Lovelier than Daylight

by Rosslyn Elliott

  “No, we had finished our conversation,” Susanna’s aunt said. She walked toward him with the careful grace of age. “The two of you will need to speak, so I’m sure my niece will wish to remain.”

  Susanna did not stir from her place by the window, her eyes wide under the brim of her straw hat, clutching her small handbag in front of her.

  He held the door for Mrs. Hanby, who gave him a nod as she left.

  When he turned back, Susanna was still there, as pale as a figurine. Should he go to her? She seemed so nervous that he didn’t want to upset her further.

  “First,” he said, approaching only halfway, to the center of the room, “I must apologize for placing you in such an awkward situation.”

  “You did it for the children,” she said in a small voice. “I understand.”

  He did not want to go to her and make her feel cornered by the window. “Will you come speak with me?”

  She was so hesitant, not at all her usual spontaneous self. But she inched toward him across the black-and-white tile until she was only a yard away.

  “Susanna,” he said with a wave of tenderness for her. “You don’t have anything to fear. It’s just your adversary Johann forcing you to marry him against your will.”

  She laughed and her face relaxed.

  “I can’t promise you will never feel discomfort about the brewery. I can only promise to be a good husband to you all my life.” It felt strange to stand there and say such things in the midst of a ballroom. He stepped so close that he could smell the faint sweetness of her hair, like a trace of peach. His urge to hold her was overwhelming him—he fought for control. He must not press her, she must decide freely. She had lowered her eyelids and looked very conscious of his nearness as well.

  He dropped his voice to an intimate murmur. “There will be difficulties—my family may appear to have strange customs at first—but with mutual respect and love, we can overcome them. And I promise, there will be no drinking in our home, if you don’t wish it.”

  “Thank you,” she said, then took a breath as if to fortify herself. “It is very sudden to have to make this decision.”

  “Yes, it is,” he said. “I’m sorry for the circumstances. And I don’t wish you to accept unless you truly think you can be happy as my wife. If I were not so certain myself that you could be, I would never have suggested it.”

  She put out a hand and he instinctively brought up his own to hold hers. “But you aren’t afraid?” she asked. “To take responsibility for all six children? Rachel will be with them, of course, but we will have their legal charge. She might even have to live with us.”

  “I know.” He did not underestimate its gravity—a woman under their roof with a seventh child on the way. Six souls already to be guided and nurtured, as if he were a stepfather. “If you can learn to care for my family despite our differences, I can do the same for your sister.”

  Her eyes glistened and their green darkened. “I can care for your family,” she whispered.

  “Can you be happy with me?” He barely said it, his pulse in his ears deafening him. The whole world hung on her next words.

  “I think I can,” she said.

  She thought she could? Was it enough to build a marriage upon?

  She smiled. “I would certainly be desperately unhappy without you.”

  The warmth of his relief seeped into a smile of his own. “Should I understand that you love me, as I love you?”

  “You may understand whatever you like.” Her lips twitched but she kept a straight face.

  “I like this.” He leaned down and gently kissed her, reveling in her soft nearness. She slid her arms around his waist and returned his kiss with her own. Donnerwetter, how he loved and wanted her. He held her close.

  “You seem to have reached an agreement.” Mr. Hanby had entered without Johann hearing and stood in the doorway, looking pleased. Johann released Susanna and straightened his linen coat, feeling like a schoolboy caught kissing the prettiest girl in class.

  “I have accepted, Uncle.” Susanna sounded happy—it made his heart lift.

  “Then the next stop must be the courthouse. Come along.” Mr. Hanby sounded pragmatic, but his eyes were dancing and his white hair looked almost rakish over his brow.

  Susanna walked to her uncle with a resolute and confident step.

  Johann had never seen anything so beautiful as her form gliding in the yellow dress across the black-and-white floor. He followed with rising joy. Thank you, Lord. Beyond that was too deep for words, like a brush with heaven.

