Polly looked toward her mother, noticing that she did not look entirely happy. "Father said to tell you he may be late. Apparently, something ate one of Mrs. Martin's chickens again. Where's Phebe?"
Her mother glanced toward the upstairs. "She came back a few minutes before Thomas got here," she said. "And she's said nothing about where she went. But I'm through trying to get explanations out of that girl. She has ceased to show respect for me. I'm letting your father handle her from now on."
Thomas looked toward her, stiffening. "She was rude to you?"
His mother nodded. "More than just a little. I wish we'd sent her back three weeks ago."
He frowned and then sat down, leaning forward. "Tell me what's going on here, Mother," he said, his handsome face disturbed. "I want to know about this."
The weekend was spent catching up. Abel and Thomas spent long hours talking about the reconstruction in Leesburg and how it was progressing there. Geoffrey, Nicholas and Abel all came for dinner on Friday evening and again on Saturday for lunch.
Cicely observed quietly as Phebe studied each of the men, her attention particularly resting on Nick. She actually looked interested in what each man said.
When it was time for Abel to leave, he took her aside. Pulling her into his embrace, he whispered into her hair, "I'll be thinking of you tonight, sweetheart. This is our last night apart. After tomorrow, we need not be separated, ever again. Are you ready?"
She reached her arms around him. "I am, Abel. So ready!"
"No second thoughts?"
"None."
The Wedding Day
"For heaven's sake, Ciss, be still." Cicely's mother was fussing over her and chattering constantly. "We'll never get your hair done if you continue to wiggle about. Sometimes, I think you're still six-years-old. Polly, it sounds as if there is someone at the door downstairs; please run down and get it. Miss Betsy is in the kitchen. She probably won't hear it. Phebe—no—please don't run off with the combs—we'll need—" She sighed and looked toward the doorway. But Phebe was gone, jeweled combs in hand.
Cicely looked in the mirror, meeting her mother's eyes in the reflection. Finally, she said softly, "It's all right, Mother. I could wear it down, I suppose. Abel loves it that way."
Her mother lifted her long curls and brought them so they hung down her back. "You'd be quite beautiful with it down. Let's."
Cicely looked up, making a face as her mother worked on her curls, braiding a few small locks of hair and bringing them back.
"You're still as tender-headed as you always were. Hand me a piece of ribbon."
Cicely reached for one and handed it backward.
While they were working on her hair, Polly reappeared at the doorway. "It was a gift from Mrs. Baxter, the lady from the boarding house. I didn't think she ever bought gifts for anyone. Can you believe it? Thomas is downstairs, pacing, as usual. I'm so glad he made it home. And Miss Betsy is making tea and tarts for us. She said she thought we could use some sustenance."
Cicely glanced at her in the mirror. "But isn't she busy making the—"
"No. Miss Constance is making it." Polly shook her head.
Their mother turned, her face concerned. "You're talking about the cake? No, Miss Hazel is."
Both twins stared at her. "Are you sure?"
"No. Yes?" Her eyes went wide with alarm. "Oh dear God. What if we've forgotten the cake?"
Cicely put her hand on her mother's. "I'm sure you're right, Mother. It's Miss Hazel." But her eyes were troubled.
Polly turned to go back downstairs. "I'll go get the list," she called over her shoulder, as she once again disappeared.
Just as she left, Phebe came back in.
"I don't think I want to use these, after all." She deposited the combs back onto the vanity.
Cicely looked at her mother's face in the mirror. Her mouth was tight, as if she wanted desperately to say something. Finally, she took a deep breath and said only, "Thank you."
But suddenly, as if having second thoughts, Phebe reached down for the strips of satin ribbon they had decided to use.
Cicely's mother reached out and grabbed her wrist before she could move. "No!" Her voice came out more as a bark. "We're using that for Cicely's hair. Do not touch that." Her voice was more abrupt than Cicely had heard in a long time.
Phebe looked shocked, but let go of the ribbon and moved over toward the window seat. She looked out and sighed.
