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Foretold Heart

Page 18

by Camille Oster


  "Very good, my lord," Croft repeated and disappeared to return with Miss Bellworth's cloak and also his hat and coat.

  The air was brisk outside and they hurried. Not that there was much risk of anyone seeing them, except some odd straggler returning from a heavy night. The cloak kept Sylvia's identity perfectly hidden.

  Entering the house was the danger point, but they ensured the street was quiet and still. No one was in sight, except a few costermongers preparing for the day and a coal cart trundling down the street. It was a different world on the streets of London this time of the morning, and Felix didn't mind it. It felt a little foreign, but Felix found it relaxing.

  The house was quiet as they slipped inside. Felix felt a little guilty for what they had done last night, for him deflowering their daughter. As opposed to what others may believe, his intentions had never been ill toward her and he'd known from the moment he'd invited her to stay that they would marry.

  The smell of baking bread wafted up from downstairs, so the kitchen staff were up and preparing. And before long a shocked maid came to start the fire in the receiving room, shortly followed by the family butler who had been hastily informed there was an unexpected guest in the house.

  Dusk was cresting as Mr. Bellworth came down stairs. "What is the meaning of this?" He wore his dressing gown and his wife followed, still wearing her sleeping cap.

  "I beg pardon for the early intrusion, but we have great plans."

  "What plans?" Mrs. Bellworth asked.

  "We are eloping," Sylvia said.

  "No, you cannot," Sylvia's mother replied immediately. "The scandal."

  Her father was quiet. Probably he cared less about the scandal. Felix knew that being married to him would not be a bad match for Sylvia. He was one of the most eligible bachelors in the city, and when it came down to it, Felix wasn't sure the man would stop his daughter running off to elope with him. But this was highly unusual.

  "Well, we are inviting you to come along," Sylvia said with a placating smile.

  "To your elopement? Are you mad?" Mrs. Bellworth said, looking from one to the other, then to her husband, as if he had some answer to this.

  "We're going to Bavaria, to see Andrew, and we thought we'd have a small wedding there."

  There was silence in the room.

  "Alright," Mr. Bellworth finally said.

  "But I have bridge this afternoon," Mrs. Bellworth said.

  "Bugger the bridge," her father said. "Who cares about bridge when our daughter is getting married. Besides, you haven't seen the continent since our own honeymoon."

  "Yes, but…"

  "Go help the maid pack your trunk, Emilia. Quick, quick."

  Mrs. Bellworth simply stared at him for a moment, then suddenly ran out of the room.

  "There is no great rush. The carriage isn't coming for a few hours," Felix said.

  "Breakfast, then. Mr. Wilson!"

  "Yes," the man said, having clearly been just outside the room. "Breakfast. Then if you could see to packing my trunk."

  "Of course."

  "Well, then," Mr. Bellworth said, turning back to them. "Is Andrew aware of this?"

  "No," Sylvia said.

  "Then he will be surprised. Please, come through to the dining room. I'm sure breakfast won't be long. On second thought, I might dress first."

  Chapter 34

  WITH FLOWERS IN HAND, Sylvia walked across the wooden bridge over the stream. The small, wooden church lay along the path. The dramatic, snow-capped Alps beyond the green and peaceful valley they were in. The church might not be grand, but the backdrop was beyond so. Bavaria was utterly beautiful and once here, Sylvia understood why Andrew had wanted to come.

  The breeze was gentle and cool, and Sylvia wore the dusky rose silk dress.

  "Are you sure you want to do this?" Ester asked. "It is not too late to say no."

  Happiness had shone through Ester's face the moment they had arrived. Well, at least once the shock of their arrival had passed.

  "You are not beholden to anyone," Ester continued. Perhaps from Ester's perspective as she and Felix had somewhat of a contentious start to their acquaintance, it seemed like a sudden and unexpected turn of events. "Certainly not some prophecy."

  "I think the prophecy follows our intentions, rather than our intentions following the prophecy," Sylvia said. "It merely turned out to be accurate."

  "Merely. I recall a time when you didn't feel that way."

  "I recall a time when you thought Andrew was annoying."

  Ester smiled. "Things change, I suppose. It is so beautiful here. I am quite taken with it. We are discussing returning, maybe spend a few summers here."

  "That would be nice."

  Looking down, Ester smiled. There was something on her mind. "I think I'm with child."

  "Ester," Sylvia said softly.

  "It's too early to tell, really, but I just feel it."