  Susanna could not dispel the cloud of unreality that followed their small party through the streets to the courthouse, blurring the events there. Thank goodness Uncle Will had married hundreds of couples and knew the legal requirements well. They made their way to the probate court, where a judge asked her to swear that she was over eighteen years of age, not previously married, and not closer than a second cousin of Johann’s. She answered in a clear affirmative. Similar words were addressed to Johann, who stated his eligibility to marry. The judge inscribed their names on a license, signed it, and handed it to Johann. Both Aunt Ann and Rachel were solemn. Susanna felt like shaking her head to get rid of the daze, but she took Johann’s arm and walked out like any other young affianced couple.

  When they had descended the steps of the courthouse to the street, he turned to her and stopped. “Would you like to see the license?” He retrieved it from his inside pocket.

  A stamped drawing of a family surrounding a couple adorned the top of the paper. Two cherubs with bows and arrows flew around the edges of the page. She would have smiled at their absurdity except for the sobering sight of their names written together, Susanna M. Hanby and Johann C. Giere. Below the judge’s signature were the words “Marriage Certificate” in gothic lettering and more empty spaces to be filled in.

  Johann pointed to it. “Whoever marries us will be our witness, here, to the marriage. Mr. Hanby, should you do the honors?”

  “It depends on where you wish to take your vows.” Her uncle adjusted his hat and looked down the street. “I presume my niece would rather not be married here in the middle of a Columbus thoroughfare. Where is your family’s church, Mr. Giere?”

  “Not far, sir. A few blocks. Would you like to be married there, Susanna?”

  “Oh, yes.” She had not considered it, but much better to be married in a church than anywhere else—especially for such a hurried wedding. At least it would be in a place dedicated to God. “I would like that.”

  Uncle Will spoke up. “Then, Mr. Giere, you should ask your pastor to marry you.”

  “Yes, sir, an excellent idea. We worship at St. John’s Evangelical. It’s only two city blocks from here.” Johann turned to look at Susanna. “I would like to make some arrangements, if I can,” he said. “Do you mind if we part company, perhaps for two hours? I will send you, your sister, and your aunt on a mission while your uncle and I go to speak to my family and our pastor. You will not miss your chance to be a bride before you are a wife, not if I can help it.”

  She could not speak, touched by his tenderness, but nodded.

  He fished a gold watch out of his coat pocket. “I will return here for you at three o’ clock. And I will give your aunt something for you to do in the meantime.” He looked mischievous and stepped away to speak to Aunt Ann, who was standing with Rachel by the curb.

  Uncle Will rubbed his forehead with one hand, bracing the other on his cane. “I only regret that your parents will not be here. But it cannot be helped.”

  “Better for them to miss a marriage than lose their grandchildren,” Susanna said. “They will find out soon enough.” She could not even allow herself to think so far ahead. They would marry today, and go to get the children tomorrow. Afterward they could handle her parents and the rest of the arrangements.

  Johann returned, slipping something back in his pocket. His billfold? How strange that he could now purchase anything for her family with comple
te propriety. Sure enough, Aunt Ann was closing her handbag with a glad snap that spoke of excitement. Even Rachel had brightened and was smiling at Susanna, her veil thrown back and stirring in the light breeze that cooled the sunny street.

  “I will be back for you soon,” Johann said. He hesitated as if he would like to kiss her, but with a glance at her family, he refrained. She was both disappointed and relieved—it still felt so strange and new to kiss him at all, let alone in public.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  He caught her uncle’s gaze and they set off eastward toward Third Street.

  “We have an errand or two to perform,” her aunt announced, making Rachel grin more broadly, looking like the girl Susanna had known at home. “Shall we be off?”

  The shops of High Street produced one mysterious box after another until Rachel was weighed down with several bags, and Susanna too. Aunt Ann had been keeping Susanna at arm’s length, sending her to the other side of the street with Rachel so she did not even know which shops her aunt had visited.

  “So I must carry these, but I can’t know what you’ve purchased?” she asked, fizzing inside with thrill and anxiety.