"It would have been nice to be included in today's events," she said, with a petulant voice.
Both Cicely and her mother turned in unison. But it was Cicely who spoke. "Phebe, you've done nothing but complain about the wedding and everything related to it, since the moment you heard Abel and I were getting married. We thought you had no desire to be in it."
Phebe's stare back at her was disconcerting. "Well, you could have asked."
Cicely was speechless. She felt her mother's hand on her shoulder and looked up to meet her eyes in the mirror. Her mother gave her only a slight shake of her head.
"Here you are, ladies." Miss Betsy appeared in the doorway, her face cheerful and her eyes bright. She held the tray in her hands, filled with lovely treats. "Something to get you through. I brought sandwiches, as well. Oh, and Miss Watson, there is a gentleman downstairs asking for you. I took the liberty of telling him you would be right down."
Phebe rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. She was muttering under her breath, but nothing she said was intelligible. After a moment of silence, she asked in a demanding tone, "What else did he say?"
Betsy turned back. "Only that you were to hurry. He was in no mood to put up with your foolishness today."
Phebe, her mouth tight, reached into the wardrobe and retrieved her cloak. She passed Betsy and began to descend the steps. The housekeeper waited until she was gone then looked back, her eyes twinkling.
"Actually, what he said was, he was getting Miss Watson out of your hair."
A laugh erupted from Cicely, and she nodded. "Thank you, Miss Betsy, for the food. We thought you'd be terribly busy today."
Betsy smiled and made room for Polly to come in. "This is a light day for me," she answered, as she looked back over her shoulder. "Especially since Miss Constance is making the cake."
They stood there wide-eyed and watched her go. Cicely swiveled, on the vanity bench, and stared at her mother. Polly looked horrified.
"Oh, God," they all said at once.
The Ceremony
Polly stood behind Cicely, just inside the vestibule of the church, with Geoffrey Francis at her side. She reached down to fluff Cicely's dress out behind her. Jennifer Gregory was there, too, showing her how to hold the pink roses that came from the Pembroke gardens. Thankfully, the frost had held off. They were still beautiful.
"When you get down the aisle, Cissy, don't forget to hand Polly your bouquet so your hands will be free."
They had decided to forego the bustle in the back and just bring down a train made of satin and lace. It had been a wise decision, Cicely thought. Her waistline dipped in the front to a point, along with the sleeves that came down over her hands. The bust line had been a tiny bit low, and Jennifer had worked it over with lace to make it more modest.
"The dress makes you look like a princess," Jennifer whispered, smoothing out the skirt.
"Thank you," Cicely smiled gratefully. "Is everyone here? Where are Abel's parents?"
Polly, in her pink dress that was very like Cicely's, opened the door a bit and pointed. "On the front row. They're sitting next to Mother."
"Oh! I see!" She looked up at the front. Kathleen Carter was turned, waving at her from the front row, and she waved back. Kathleen had just a touch of grey at her temples now, but was as beautiful as ever, with her vivid blue eyes that her son had inherited. Cicely grinned up at her father, who was smiling. He was dressed in black today. Thomas leaned against the door, next to him.
"Thomas, I can't tell you how glad I am you're here." She grinned, her dimples showing. "And,
Father, you look very handsome today. I've never seen you in a suit."
He grinned back. "The last time I wore one was when I married your mother. I'm glad you like it. Because, after your wedding, and then your sister's and your brother's, you never will again."
"I've given up." Thomas was grinning now. "The girl I wanted to marry has just said yes to another. I'm off females for life."
"Oh, stop it, big brother." Cicely scolded. "You'll change your mind."
"Not unless she's as beautiful as Lizzie Wellington and as well-behaved as Katie Adams."
Cicely let out a giggle, closing her eyes and thinking what a wonderful day it was, until her father spoke again in her ear. "You do realize, my darling little girl, that it's not too late to change your mind?"
Geoffrey's voice, from behind her, spoke good-naturedly. "Don't try to get her to have second thoughts, Sheriff Andrews," he said, chuckling. "Abel is likely the only one in the world who would ever put up with her antics."
