrate her and everything that she means to us."

Andrew gave a nod of agreement. "We'll make it a day of joy," he said, but his tight voice revealed his unresolved worries.

James, clearly relieved, gave a slight smile that broke the tension as he softly clapped his hands together. "Wonderful, it's resolved. This next weekend will be the wedding. Let's make it a party befitting the tenacity and affection of this family."

The family eventually regrouped and went about their chores and preparations. With their hands still clasped, Marianne and Andrew stayed in the hallway, finding solace in one other's company.

"Are we acting appropriately?" Marianne whispered, staring at the ground.

Gently lifting her chin with his fingers, Andrew met her gaze. "Given the situation, we are doing all within our power. We have vowed to confront this together. And together, we'll deal with whatever arises."

Plans and preparations, a combination of practical measures and common worries, flowed into their discourse. Beneath the discussion of flowers, visitors, and music, however, there was an unspoken understanding—a realization of the seriousness of their choice for the sake of their beloved grandmother, whose heart kept the family together, and for their sakes as well.

Their movements were measured, but it was obvious they were determined as they made their way back to the others.

Not only were they moving towards marriage, but they were also fulfilling a long-held desire and strengthening their relationship with their family as a whole.

* * *

The sole source of light in the otherwise pitch-black estate was the flickering candles that had been positioned thoughtfully throughout the hallways to light the path for any late-night explorers. As Marianne walked to Andrew's chamber, her heart pounded in her chest. Her fingers faltered on the doorknob, doubting her choice to speak at this time due to the weight of their impending marriage and the complicated feelings it evoked. Still, she twisted the handle and pushed the door open, and saw Andrew sitting beside the window.

Andrew looked up, surprise registering on his features for a moment before his expression softened. "Marianne? Is everything all right?"

She stepped inside, closing the door behind her. "I couldn't sleep. We need to talk, Andrew."

He nodded, patting the space beside him. As she sat down, the air between them was thick with unspoken words.

Andrew broke the silence first, his voice low. "Today has been overwhelming, hasn't it? I… I've never felt so welcomed and part of a family as I have with yours. It's something I've missed terribly since my parents passed."

Marianne listened, her heart aching for him and the loneliness he had endured. "Your presence has brought so much joy into our home, Andrew. You're already part of the family, no matter what happens this weekend."

The mention of the wedding made her voice falter, leading her to the fear that had been gnawing at her.

"I'm scared, Andrew," she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. "Scared of the unknown. Like at the lake… I've been postponing getting married because I don't know how to be a wife, how to build a life with someone."

Andrew reached out, taking her hand in his. "Marianne, we're in this together. We'll learn, grow, and face these fears as a team. That's what marriage should be about, right?"

Tears welled up in her eyes as she nodded, the dam of her emotions breaking at his words. "I don't want to lose Grandmother," she sobbed softly. "She's everything to me."

Andrew pulled her into his embrace, offering the comfort of his presence. "I know, I know. And she loves you so much. We'll make her proud, Marianne."

As they held each other, Andrew's fears surfaced, his voice muffled as he spoke into her hair. "I still feel so terrible about the lies, about the deceit. After the wedding, how do we get out of this without hurting everyone?"

Marianne stiffened in his arms, his words piercing her newly formed bubble of comfort. She pulled back slightly, searching his face. "Are you asking how we can avoid getting married?" she asked, a tremor in her voice.

Andrew, seeing the hurt in her eyes, realized his words had been misunderstood. "No, I mean?—"

But Marianne was already withdrawing, her mind racing with the implications of his question. "If it comes to that, we can annul the marriage," she said quickly, a defensive edge to her voice.

Her heart was breaking, the fear that he didn't share her feelings—feelings she hadn't fully admitted even to herself—was overwhelming her.

She stood up abruptly, needing to escape, to breathe. "I should go," she muttered, blinking back tears as she turned towards the door.

Andrew rose too, his mind reeling from the sudden shift. "Marianne, wait, please," he called after her, but she was already out the door, her steps quickening as she left him standing in a room that was too vast and empty now.

Standing alone, Andrew felt a pang of realization—the clarity of his feelings cutting through the confusion like a beacon. He didn't want an annulment. He didn't want any way out that didn't include Marianne by his side.

He made his way to the door, determined to find her, to explain, to make things right. The weight of his revelation was heavy on his shoulders—he couldn't let her go, not like this.

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