  “Yes, that’s a good girl.” Aunt Ann opened her handbag, took out a bill, and handed it to Rachel. “Now, take Susanna to that ice-cream parlor please, and have something delicious there while I finish up with Mr. Giere’s instructions.”

  The ice-cream parlor was cool inside, and Susanna watched the people go by on the street, letting the sweet vanilla cream linger on her tongue. She hesitated before murmuring to Rachel, “Have I lost my wits, to do such a thing?”

  “No, you haven’t,” Rachel said. “He is a good man. And I assure you I won’t shame you or be anything but a model mother to my children.” Her gaze dropped and she let her spoon clink against her bowl as if she had lost her appetite.

  “I have faith in you,” Susanna said. She touched her sister’s hand, and their eyes met. The flood of warmth in her heart felt like sunlight.

  Aunt Ann entered with a small flat box in one hand. “Time to go back to the courthouse.” She was glowing with pleasure. If she could be so enthusiastic about the marriage, Susanna knew she herself should not worry. Her aunt was a discerning woman.

  When they stepped off the High Street horse car at Mound Street, the courthouse towered over them again. Waiting in front of it was a black, shiny buggy drawn by two gray horses, with Johann sitting in the driver’s seat. “Ladies,” he said, and taking the reins in one hand, jumped down to help them up. Susanna stroked the burgundy leather seat in admiration as he climbed back to the front.

  “Do you like it?” he asked. “It is ours now. My father has given it to us.”

  She could not help a gasp. “That is very generous.” Another thought struck her. “What does your mother think?”

  “Oh, she is not covetous. And besides, he will get another for them.”

  “I mean about the marriage.”

  He looked a little rueful. “She will accustom herself to it. It’s a bit of a shock. But she is a kind lady and she will treat you politely.”

  He clucked to the horses and the buggy wheeled smartly around the corner. In only a few minutes they pulled up before a large church with arched windows and stained glass rosettes over the front doors. Johann pulled into the side lot, jumped down, and hitched the horses to one of the posts there. He returned to hand each one of them down. The ardent look in his eyes and the light touch of his hand sent a shiver through her.

  He gathered bags in his hands, grinning at the quantity, and led them to the front door. “Reverend Purpus told me you could prepare in the vestry.”

  He somehow managed to open the door, even loaded down as he was, and held it for them. As soon as they were through, he followed and set down the bags against the left wall of the small entry room so he could offer her his arm.

  As they walked into the church, she caught her breath.

  Flowers adorned every niche and blanketed the altar railing in soft whiteness. Roses, lilies, chrysanthemums, all in bridal white, pure and delicate. Where the light from the stained glass fell on the ends of the railing, the clusters of flowers were radiant. Tears came to her eyes and she blinked them back. “Did you do this?”

  “With the help of friends.” As soon as he said it, she noticed over in one pew the bent figure of the lady from the flower shop and her messenger boy.

  “I know you love flowers,” he said. “Come.” He led her to one side so they walked around the edge of the pews and up the three or four stairs in the far corner of the church. When he opened the dark, polished door, the first thing Susanna saw was his mother, blond and neat in a well-cut blue dress.

  “Good afternoon, Miss Hanby,” she said with an effort, but it was real warmth in her eyes. “May I stay with you and help you prepare?”

  “You are very welcome to stay. Thank you.” Susanna spontaneously walked forward and kissed her on the cheek.

  The blond, apple-cheeked woman smiled. “It is a surprise, but it is still a happy surprise.”

  Mrs. Giere was very gracious. No mother could be entirely happy to have her son marry a stranger on a moment’s notice.

  Aunt Ann made introductions while Johann went to fetch the bags and boxes. He returned and handed them through to the older women. “Do you require anything else?”

  “No, Johann. Go ready yourself,” his mother said. She and Aunt Ann were already opening packages, but fending Susanna off when she tried to come over to look.

  “I have something for you,” Mrs. Giere said. “If you like it.” She went to the large built-in wardrobe and opened it. White satin gleamed in its recesses and she lifted out a dress.