His words pulled her back from her reverie. "Geoffrey Francis, be quiet," she said, giving him a withering look. Polly elbowed him in the side.
Cicely smiled up, her eyes shining. "Father, I think it might be a little late. But I really don't want to change it."
The orchestra began to play softly and Polly raised her sister's veil just enough to kiss her cheek. "I love you, Cissy," she whispered. "I'm very happy for you."
"I love you, too, Polly." Cicely felt tears begin to gather. As Geoffrey and Polly stepped around her, Thomas opened the door to the vestibule and they began to walk down the aisle together. As they took their places toward the front of the church, Father Michael stepped out.
So did Abel.
Cicely inhaled sharply as she saw him. He was dressed in a dark black waistcoat with long tails and a black vest. His black bow tie around his throat over a white shirt and his long black pants caused her to forget to breathe for a moment. But her quick glance over his suit came to rest on his brilliant blue eyes and stayed there. She was lost.
Her father watched her face.
"I believe I have my answer." He grinned. As soon as the music stopped and the Wedding March began, he held out his arm. Thomas did the same, from her other side.
Cicely took both their arms and nodded.
Father Michael stood in the front, watching them come forward, with his usual indulgent smile. His gaze rested on Cicely and watched Abel's face as he fondly studied his bride coming down on the arms of her father and her brother.
The priest opened his mouth. Nothing came out. He closed it and waited a minute and tried again. Again, no sound came. When Cicely looked up at him, his eyes were blinking rapidly.
"Father Michael?" She reached out toward him, alarmed.
He looked down at her. "Yes, dear child. I'm all right. Just…" He took a breath and swallowed, looking out at the crowd. "Touched. At having the opportunity to join these two in marriage. You see," he said, looking out over them. "I've christened them. I've watched them grow up, from babies, to the young man and woman you see before you today. I've watched their fondness for each other grow into a fully blossomed, rare and beautiful love." He lost his voice again, and finally, looked at Cicely's father, who reached out for her mother to come to him.
She and Thomas exchanged places as Cicely handed her bouquet to her twin to hold. As her mother moved forward, she joined hands with her husband behind Cicely and the three of them became a circle, with all three of them facing the priest.
Father Michael's voice was tremulous. "Who gives this woman in marriage to this man?"
Henson's voice was trying to crack. He took another breath and said quietly, "Her mother and I do."
Abel stepped forward, just as Cicely's mother and father brought her hands forward to rest in his. They each raised her veil just enough to kiss her cheeks from each side and then moved to sit down.
Abel gently turned Cicely to face him. The crowd began to sniffle. It began with Kathleen and Gleason, and before long, handkerchiefs were produced everywhere.
Cicely was having trouble keeping tears back, and Abel lifted, first, one hand, then the other, to his lips.
Polly was having trouble now, and Geoffrey moved toward her and stood, handing her a handkerchief as well. He stood next to her, with an arm around her, while the ceremony began.
The muffled tears around the room continued, until Father Michael began to chuckle.
"I believe, my children, this may be the first wedding I have ever performed where the entire church was crying."
But Cicely was looking up into Abel's eyes now, her own shining. He leaned forward to kiss the top of her head. The vows, she said quietly, as he had, "I do."
When Father Michael introduced them as man and wife, she was unprepared for the way Abel swept her into his arms and kissed her. When she finally opened her eyes, he was gazing down into hers and smiling.
"Hello, Mrs. Carter," he said softly, into her ear. "I believe the crowd is waiting."
She stopped on the way down the aisle, first to embrace Polly, who handed her back her bouquet. Cicely pulled a pink rose from it and handed it to her sister. Her mother and father were next, then Kathleen and Gleason and the rest of Abel's large family. Another rose went to her mother and then to Kathleen, before letting Abel hurry her down the rest of the way.
