Chapter twenty-three- Beatrice

It was a beautiful day, with the sun pouring in over the roofless building and painting them all in brilliant sunlight. Beatrice stood in the breached opening that had once been the entrance to the old monastery church, with young Teddy by her side. Martine, with Miss Prissy clutched to her chest fidgeted in the aisle in front of them. Felicia stood nearby, hands folded demurely, eyeing her little sister with youthful disdain. Beatrice nearly sighed aloud.

The girl was trying so hard to act like a mature lady. Beatrice wished she could just relax and enjoy her childhood just a little longer. She glanced at her nephew standing so stiff and straight at her side and found herself wishing the same for him. If only she could ease some of the burden now thrust on those narrow shoulders. He was still just a boy. But he was taking this duty very seriously.

Daimler's offer was kind but it was actually Teddy's place to walk her down the aisle. After all, he was her only living male relative and also the current Baronet, Lord Smail. As a peer, he outranked their noble Gentleman Sheriff and it was his privilege as well as his duty to escort the bride. The older gentleman had been most gracious in his disappointment and promptly promised to sign the registry as witness instead, as Teddy was not yet of age. Of course, he also insisted on being the first to kiss the new bride. Beatrice had laughingly agreed and Sheriff Daimler now stood, front and center of the crowd, happily eyeing her in anticipation. Beatrice could see him over the heads of the others lining both sides of the nave as they stood waiting for the impromptu ceremony to begin.

The entire town, or at least all those who could fit inside the ruined church, were there. If it had been left to the happy couple, the whole wedding would have taken place already. It was Mayor Howard and Sheriff Daimler who had insisted on this elaborate ceremony. The villagers needed an excuse to relax and celebrate, a way to forget their troubles for a few hours. A wedding and a lively celebration afterwards would be the perfect vehicle and they were throwing themselves into it whole-heartedly. Mayor Howard had even delayed the town meeting until the following day to accommodate the party.

Preparations were quickly made, everything arranged and Beatrice now stood awaiting her cue. She still wore her sister-in-law's deep blue cloak as a skirt paired with her own blue-gray top, blotchy with soot and reeking of smoke as it was. Not exactly the perfect wedding attire. Nothing like the silk and organza ball gown she had envisioned as a young girl. Unfortunately, there was little she could do about it.

At least she was decently covered, and reasonably clean. Miss Mabel and a group of women had whisked her away to the river earlier. They had formed a ring around her at the water's edge so she could bathe in some semblance of privacy. Her hair, however, was a different matter. There was no chance to do more than wash and plait it back into her usual braid. She could feel the damp length of it against her spine. As usual, as it dried, wispy curls escaped and fluttered about her face. She habitually tucked in a wisp or two but it was beyond hopeless. Her curls had always had a mind of their own.

"My Lady. Please, My Lady." Came a soft, young voice and Beatrice turned to see a group of young girls approaching.

In the lead was a slender blonde about Teddy's age. The girl tossed a shy, hopeful glance at Teddy who stood straight and tall at his aunt's side. He stared straight ahead and didn't even acknowledge her. But Beatrice watched him swallow hard and noticed how his muscles turned to stone under her hand. He wasn't as immune to the girl as he pretended.

"Here, My Lady. My Nan says a bride needs flowers on her wedding day." The blonde held out a bouquet of wildflowers and Beatrice cooed with delight.

"Oh, how lovely. Thank you." Beatrice accepted the flowers with a grateful smile.

"They're so pretty." Felicia sighed in wonder.

Beatrice glanced down and watched in pleased surprise as the others handed Felicia and Martine two smaller bouquets.

"We get flowers too?" Martine queried in excitement, nearly bouncing in place.

"Manners please." Beatrice gently reminded them and both girls automatically thanked the young women.

Then she noticed another young girl standing before her, holding up a daisy-chain crown.

"For you, My Lady." The younger girl whispered with a shy nod.

Beatrice hesitated a moment before graciously bending so that the child could place the crown on her head. She felt her eyes begin to tear up and her throat clogged with emotion. Everyone was being so kind and generous. She could hardly believe these were the same villagers who had ignored and even scorned her for so many years. She managed a tremulous smile for the children, touched by their sweet generosity. Then the girls moved away to rejoin their families, as Beatrice turned to face the front of the church, sniffing back her tears.

Gilbert stood tall and sturdy beside the alter, his back toward her. In his once-white shirt now coated in soot and grime, his buckskin pants in similar condition, he made an odd looking groom and yet Beatrice found she did not care in the least. He was hers and that was all that mattered. He had made an attempt to clean up as well, washing his face and hands and hastily tying back his damp hair in a neat queue at his nape. It wasn't until he turned to gaze down the aisle at her that she saw his face and gasped in surprise.

He had taken the time to shave and his beard was gone. The lower half of his face was a pale white compared to the upper half. It must have been years since his cheeks had seen the light of day. She might not have known him if not for the twinkle in his beautiful blue eyes as his gaze caressed her. Beatrice thought he looked very handsome.

Mr. Sumter stood at his side. The skinny clerk had been thrilled when Gilbert invited him over and pointed to the spot beside him at the edge of the alter, then held his hand out to seal the agreement. He had leaped into his role as Best Man with enthusiasm. Beatrice knew he was responsible for Gilbert's improved appearance.

