Chapter Ten

O n a sunny day in late June, Arabella Canning and George Kirkland stood before the altar rail at St. Mark’s Church and vowed to “love, honor, and keep each other in sickness and in health.”

There was something simultaneously dreamlike and mundane about the wedding ceremony. The church itself was a familiar space, smelling of beeswax, old wood, and cool stone. Mr. Kirkland’s rich, clear speaking voice filled the small sanctuary as loudly as it ever did. There were only a handful of people in the congregation today, but most of them were people whom Arabella had known all her life.

Other things made the day seem as ordinary as any other. While Arabella listened to Mr. Kirkland leading the congregation in prayer, she noticed an enormous horsefly buzzing around the sanctuary. Its rapid movement back and forth, up and down, kept drawing her eyes, distracting her from the momentous ceremony taking place. It distracted George, too. His eyes followed the fly around the room until his father cleared his voice and gave his son a pointed look. Then George snapped to attention. She did her best to focus, too, but part of her wanted to giggle at the way the insect brazenly interrupted what was supposed to be a solemn moment.

At first, Arabella had been afraid she would stammer and stumble her way through the vows, since she felt painfully conscious of all the people watching her. But before Mr. Kirkland began reading the marriage service, George leaned over and whispered in her ear, “Just pretend it’s a play, like the ones we put on when we were children. You were always the best actress!”

Arabella drew a deep breath. George was right: she had always been good at reading aloud, telling stories, or acting a part. Speaking did not pose the same difficulties when she had a script to follow. She took her betrothed’s advice and pretended that she stood on a stage, performing for her audience. It worked perfectly. She did not flub a single line, and her voice rang out clearly in the little church.

She kept up the act as she and George exited the church, accompanied by the sound of church bells. This part of the performance was easier because she did not even have to speak. She merely smiled and waved at the handful of villagers and tenants who made up most of the congregation.

George handed her into the carriage, then turned to throw a handful of shiny coins at the little crowd milling about the entrance to the church. This elicited a cheer. But the crowd cheered even more when George turned back to Arabella and gave her a hearty kiss on the cheek.

Her face flushed and she turned her head away, embarrassed. Though family members and friends might sometimes greet each other with a kiss on the cheek or hand, she knew very well that kisses between lovers were supposed to be saved for private moments. Were the rules different on one’s wedding day? Perhaps brides and grooms enjoyed a dispensation from the usual rules against public displays of affection. She hoped so.

The carriage began to roll the short distance from the church to Oliphant Hall. George stopped waving and covered Arabella’s hand with his own. “In case I haven’t said it yet, you look beautiful today. Those violets on your dress match your eyes.”

Arabella did not stop blushing, but the corners of her mouth turned up. She glanced down at her white muslin gown. Embroidered violets bordered the neckline and sleeves, and the skirt displayed the flounces that had become so popular. Her seamstress had put the dress together almost overnight, based on the measurements from her last fitting. Such speed must have cost a good deal of money, but Mama refused to admit how much. She would only say that Arabella deserved a new dress for her wedding day.

“My eyes are blue, not purple.” If her goal had been to choose embroidery that matched her eyes, forget-me-nots would have been a better choice.

“Well, purple or blue, the color suits you,” George said cheerfully. “And now we are married!”

“It doesn’t seem real yet,” Arabella admitted. Today, she had irrevocably bound herself to another human being. Nothing would be the same after this, whether for good or for bad. And yet, she felt the same as she did yesterday. Shouldn’t the world feel different now?

“You could pinch me to find out if it’s a dream,” George suggested.

Arabella giggled, covering her mouth to hide the unladylike laughter. “That might prove that you were not dreaming, but it would not prove that I am not dreaming. You would have to pinch me back to make sure of that.”

“Pinch a lady? Never!” Mock horror infused George’s voice, and when she met his gaze, his grin broadened. “If this is a dream, it is a pleasant one.” But the smile in his eyes slowly faded, replaced by unfamiliar intensity. He tipped her chin up with one finger, and before she understood what he meant to do, he kissed her on the lips.

Or rather, attempted to do so. Unfortunately, he misjudged the angle and crashed into the wide rim of Arabella’s straw bonnet. It nearly knocked his own hat off.

Arabella burst into a fit of giggles. Once she got herself under control, she scolded her husband. “You shouldn’t do that in public, anyway. People might see.”

George snorted. “No one would be the least surprised to see a bride and groom kissing on the way home after their wedding! But if you prefer, I will wait until we are in private to kiss you.” An unusually wolfish smile crept across his face. “I look forward to being alone with you, my wife.”

A shiver composed of equal parts anticipation and anxiety ran down Arabella’s spine, as she suspected George had more than kissing in mind. He was probably thinking about the wedding night. Contemplating that prospect made her own heart beat faster.

Yesterday, after Arabella tried on the wedding dress for the last time, her mother sat down with her and spoke very seriously about Marital Duties. Arabella had known a fair amount about human reproduction, but she nevertheless learned a few rather surprising facts about what men and women did together in bed.

George’s innuendo now filled Arabella’s mind with images that still seemed downright scandalous, despite the ceremony that had just concluded. Picturing what it might be like to go to bed with George flustered her so much that she looked away from him, pretending to admire scenery she’d seen hundreds of times. In reality, she wondered what his hands would feel like on her body. What his body would feel like pressed against hers. What—

“I hope you are not worried about the wedding breakfast,” George suggested. “I know you don’t like large parties, but this time you know all the guests. There is no need to feel shy.”

Arabella had not worried about the breakfast until he reminded her about it. “I will be fine!” All she had to do was keep up her performance as the Gracious and Lovely Bride. Hopefully, she could maintain the act for a few more hours.

