Chapter 19

CHAPTER NINETEEN

The Wedding Day

“ W hat do you mean you do not love him?” Helena asked, her pretty face drawn with concern.

Barbara drew in a ragged breath, her chest feeling as if it were on fire, and she pressed a hand there tightly. She had tried, tried so hard to just push herself through to the end. But now, only an hour away from her wedding, she had begun to unravel, and was now panicking.

“How can I love him?” she asked through gasping breaths, pacing wildly. “I do not know him. This is it. My spinsterhood, my freedom, it is all about to be gone.”

Tears pricked her eyes as her panic heightened, and she raised her eyes to see Lydia giving her a compassionate look.

Lydia knew. Barbara knew her friend knew the truth, even if she had not ever said it. It was not Kenneth she wanted to marry.

“You must calm yourself,” Alice soothed, taking Barbara’s arm to slow her down.

She began to draw soothing circles on the back of her wedding dress, and Barbara drew in a shaky breath.

“Here, drink something,” Alice instructed next, beckoning over a servant holding a tray.

Barbara picked up the first cup, not even bothering to see which one, and downed it one gulp. Her empty stomach burned and rebelled as sweet red wine trickled down her throat.

It had been over a day since she had last eaten, her nerves making it impossible. The burning passed, though, and once she realized she would not vomit, a wave of calm washed over her, and she sighed as she collapsed onto the nearby sofa.

“Why do you want to do this if you do not want to marry him?” Helena asked softly, flanking her left side while Alice flanked her right. “Barbara, if you are this nervous, perhaps it is your soul telling you this is a bad idea.”

It is a bad idea, Barbara wanted to say.

Even if it would solve everyone’s problems, it was still a bad idea.

“I have to do this,” she said instead, clutching onto the brief calm that had enveloped her.

“Ladies,” Lydia called suddenly, shooting Alice and Helena a kind smile. “Would you mind giving us two old spinsters a moment alone? I believe I may have the remedy.”

Soft but tense laughter left Alice and Helena’s lips, and they rose as they nodded.

“We shall go check on the priest and the other attendees,” Alice offered, leading Helena to the door. “We shall be back in a moment.”

Barbara nodded to them appreciatively, and as the door closed, Lydia strode toward her and took her hands in her own.

“Well, now, my love, you give me the word, and I shall arrange for a carriage and get out of here this instant,” she said decisively, squeezing Barbara’s hands.

Barbara let out a weak laugh and laid her head on her friend’s shoulder, and then unable to hold back anymore, she let her tears fall.

Lydia cooed and shushed her softly. “This is not just about giving up your spinsterhood, is it? It is about Ambrose.”

Barbara stiffened, her tears ceasing immediately as she pulled out of Lydia’s grasp and looked at her with a tired smile.

“So, you did know,” she breathed.

Lydia gave her a sad smile. “Not at first. I had some suspicions only a couple of weeks ago. Then, the day Kenneth proposed in the village, I saw him. Saw the way his smirk vanished and a look of dread unlike any other came across his face. When… when did it start?”

Barbara wanted to tell her, she wanted to tell her friend everything from start to finish, but to do so would reveal the secrets of so many others, and she could not bring herself to do that.

“It has not been going on for long,” she said, willing to share that much. “We did—did not know what to do about it. We hated each other, and then we…”

She looked at Lydia helplessly, and her friend only gave her a knowing nod.

“And he… he does not feel the same way?” Lydia asked timidly.

Heartache consumed Barbara as she silently shook her head no. No. Obviously not. Not if she was about to walk down the aisle toward another man.

She drew in a deep breath, feeling a little lighter now that she revealed a part of the truth, and rose from the sofa.

“It does not matter, though. Truly. I must resign myself to this marriage. Not just for me, but for my father—no, I will not speak more on that part,” she added when Lydia’s eyes filled with questions and her mouth began to open.

To her relief, Lydia obediently closed her mouth then stood up to smooth her hands down her dress. “Well then, if you are—may we say resolved instead of resigned, at least?” she asked, and Barbara nodded. “If you are resolved to follow this through, then I shall support you. But I demand that a permanent room be readied for me in your manor at Gerville. I shall warn you now that I will be visiting religiously.”

