“You will prize these quiet moments alone,” she had predicted.
I wasn’t so sure. It seemed like a long, lonely trip.
Little did I know that we would barely pass the gates before I realized exactly what she meant. Dawn broke, revealing that lined up on either side of the road were dozens upon dozens of Aldayneans who had camped out to watch the coach processional to the church, despite the chilly temperatures in the mid-50s. They literally wore their Aldaynean pride on their sleeves with coats, blankets, hats, and scarves in purple and black, waving signs and ringing bells as they screamed and cheered to show their support. I waved to them as I was taught to, sharing a genuine smile for their instant adoration. I was touched by how many of them there were, for miles at a stretch. From under the shadow of Grandpa Charlie, past Midnight Falls, through the dark pastures of Rose Valley where all the black roses grew, through Yaarshire where Yaars grapes aspired to become sweet wine. We circled back towards Castlewick and through Cochrann, past Girbridge University where protesters were mixed between the students clamoring to show their approval.
It was like the entire country came out to take part in this historic day. Maeve had declared the day a bank holiday to ensure that anyone could participate that wanted to.
Out of curiosity, I used a slower moment as we passed through countryside just south of Unity Lake to see how Auggie was progressing. I wanted to sneak a glimpse of my prince, but I got way more than I bargained for when I opened social media. I was trending, which I had expected.
What I wasn’t expecting was #FlimFlamFam.
I knew when I saw it that it would have to do with me. I also knew I shouldn’t click on it at all, but morbid curiosity got the better of me. The hashtag opened a brand-new article on the PING website, with Christopher Tyler’s byline.
WHERE IS THE REST OF THE FAMILY? WHAT DIRTY SECRETS ARE THE MCPHEES HIDING?
I gulped back a lump in my throat as I scrolled down the article, where I saw familiar faces that I hadn’t seen in an awfully long time
It was my Grandmother and Grandfather on my Dad’s side, preachers from West Texas, who had long broken ties with our family.
That wasn’t true. They hadn’t broken ties with us. We had broken ties with them. And it had been as recently as the year before, when they had something to say about Dash dancing in Fern’s videos in his rainbow tutu.
They had a lot to say about the way my parents lived their life and raised their children, criticizing every choice they had made since Dad ran off with my nomad mother when he was just seventeen years old. They had claimed then that she had led him astray, convincing him to ditch his name and his family obligation to follow his dad’s footsteps to take over the church one day.
But that had never been Dad’s calling. He wanted nothing to do with speaking in front of a crowd or telling other people what to do or how to live. He preferred Mom’s more mellow vibe. From the moment they met, she was playing a song only he could hear. His parents never understood, and they spent more than twenty years trying to convince them.
There were awkward visits to Texas where they policed everything, including all of us kids.
That ended when they told Dashie that he had to ditch his tutu, or he’d wind up in hell. Dad lost his temper and told them off, airing every grievance he had been harboring since he was a little boy.
We hadn’t spoken to any of them since.
But boy, they were sure talking now. My heart burned with hatred that Christopher had unearthed them just to fuck with me. He couldn’t just let me be happy, and he was willing to trash every single member of my family to get one over one me.
That he got them to denigrate me for the unplanned pregnancy was the last straw. I nearly threw the phone across the coach.
Jack began kicking, likely feeling the effects of my stress. I caressed him, speaking gently to him, promising I’d never let anyone hurt him, ever, even if they were blood kin. I didn’t have to imagine what my super-religious grandparents might say about the baby I conceived out of wedlock, because they were already too willing to offer a public statement about it. “How can she be trusted with the well-being of a country if she cannot be trusted with the reputation of her own child?”
I seethed as I read their words. How could they attack a poor little innocent baby, as if anything I might have done would have made him anything less than perfect?
I was so upset I nearly forgot that I was supposed to greet countrymen and women along the processional route towards Shimmering Falls. I put my phone away and concentrated on touching up my makeup. Still, I couldn’t unhear their hateful comments. I knew if I read one sign calling my son a bastard, I might just come unhinged.
