by Nikki Poppen
“I believe the next order of business is the marriage proposal I made to you in London. Will you accept in spite of me making a muck of things? Please, Cecile, marry me. No other person in this world has risked as much for me as you have. You’ve risked your life and your heart. I can’t pretend to be worthy of that, but I will spend my whole life working to earn it.”
Joy suffused her face in a rapturous glow. “I find I can’t turn the offer down” She leaned forward and kissed him with all the love in her heart.
Cecile’s wedding day dawned with a blue sky and fluffy white clouds. The Refuge was bursting with friends who’d arrived two days earlier for the festivities. Alain’s sister, Isabella, had come with the new baby and her handsome husband, Tristan. Alain’s two childhood friends, Giles and Chatham had come as well, eagerly agreeing to share a room with Daniel to make space for everyone at The Refuge.
Cecile and Etienne had been warmly embraced by Alain’s friends and by the town. This morning Cecile had been awakened with breakfast in bed delivered by Isabella, who insisted she not worry about going downstairs until it was time to depart for St. Leonard’s. Isabella had stayed with her, chatting and laughing while she bathed and the maid Alain had hired for her did up her hair and threaded it with pearls.
Cecile turned her head in the mirror, straining to see the elegant coiffure from all angles. “It’s so lovely!” she exclaimed. “But it seems a waste since I’ll have a veil over it.”
Isabella laughed. “Alain will be able to see it and that’s all that matters. Come, it’s time for the gown. People will want to stop by your room and say goodbye before they head for the church. We can’t have them find you in dishabille.”
Cecile stood patiently as the gown of silk glace was lifted over her head and gliding over the curves of her body. Isabella herself did up the pearl buttons at the back, exclaiming over the gown. It was of purest white, highwaisted and banded beneath her breasts with a pink satin ribbon. Because it was June, Cecile had foregone the long tight sleeves, opting instead for short puffed sleeves trimmed in graceful falls of delicate Honiton lace that matched the vandyked hem on the gown. The veil too was made of yards of Honiton lace.
“You look lovely. I’ll only be the first one to tell you that today” Isabella said as they surveyed the gown in the mirror together. There was a knock on the door, and the procession of well wishers began, each of them exclaiming over Cecile’s gown.
Finally the house grew quiet, the guests having departed for the church. Etienne was the last one to come to the room. It was Isabella’s cue to depart for the church with her husband and baby. Etienne would give Cecile away.
“Are you ready, CeeCee?” Etienne asked. “I am to tell you that Alain has left for church with Tristan, so it’s safe to come downstairs without him seeing you”
They laughed at the superstition, both a little nervous over what the day would hold for them.
“We’ve come a long way,” Cecile said.
Etienne nodded. “You’re a famous violin player and a baroness now. Who would have thought?”
“You’re still my brother. Nothing has changed that. The Refuge will be your home too”
“I know. I like Alain. He has been a good mentor for me. We have talked about my future. He has arranged for me to go to London and study the hotel industry at one of the best hotels in town so that I have my options. Ideally he wants me to come back and take over the resort, but I am not sure yet”
Cecile nodded. “You will be good at it.”
“And you will be good for him. I can see it in the way he looks at you.” Etienne clasped his sister’s hand. “Time to go”
The journey from The Refuge to St. Leonard’s was a happy one. Cecile rode in an open landau decorated with flowers and satin ribbons. The streets were lined with the citizens of Hythe who had turned out to greet the baron’s new wife. They threw flowers while she laughed and caught at them.
But nothing compared to the joy she felt when the doors to St. Leonard’s opened, revealing Alain standing in full morning dress at the end of a flower bedecked aisle. The church was turned out in its best, with flowers along the side aisles as well, and the pews packed with Alain’s friends dressed in their summer finest for the occasion.
Music came from a hidden place, a string quartet she guessed. How thoughtful of Alain to provide music from the instrument she so dearly loved. Etienne walked her down the long aisle to where her new hus band waited. Tristan stood next to him, and Mrs. Brown waited as her own witness. Cecile recognized some of the faces as she passed. Isabella gave her a teary smile while she juggled the baby. Then she was next to Alain and all else faded.
They had waited three years for this. Alain covered her hand with his own, warm and strong, lending his support should she need it.
The vicar began. Cecile supposed the service was nice and words meaningful but nothing could dislodge her attention from the emerald-eyed, golden-haired jewel of a man who stood beside her pledging his fidelity and love and the future they would make together. At last the ceremony was complete. The vicar intoned the most romantic words of the ritual. “Baron Wickham, you may kiss the bride.”
Alain bent to her and whispered, “Cecile, you’re my hero. You have saved me in ways you cannot guess”
Cecile smiled. “No, you’re mine. You’re my heroic baron.”
With that, they sealed their union with a kiss and turned to face their friends and their future together.