As it turned out, George was right that she had nothing to fear. Like the wedding itself, the breakfast afterward was a family affair. Apart from Arabella and George’s parents, the only other guests were the Grays. Caroline’s family had traveled up to Derbyshire with Arabella so they could celebrate the marriage. Caroline seemed in excellent health, but Leland, still anxious about the possibility of a miscarriage, protectively hovered around her every time she got out of her chair.

That could be me in a few months , Arabella thought, and froze. She sat holding a fork in the air, stunned by the realization of how much her life was going to change.

“Belle? Is something wrong?” George pitched his voice softly, so none of the happily chattering guests around them heard.

“I am not hungry anymore.” She put her fork down, its bite of wedding cake untasted. Instead, she took a sip of sweet white wine. That helped settle her stomach. Then someone leaned across the table to ask her a question. In answering it, she forgot about her momentary bewilderment.

She spent most of the breakfast performing the part of a blissfully happy young bride, but the mask broke when her mother hugged her as they said good-bye. She could not act when in her mother’s arms.

Mama stepped back from the embrace and wiped her eyes with a dainty scrap of handkerchief. “I can’t believe I am losing my daughter already.” Her smile quavered as she blinked back tears.

Arabella stared at her in confusion. Not two months ago, her mother had bewailed Arabella’s spinster status and rhetorically wondered what she would do with a daughter who couldn’t say boo to a goose. Shouldn’t Mama be glad that Arabella was finally married? Now her parents could focus all their attention on launching Lavinia into society. Wasn’t that what they wanted?

“I thought you would be happy that I finally got married,” Arabella said.

“Oh, sweetheart!” Her mother pulled her into a hug so tight it threatened to destroy Arabella’s new bonnet. “I am happy! I’m delighted that you will finally have a home of your own! But we will miss you so much.”

Papa embraced her next. There were no tears running down his face, but he had flushed an alarming shade of red. That could have been a result of too much wine, but Arabella suspected it had more to do with strong emotions.

While he had her wrapped in a tight hug, Papa whispered: “Remember, Belle, you can always come back home if you need to.”

Arabella’s eyes widened and her mouth fell ajar. Why on earth would she need to come home? She could not imagine George mistreating her. Annoying her with his impulsiveness, perhaps. But harming her? No.

She had no chance to ask her father for clarification, as George was waiting to assist her into the carriage they’d borrowed for the first leg of the journey. After their first stage, they would travel by hired post chaise.

The carriage door swung shut, leaving Belle alone with her new husband. The situation still felt unreal. Maybe she should pinch herself, if George wasn’t willing to do it for her.

“Tired?” George rested his arm along the back of the seat, casually embracing her.

After all those tearful farewells, Arabella had to clear her throat before speaking. “A little.” But mostly, she felt peculiar. She sat alone with George Kirkland in a carriage, and for the first time in her life, there was nothing scandalous about their being alone together.

“Isn’t it strange?” she whispered.

“Isn’t what strange?” George wrinkled his forehead.

“Being married,” she explained. “Nothing will ever be the same again.”

His face cleared at once. “Ah, that. I suppose you’re right. But everything will be better now. Or at least, life won’t be any worse than before. If nothing else, marriage will be interesting.” He smiled at her. “It’s good to try new things, isn’t it? No doubt matrimony will prove very educational.”

Arabella’s mouth twitched. She pressed her lips together, trying to restrain a grin, but it broke out anyway. She would not have chosen the word “educational” to describe matrimony.

“What if we try it and don’t like it?” she asked. “Marriage vows can’t be undone.”

The smile faded from his eyes. “No,” he said more seriously. “The vows cannot be undone. But I am not your jailor. If you find you cannot live with me, you are free to go your own way. You need not fear that I will trap you in an unhappy situation.”

Arabella frowned. Separation was not as scandalous as divorce, but society looked down on husbands and wives who lived apart. “I suppose the same is true for you,” she replied. “If you are unhappy, I do not mean to hold you to your word.” What would happen, though, if they had children? That might complicate things.

“Why the frown? You ought not be unhappy on your wedding day.” George stroked her lower lip with a feather-light touch.

Arabella lifted her eyes. George’s warm brown eyes were soft with concern, and a line had formed between his brows. Her mouth slowly relaxed back into a smile. Then, feeling simultaneously affectionate and shy, she kissed the tip of his finger.

“Ah, that reminds me.” George’s eyes darkened as he leaned closer. “There was something I meant to do once we were alone.”

“Wha—oh!” Before she could even ask a question, he’d begun to fumble with the ribbon tying her bonnet on. When she realized what he intended, her heart sped up again. She untied the knot in the ribbon with shaky fingers so she could set the bonnet aside. Then she tipped her chin up to be kissed.

Arabella thought she knew what a kiss felt like. Now she discovered that she was mistaken. This time, when she opened her mouth a little, George slipped his tongue inside. She drew back, startled.

“What’s wrong?” For some reason, his voice sounded hoarse.

“I don’t know why you’re doing that,” she explained. In her experience, people generally kept their tongues to themselves.

He stared blankly at her. “Because it feels good?”

She wrinkled her nose. “It does?”

The corner of his mouth quirked up. “Why don’t we try it, and if you don’t like it, I will keep my tongue out of your mouth.” His smile turned into a smirk. “But I think you might like it.”

Arabella wasn’t so sure about that. But George was her husband now. Tonight, he would do even more intimate things than slipping his tongue into her mouth. She swallowed uneasily, but nodded. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to try,” she whispered.

When their lips met again, she opened her mouth to George, eager to explore the unfamiliar terrain of passion.