Some fairy tale this was turning out to be. This shit was definitely not in any book I had ever read, or movie I had ever seen, or song I had ever sung.
As the streets grew more populated, my mood tried to correct itself. I could see that despite the ways my enemies, both old and new, had set out to sully my wedding day, there were thousands of Aldayneans who were ready to love and accept me as their princess. They screamed and waved their signs, ringing their bells as we passed by.
Bells from church towers tolled throughout the kingdom as we approached Wandermere. Maeve had told me that ringing bells warded off evil spirits. I touched the silver bells on my bouquet with an absent smile. I could use all the help I could get.
Despite it all, I needed to remember who I was. I was still Peaches McPhee, FFS.
No. I was Lady Peaches McPhee, Aldaynean nobility by decree of the Queen. I lifted my head and waved to my adoring public, who were ready to accept me and support me as is. They gave me strength the closer I got to the Cathedral where I would pledge my love and my life not only to Auggie but to Aldayne itself.
When the golden coach took its place in front of us, carrying my future husband to the church where we would wed before God and the world, I had no doubts whatsoever that this was what I wanted to do, complications and all.
I caressed my son with one hand and waved to my people with the other. As the towering spires of the bell towers of Crystal Skye Cathedral came into view, I was every bit a gushing bride-to-be, ready to shed my old life and embrace my new one.
This was what Maeve had wanted for me in this journey across the country. It was to prepare me not to be a bride, but to be a queen.
I lifted my head, the weight of the tiara finally resting comfortably atop the hair Jorge had dyed peach and rose gold for the occasion. I hid none of my tattoos. I hid no extra weight, including the weight of my unborn child.
I hid nothing. I came to Aldayne as the woman I spent the last thirty years becoming.
And it was enough.
Chapter Five
The people of the capital city of Wandermere packed the streets as the wedding processional passed through on its way to Crystal Skye Cathedral, which was perched on a hilltop on the south-eastern tip of Aldayne, facing Ireland beyond. People threw flowers and rang bells, screaming their adoration as the line of carriages passed by. The complete pandemonium was surreal mixed in with the steady clopping of the horse’s hooves and the loud gay peeling of the church bells that grew even louder as we approached the church. Everything was timed precisely, including each carriage’s arrival so that the Queen and Auggie could enter the church first, then my parents, then the bridal party and finally, me.
I longed to see Auggie so much it physically hurt. We had decided to live apart these last few weeks both for practical reasons and to make this day, and our union, even more special. It was the most traditional choice we had made in our entire courtship, one that gave us a sense of what married life might look like once we officially assumed our roles and conducted our royal duties.
Wedding planning had kept me as busy as his new military training schedule had kept him. We had seen each other off and on through all the many rehearsals, but Maeve had orchestrated everything so that much of the magic of our wedding day could be co
ntained to the day itself. Our contact was limited, which I knew would only make the moment I saw him standing at the altar in his full uniform pack more of a punch. My handsome prince waiting just for me. What a dream. While we spoke nightly before bed, most of our communications had been via text. His last, “I can’t wait to see you walking down that aisle to me,” still made my heart flutter.
I couldn’t wait to see him again, be with him again. And after today, it would be forever. I was ready to burst from my carriage as it slowed to allow the carriages in front of me to empty.
Instead, I preoccupied myself by waving to all the overjoyed onlookers. I was especially touched by all the children who jumped up and down, waving their flags, ringing their bells, and holding up hand-drawn signs to wish me well. A little pudgy girl with strawberry blond hair held up her “Princess Pea” sign as she desperately waited for me to acknowledge her. I gave her a big smile and waved, whereupon she turned to her mother to let her know that I had seen her.
Yes, little girl. I saw you. I saw all the little girls who welcomed a new kind of princess into the world of their imagination. And who knew? Maybe theirs would be the life that changed whenever Jack became a prince all his own and chose a bride.