Barbara hugged her tightly and felt numbness spread through her body. She was ready. Kenneth would be a fine husband. Just fine.

“Are you ready?” Helena asked a moment later, poking her head inside the room.

Barbara pulled away from Lydia and gave Helena a smiling nod. Out in the hallway, Alice held her flowers out for her, and together the four of them walked to the parlor.

“Your Grace, I am sorry, but I cannot allow you in,” the man in a butler’s suit struggled to say as Ambrose walked right past him.

“I know the Hatchers do not have a butler,” Ambrose replied in a steely voice.

There was not enough time to argue with this man, not when everything in the earthly realm had seemed to try to stop him from getting to Barbara on time.

“I am Mister Hatchers’ valet, Your Grace, but I-”

“Sorry, old man,” Ambrose said over his shoulder.

“My lord, Mister Hatcher shall not like this!” Was all the man called after him...

Reuben is not the master of this home, nor is he a master of Barbara, Ambrose thought, striding toward closed doors to the study.

“Does anyone here object to these two people being joined together before the eyes of God?” Ambrose heard the priest ask through the closed double doors.

Knowing it was now or never, he threw open the door, and as clearly and loudly as possible, he stated, “I do.”

His heart hammered in his chest as his eyes landed on Barbara—she was a vision in a dusky purple wedding gown. Her left hand was clutched tightly in Kenneth’s, but her wide green eyes were focused on him.

“Your Grace?” Kenneth asked, his voice full of confusion as Ambrose began to stride toward them.

“Apologies, Kenneth,” Ambrose murmured, not even bothering to look at him as he focused on Barbara.

“What are you doing?” she hissed, that familiar, raw rage taking over her shock as her eyebrows knitted together.

“Setting things right,” Ambrose replied, taking her hands.

When she tried to pull away from him, he snatched her waist and pulled her away from the small, temporary dias.

“Get your hands off me!” she demanded, struggling against him.

“Ambrose, what are you doing?” Helena hissed, coming toward them. “When did you get back?”

“Take your hands off her this instant, Your Grace,” Josiah and Reuben growled nearly at the same time.

“Your Grace,” Kenneth spoke shakily, trying to push his much weaker body between Barbara and Ambrose, “I do not know what is going on, but this is-”

“Barbara, speak with me,” Ambrose implored his eyes only on her as chaos erupted around them.

Barbara’s eyes glittered with conflicting emotions as she stayed frozen in place.

“We have nothing to discuss,” she replied, her voice so cold, so detached it took his breath away.

“No,” he countered, his fingers relaxing on her arms rubbing soothing circles where he’d gripped her arms, “That is where you are wrong, Barbara. There are many things we need to discuss that cannot wait another moment. I beg of you, allow me a private moment.”

“I do not want to hear what you have to say,” Barbara replied, and Ambrose’s heart cracked when he heard the tremor in her tone.

“Yes you do,” he replied.

“Why?” she shot back ferociously

“Because I love you, you beautiful, stubborn completely vexing woman, and I want you to marry me ,” Ambrose confessed, loud and emphatic enough that everyone ceased talking immediately.

“ What? ” Helena gasped, but Ambrose paid her no mind.

Barbara had stopped fighting him, but the look on her face was not one of relief or happiness, but one of pure bewilderment.

For a moment, panic overtook him. Had he been wrong?

“I do not believe you,” she said at last.

Ambrose could not help but sigh in relief. At least it was a response.

“Then allow me to prove it,” he replied quickly, then swept a hand around the room. “Though I believe I am off to a grand start.”

“Now?” She snickered, drawing her arms away to cross them over her chest. “You want to be witty now when you are interrupting my wedding with some false declaration?”

“Barbara, it is not false. Please, listen to me,” Ambrose pleaded, dropping the coy act. “I love you. You do not have to marry me if you do not want—I would understand. But do not get married because of our deal.”

“What are you speaking about?” Reuben demanded to know.

“Deal?” Kenneth echoed, finally approaching Ambrose for the first time. “What deal?”