When they reached the bottom of the steps, he picked her up in his arms and swung her around, squeezing her tightly before setting her back on her feet. Leaning down, he planted a chaste kiss on her mouth.
Cicely's lower lip stuck out in a pout. "Is that all I get?"
He laughed and turned her toward the room. "Just wait until we get home."
Her face turned a deep shade of crimson, and she looked around to see some of the staff from Pembroke and the Adams House working furiously. There was a big bowl of punch but the cake was not out yet. People were pouring in from upstairs and began to come over.
Her head was spinning at the comments of the town as they came forward to hug them both. "Beautiful wedding…the sweetest I've ever seen…we loved it…you look so beautiful…" Comments abounded, as Abel shook hands and she embraced people they had known all their lives.
Still, the cake was not there. The china from both Pembroke and the Adams House was set out, and the food was beginning to fill the tables as people drifted over toward them. Was her mother right? Had they really forgotten the cake?
Finally, the cake was carefully carried to the table, while Miss Hazel directed and barked orders. Cicely grinned and looked up, relieved, at Abel. She found her mother's eyes across the room, seeing her worry melt away.
The crowd was nearly finished, and she looked around. In the corner, she spotted Phebe sitting on a chair, with Nicholas standing over her. He didn't look happy as he stared down at her, and Phebe had a look of guilt all over her face.
What was going on?
But she forgot the stress as she and Abel took seats and her father made a toast to them. Thomas made the second and Father Michael blessed the food as the crowd began to eat.
It was almost over. The crowd was beginning to leave to go home, and Cicely looked around the room at all the lovely friends who had shared their day with them. Leaning up on tiptoe, she whispered in Abel's ear to let him know she would go in and thank the staff who had so graciously provided the food. He nodded and smiled.
The first face she saw inside the kitchen was the harried face of Miss Hazel. She walked over and put her arms around the woman's neck. "I love you, Miss Hazel. Thank you so much."
But the look she received was odd, and she tilted her head. "Is something wrong?"
Miss Hazel turned. "I love you too, my darlin', but you need to rid yourselves of Miss Phebe Watson."
Cicely's hands began to clench and unclench in her wedding gown. Her eyes reflected alarm. "What happened?"
"I received a visit from her Thursday morning. She said not to worry about bringing the cake—that Constance would be bringing it. I th
ought it was odd, and I should have checked on it then. But this morning, Constance sent over a message. She had been told not to fret about the food, because we would be handling the food. When we realized what was happening—" She halted.
Cicely was headed toward the door.
"Cicely?" Her mother's voice. But she barely heard it as she began to close the distance between herself and Phebe. She was all but unaware that Abel's eyes were on her.
"I'm going to strangle her, Mother!" She spotted her long-time school friend, still sitting with Nick in front of her, and raced in her direction. Her chest was tight, and her heart was pounding in her ears.
"Phebe Watson!" Her voice full of exasperation, she headed straight across the room uncaring that all eyes were on her.
Intervention
Abel was on her in an instant, his arm about her waist. He had lifted her off her feet before she even knew it and hauled her back into the kitchen.
"Abel! Put me down! You don't understand!"
"I understand you are out of control, young lady. Calm yourself." His deep voice in her ear tried to get her attention. He didn't feel like he had accomplished it.
"No!"
Abel took her to the far end of the kitchen and pinned her to the wall, one hand on either side of her head.
Immediately, she tried to duck under his arm, and he moved his hands under her arms and pushed her back against the wall with his hard body.
"Cicely Allison Carter." He leaned in close. His tone and voice were carefully controlled, but he was punctuating every syllable, now. "Unless you calm down this instant, I'll borrow a wooden spoon, and every person in this kitchen will witness you having your bottom paddled. Do you understand me?"
Her face began to crumple and tears began to fall. "But—s-she tried to sabotage our wedding! And she caused Miss Hazel and Miss Constance so much trouble—and—" She leaned into his chest.
Abel straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin.
"Look at me, sweetheart."
It took a moment before she actually heard him, but finally, she looked up.
Judging Cicely Page 8