I was overcome by the thought. That was what this day meant, it was the beginning of our family, the first of many celebrations that we would share as we grew into the people that we were all destined to be. Auggie, Jack, me… all the other children we planned to have. Weddings, births, christenings… coronations.
This was how history was made.
One bite at a time, I had to remind myself. One bite at a time.
Finally, my carriage came to a stop in front of Crystal Skye Cathedral. The archway had been adorned with robust garlands full of Aldaynean roses. A purple carpet spilled out from the opened doors and down the steps to the curb where my carriage had halted so that I could exit. My bridesmaids now waited for me to exit, along with my Dad, who looked so handsome in his morning suit. A tear threatened to fall but I knew I couldn’t walk into that church and pass Jorge in the sanctuary with a wrecked makeup job, so I took a deep breath. I grabbed a bottle of water, discreetly taking a sip because I had heard it helped to stop crying.
Then, there was nothing left to do but wait for that door to open.
My lip quivered when I realized Sean was the one who opened the door and held out his hand. I smiled as big as I could as I emerged into the bright sunshine just before noon. The second the crowd saw me, they went absolutely bananas, which I would have sworn was impossible considering how they had screamed for the carriage as it entered the roundabout in front of the church.
I waved to them as I walked up a few steps. Fern, Oliver, and Dash rushed to help me straighten the train while Audra waited for me at the top of the stairs to coordinate Dad and me as we approached the church. I could hear the music spilling from the opened double doors of the majestic cathedral. Roses overwhelmed my senses as an old Peter Gabriel song hung somewhere around my sub-conscious. I turned to my dad.
“You ready, princess?” he smiled, using an old nickname for me that was about to come true.
I nodded. “I’m ready.”
He bent to kiss my cheek, which made our onlookers cheer even more.
“Love you, Pea,” he said, his voice choking with emotion.
“Love you, too, Dad,” I said, equally overcome.
Audra handed us over to Bishop O’Sullivan, who was decked out in full robes and a large hat. “Good morning, Lady McPhee, Lord McPhee,” he said. I could tell Dad found the new title as foreign as I did, but I supposed we had better get used to it. This is who we were now. I squeezed his arm. He gave me a warm smile. “Are you ready to see your groom?”
“I’ve never been more ready,” I grinned.
He nodded to Audra, who took her place with Fern as they held the hands of the little girls chosen by the Queen to escort me down the aisle along with Dallas. Oliver and Dash brought up the rear, looking ever so dapper in their purple and black suits.
Dad and I fell in line behind the bishop who lifted his staff to begin the music. We were guided into the building by Irish Uilleann Pipes, leading the way playing Beethoven’s Ode to Joy as we began the final leg of the procession through the nave, the one that would take me to my prince. I couldn’t yet see him, but I recognized many famous faces in that crowded church as we approached the transept. Rows of trees lined walls, providing more greenery, while a mixture of white and black roses covered the second archway we passed under.
It was then I first saw my Auggie, standing there at the end of the aisle in full uniform, including the kilt he wore in the Quinn tartan, his saber at his side as he stood proud and tall next to Gav and Archer, waiting for my approach.
Our eyes that had been desperately seeking each other met at the same time and I could tell by the look on his face that Auggie was as overwhelmed as I was by that moment. A choir began to sing as I crossed into the sanctuary, but all I could see was my future husband, who held his hand to heart as I approached.
We finally met at the altar of that grand church, under the cascading rainbows of all the glass panes overhead and the dramatic stained glass in front of us that depicted Jesus Christ rising in all his glory. I passed my bouquet off to my little sister, Dallas, winking at Dash as he followed Fern and Audra to be seated at the side.
I stopped in front of the two prayer kneelers that were adorned in regal purple velvet. The song continued around us, but all I saw were those green eyes of the man I had come to love so much. I didn’t give a hoot about protocol as I reached for his hand. He smiled as he took it. This was our day. We made the rules.