It was also Mr. Sumter who introduced him to Father O'Brian and served as interpreter. Every once in a while he would glance over his shoulder and sneak a peek around, a huge grin on his face. Then he would nudge Gilbert and whisper softly in his ear. At one point he invited the clergyman over and bent to converse quietly, his hands flying as he gestured about. The priest nodded with an indulgent smile and resumed his place behind the alter.

"Can we start now, Aunt Bea?" Teddy whispered in his new, deeper voice.

Beatrice smiled indulgently. Just as she was about to answer, the elderly gentleman who had watched over the children during the night, stepped up to the right side of the stone alter, lifted an aged violin to his neck and began to play a soft, slow waltz. Taking this as her cue, Beatrice beamed as she waved the girls into their places and shooed them along. Martine went first, skipping down the aisle with all the energy and enthusiasm of an excited six-year-old. Felicia followed at a more sedate pace, carefully placing her feet in time with the slow beat of the music.

Once they reached the alter, the priest directed them to stand beside the fiddler. All eyes turned to the bride. Beatrice met Teddy's eye and nodded. Then they stepped out around the edge of the stone entrance and slowly approached the alter. She watched Gilbert's eyes light with warm, loving tenderness as his gaze met her own. She had no way to describe the whirlwind of emotions racing through her. Excitement, happiness, satisfaction, wonder, but above it all there was one emotion that blanketed every other. Love.

She floated to her groom's side, barely noticing the path she walked. When they arrived, the music faded to a close and the little priest began speaking but Beatrice was only half listening. Her focus was on Gilbert alone, as if they two were the only people in the whole world.

It was only when Teddy answered, "I do," and placed her hand in Gilbert's, that she was brought back to reality.

She pulled her gaze away and smiled warmly at her nephew. He blushed red but gave her a quick, nervous smile in return before he joined Martine and Felicia on her right. Her gaze returned to Gilbert's and the priest's words droned in her ear.

"We have come together here in celebration of the joining together of Mr. Gilbert Samson Lourson, widower, and our Lady Beatrice Charity Smail, spinster."

Beatrice started at this revelation, her eyes darting from Father O'Brian to Gilbert. He had been married before and she hadn't known, hadn't even guessed it. This news rattled her from the warm haze she had been in. It started her wondering what else she didn't know about this stranger she was about to promise her life to. Panic fluttered inside her chest but then she looked deeper into those unusual silvery-blue eyes of his and recognized the warmth, the love reflected there. Her momentary panic receded. What did it matter if she didn't know everything about her betrothed husband? He probably knew little more about her and yet it was obvious he had no doubts.

"At the request of our Lord Mayor Howard, I will keep this ceremony brief." The round little clergyman continued.

He turned to her and asked, "Do you, Lady Beatrice Smail, vow to love, honor and keep Mr. Gilbert Lourson, in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, keeping only to him as long as you both shall live?”

In a loud clear voice she answered.

"I do."

Then the priest turned to Gilbert and to her surprise asked the same question.

"Do you, Mr. Gilbert Lourson, vow to love, honor and keep Lady Beatrice Smail, in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, keeping only to her as long as you both shall live?”

The moment would forever stand out in her memory. Gilbert stared into the depths of her eyes, his gaze warm with loving tenderness and took a deep breath.

"I do." Came out on an rough exhale, raspy and barely more than a whisper.

Beatrice was shocked to her core and froze for an instant. Then, with mute, elation she threw herself into his arms without waiting for the priest to give his consent. The whole crowd erupted in laughter and applause after that. Even the little priest smiled fondly at them when Gilbert finally set her back on her feet.

Then the clergyman turned to Mr. Sumter and asked, "Do you have the ring?"

Beatrice felt her elation deflate a little. They had no rings. She hadn't had any jewelry of her own at the age of twelve when she moved into her brother's home and her mother's jewelry was long gone. Sissy had sold off or traded away anything she didn't care for and any of the pieces she had hoarded were buried in the burnt out rubble of the townhouse with her. Beatrice wanted no part of searching for them.

But then she watched in shock as the skinny clerk pulled a small sachet from his pocket. He grinned slyly as he delved into the bag and retrieved a small gold band. This he handed to the priest who took the ring, blessed it and then held it out for Gilbert. As he lifted her hand to place the gold band on her finger, Beatrice could only stare at the familiar emblem engraved on the face of it. How and where they had ever found a ring etched with the Smail family crest, she couldn't even begin to guess. She glanced up at Gilbert and then at Mr. Sumter in complete bewilderment.

Silently, the skinny clerk hooked his thumb, gesturing behind himself at the glowering Narwhal and the deputy who stood guard over him. Beatrice's eyes widened with surprise but there wasn't time to ask any of the many questions rolling through her mind. The priest continued.

"With the giving of this ring, and your exchanging of vows, in the name of our Lord in heaven, I now pronounce you man and wife. What God has brought together, let no man tear asunder. You may now kiss your bride."

And then Gilbert was leaning down to kiss her. Their first kiss as a married couple.