  Susanna’s hand flew to her lips. It was silk brocade, a cuirasse bodice with tiny covered buttons from the waist to its square neckline. Silk satin ruched around the neck and shoulders. She had never dreamed of wearing a dress like this. “Where did it come from?” She reached out and felt it with her fingertips.

  “The Hosters’ daughter married last month, and she was willing to lend her dress. What a blessing they hadn’t yet recut it for a ball gown. I knew she would be close to your size.” Mrs. Giere eyed Susanna with an experienced mother’s eye. “Let’s put it on.”

  Aunt Ann helped Susanna remove her yellow polonaise and skirt, until she stood only in her corset and petticoat. Together Mrs. Giere and her aunt lifted the brocade skirt above her head and settled it over her bustle.

  “Almost,” Johann’s mother said with satisfaction. “Just a tiny gap at the waist. But it won’t show under the bodice.” She reached for the cuirasse and handed it to Aunt Ann, who slipped it over Susanna’s arms and shoulders. The sleeves ended in the same elaborate satin ruching that bordered the neckline. The back of the bodice extended over the bustle, giving an even richer effect as the brocade contrasted with a tiered fall of silk satin to the short train.

  Aunt Ann fastened the bodice and stepped back to admire the effect. “My word. And we’re not even finished.” She turned to one of the bags and rummaged in it for the largest box. Lifting the lid, she took out a dainty white hat adorned with tiny white satin roses and two narrow, gauzy strands of veil trailing behind. “I knew this would be to your taste,” she said.

  “It’s exquisite.” Susanna could not stop smiling as her aunt pinned on the hat with long hat pins, hiding them in Susanna’s thick hair. Rachel brought white satin gloves and slipped them over Susanna’s hands.

  For this last-minute wedding in a borrowed dress, she would be attired more beautifully than she could ever have been with a traditional engagement. God seemed to be blessing their marriage already. But of course he would bless Johann—how many men would take in this brood of children and their mother, with such generosity?

  They fussed over her hair and adjusted her train until a knock came at the door.

  “Is the bride ready?” It was Uncle Will’s voice.

  Aunt Ann opened the door. “She is. And the groom
?”

  “Ready and waiting.”

  “Then we should take our seats,” Mrs. Giere said. She, Rachel, and Aunt Ann went out past Uncle Will, leaving him alone with Susanna, looking her up and down. “You’re more an angel than a woman,” he said, his courtly dignity never more touching. “May I have the honor of escorting you down the aisle?”

  She just smiled, afraid she would lose her self-possession if she said anything.

  “This way,” he said, pointing with his cane to the back of the vestry. When they rounded the wardrobe, a side door came into view. “Mr. Giere told me about this exit,” he said.

  She turned and bent to pick up the train of her dress, holding it carefully away from the floor. If they must walk around the sidewalk, she would ensure that nothing happened to spoil the hem. Not when the Hoster heiress had been kind enough to lend it.

  The sunlight was warm on her face, but her hands were growing cold with nerves. It was about to happen. Holy vows could not be broken, and there would be no going back. They turned the last corner and Uncle Will opened the door for her.

  She stepped inside. As her eyes adjusted to the diffused light of the stained glass, she saw Johann waiting at the front with two others. A small cluster of people sat in the front pews. They rose to their feet when they saw her.

  Uncle Will offered his left arm, still using his cane with his right hand. She placed her hand on his sleeve and they began to walk down the aisle. The silence was deep, more reverent than any music—even the muffled sound of their feet melted into the hush. She could hear the silken whisper of her train against the floor.

  She could see now that the man beside Johann was his father, looking very serious, as any father might whose son was taking this leap of faith. The reverend stood in the center with his prayer book in hand.

  There was the matron from the Hannah Neil Mission, standing behind the others, watching impassively as if to register the event in her ledger. Susannah was glad when she passed by her and could only see the florist and family members, Johann’s sisters and his mother, her aunt and Rachel.