When he said, “Hello,” I nearly hopped right into his arms. I restrained myself, but barely.
He shamelessly took it all in, the dress, the makeup, the tiara; he absorbed every detail with those stunning green eyes before he squeezed my hand and mouthed, “You’re so beautiful.”
“You, too,” I mouthed back, making him smile through the tears he desperately tried to hold back.
We turned our attention to the Bishop as the music died down.
“The Grace of Almighty God, the love of our Savior, Jesus Christ, and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with you,” he began.
“And also with you,” the faithful congregation repeated.
“Dearly beloved, we have gathered here in the presence of Almighty God, Jesus the Risen Christ, and the Holy Spirit, to witness as this man and this woman come before this altar to unite their lives in Holy Matrimony. It is an institution ordained and blessed by God, because God is love, and only love could bring two individuals together in this thoughtful and solemn union. It is not an institution to be entered into lightly, but with much consideration and care, for the covenant of matrimony is a lifelong bond. Everything that has come before has ceased and becomes something entirely new. For the sake of family, for the sake of community, for the sake of country and for the sake of the world, where we all might abide in God’s love.”
He stepped back as the choir began our first hymn, Joyful, Joyful We Adore Thee.
I squeezed Dad’s hand as we started to sing. Having had such a negative religious upbringing, I knew even darkening a church was difficult for him now. He gave me a reassuring smile as he sang out strong and true.
When the song ended, the Bishop continued with the part that I had come to dread.
“By duty to my office, I am required to ask if there is anyone present who has just cause why these two people cannot lawfully be married. I compel you to make your declaration now, or forever hold your peace.”
My breath caught and held. I didn’t dare look behind me. I already knew where the Byrnes would be sitting, and I could practically feel Cillian’s gaze drill into my back as we waited that interminable few seconds the Bishop gave the congregation to make their claim. In all my nightmares, this was the moment that Cillian charged the altar and proclaimed that the baby in my belly wasn’t Auggie�
��s and the whole romance had been a sham, right before Auggie punched his lights out and there was a brutal brawl right there in that grand cathedral for the whole world to see.
Auggie squeezed my hand. I gave him a small smile as finally the window closed, and the Bishop proceeded.
“Augustine and Peaches, the vows you are about to take are sacred, binding, and transformational. No longer will you be two separate individuals, but united as one before God, who knows all and is the judge of our most secret of hearts. If either of you knows a reason you cannot lawfully be joined together, you must declare so now.”
Another wait, this one shorter, and this time Auggie gave me a confident smile.
We were now locked in for the ride.
“Who presents this woman to be married?”
Dad stepped forward. “The McPhee family,” he said. For a man of so few words, his voice was bold and strong, almost echoing throughout the cathedral thanks to the microphone he had to speak into.
Bishop O’Sullivan nodded and Dad lifted my hand to him, and he transferred it to Auggie.
“Augustine Seamus Whitley Quinn Agassi, wilt thou have this woman to be thy wife, and wilt thou pledge thy faith to her, in all love and honor, in all duty and service, in all faith and tenderness, to live with her, and cherish her, according to the ordinance of God, in the holy bond of marriage?”
He straightened and spoke with conviction. “I will.”
“Peaches McPhee,” the bishop continued, turning to me. “Wilt thou have this man to be thy husband, and wilt thou pledge thy faith to him, in all love and honor, in all duty and service, in all faith and tenderness, to live with him, and cherish him, according to the ordinance of God, in the holy bond of marriage?”
Jack seemed to understand the weight of the promise I was about to make. He gave me a swift kick to let me know I’d better mean it. I used my free hand to caress him as I pledged my heart to my love. “I will,” I said, my voice choked with emotion. Auggie and I shared a smile as he squeezed my hand.
The Duke Takes a Bride (The Rocking Royal Trilogy Book 2) Page 4