Ambrose and Barbara both ignored them as they stared at one another, At last, something like hope flickered in her eyes. Wary, untrusting. But it was there, and Ambrose clung to it.

Barbara turned to Kenneth, a genuinely apologetic look on her face. “My deepest apologies, Kenneth, Papa—everyone. You must excuse me for a moment,” she said, looking from one person to another.

“You are not going anywhere with him,” Reuben commanded, taking a step toward both of them.

“Stay out of this,” Barbara and Ambrose barked in unison, each shooting him a threatening glare before leaving the room.

“Bastard,” Barbara hissed and slapped Ambrose across the face the moment they were alone.

She could have sworn that nothing, but pleasure touched that handsome but now reddened face, and desire broke through her fury.

“An acceptable insult for my behavior, I agree,” Ambrose retorted, stroking his injured cheek almost lovingly. “God, I have missed you.”

“Stop it,” she demanded, feeling color bloom in her cheeks.

Though she would not show it, his words sent relief through her.

“You and I, we do this—this dance, for weeks, and you say nothing. I actually get a proposal— as was our deal— and you say nothing. I wait five days, and you say nothing. And the moment I resign myself to the fact that you do not love me, that you do not see me as someone worthy enough to be your wife, you decide to crash my wedding and finally tell me you love me?”

Every emotion, every tear, every sleepless night she’d had since they’d last seen one another came pouring out of her voice as she spoke.

“What is wrong with you?!” she bellowed.

“You have called me an idiot many times in the past and I am just now finally admitting it,” Ambrose retorted calmly.

Barbara groaned, and she held up both hands in a claw-like fashion. “Sometimes you make me want to-”

Her words cut off into a frustrated groan.

“Do it,” Ambrose said, his voice suddenly dipping an octave as he snatched her wrists and held her hands within touching distance to his cheeks. His deep blue eyes glittered as he dragged the nails of her left hand across his cheekbone. “Rip me to shreds. Just marry me after. Barbara, I am so sorry that it took me so long to realize it, but I love you. I love you so much that it drives me mad.”

Barbara felt like every small bit of strength she had gathered to keep herself standing throughout the day had suddenly vanished, and she felt herself melt into Ambrose’s arms.

Ambrose released her wrists only to wrap her up in his arms, and he held her tenderly as he sighed in evident relief.

“How can you love me?” she rasped, letting herself revel in the feel of his body so close to hers. “I will never be the woman you need to marry. The woman you require for your status. My father has made our family name a joke. You will be ruined.”

“I will not be ruined, and even if I was, I would not give a damn, and neither would Helena,” Ambrose replied quickly. “You are the woman I require. The woman I crave and desire. Every part of you, Barbara, not just the parts Kenneth sees.”

The last bit of her anger and pride bled away as Ambrose said this, and as he tipped her chin up to kiss her, she did nothing to stop him. Happiness spiraled through her as she tasted his lips once more, and her knees nearly buckled when she heard his husky sigh of relief when she parted her lips and let him taste her tongue.

Ambrose’s hold on her shifted then, allowing her to wrap her arms around not his neck this time but his waist. Her body rejoiced at the tingling warmth she found there, and she held onto his muscled back tightly.

“We have made a mess,” she sighed several minutes later, her head resting on his chest.

They had just stopped kissing, only doing so because a thump had scared them. Coming back to reality, they noticed Ambrose’s jacket and cravat had come off somehow, and Ambrose’s hands had been halfway through untying her dress. They’d redressed, but then as if unable to stop touching, they returned to one another’s arms.

“I will take care of it,” Ambrose promised her, rubbing his chin over the crown of her head, then kissed her there before releasing her.

“Ambrose, wait,” Barbara said, suddenly feeling the weight of their decision. Of what would happen when he walked out that door. Once she announced her decision, there would be no turning back.

He turned back to her, and just as their eyes met, she raced to him and kissed him again. Ambrose let go of the door handle and held her close, kissing her passionately until she decided she was ready to let go.

“I shall send you ladies back here, then the four of you take my carriage to my house. The others and I shall discuss like men.”