  Sylvia decided she wasn't going to tell Ester that there was a possibility she might be with child too. Not that she 'felt' as if she was like Ester did. It was one of those things she would keep between her and her husband.

  It was the first time she had referred to Felix as her husband and it was overwhelming for a moment. Not that she was uncertain, but it was a significant change. In a mere half an hour, she would be a wife, and she would belong to another family. Fortunately, Felix seemed to get on very well with her family, so she expected they would remain very close. In some way, she felt as if Felix was adopting her whole family, but that was a good thing, wasn't it?

  "Are you ready?" Ester asked and Sylvia nodded. Everyone else was waiting at the church. The entrance was facing the other way, but her father was waiting for her there.

  "Let's get this done," Sylvia said and drew a deep breath. She was happy and she felt it all the way down to her bones. There wasn't a shadow of a doubt. Maybe if they hadn't spent that night together, she would be more worried, but she knew the intimacy that existed between them and she would not choose to end that for anything in the world. And tonight, and most nights after, they would spend the night together. She couldn't wait.

  Her father looked neat with his suit newly pressed and his hair combed. Appearance wasn't always his highest priority, but he'd made an effort today.

  "Not a bad spot for a wedding, is it?" she said as she reached him. Ester slipped inside the church.

  "No, I would have done this myself if I had thought of it. Emilia's parents insisted on inviting everyone they knew. This is much better. You look beautiful, my girl. He is a good man. I think you will be happy."

  "So do I."

  "I don't think you would have agreed to marry him otherwise."

  That was true.

  "Come, then," her father said. "Let's get you to the altar."

  They walked in. It was a simple church with wooden floors and walls. A simple cross. Technically it was a Lutheran Church, but the priest had agreed to marry them, more amenable because they were foreigners. The organ played a hymn she didn't know, and then she saw Felix. He looked so handsome, and also a little nervous. His eyes softened when he saw her and she knew without a doubt that this marriage was right.

  Her father brought her to him and then sat down. There were only the six of them there, and then the priest and the woman playing the organ, but it was perfect. Just the family. She understood that Felix saw this as a private thing. He was private by nature. Never sought to sway people's opinions or to draw attention. Growing up as he had, there had been too much attention on his family from every quarter.

  Felix looked very serious as the priest read from his bible. Actually, he was translating, Sylvia believed. His accent was strong, but he addressed the small, and no doubt strange, congregation with gusto.

  "And now we must marry," he finally said with a smile. "You must take her to pledge your troth as long as you live. You say with names."

  Felix said the vow, then her. It was simple, but she liked it.

  They exc
hanged rings and she wasn't sure who's hands shook more. The rings had been bought in a small jewelry shop in Amsterdam.

  "You are now man and wife," the priest said and pressed his spectacles up his nose to look at them intently. "And now we have the holy kiss."

  Oh, the holy kiss. That was not how it was referred to back in England, but they clearly did things differently here.

  They kissed. It felt a little awkward kissing in front of her parents, and her brother, but it was the conclusion of the ceremony.

  All rose to greet them. Both her father and her brother shook hands with Felix. Mother was crying and Ester hugged her. It was so simple, but so perfect. All the people that mattered were there, and they were in this beautiful place. The priest drew them away to sign the marriage registry and with a cordial nod, he took the registry away with him as he left.

  "All done," Sylvia said. It felt strange having a band on her finger, but she would get used to it. Could she possibly be more happy?

  "Now we must eat," her father said. "A veritable feast. I say I enjoy their sausages. And that schweinshaxe. Why do we not have those at home? Quite a revelation."

  "Probably a secret the farmers keep to themselves, I'd wager," Andrew said.

  They were staying at a nice house they'd rented by a lake. The woman who managed their kitchen served only Bavarian food, which was rich and hearty, perfect for the farming communities. It was a little heavy in Sylvia's book, but still very tasty. Tonight, however, they had been invited to dine at one of the local gentry, Freiherr von Weizberg, a man they had met in the village a few days back. Very kind and amenable.

  In the morning, they were separating. She and Felix were heading south. A carriage had been hired to take her parents westward, where they would spend a week in Paris before heading north again. Andrew and Ester were staying for a few more weeks. It was a lovely place, so calm and serene compared to the constant hustle and bustle of London.

  After walking over the wooden bridge again, they returned to the waiting carriages. Her family took his, while she and Felix took a pantheon that Freiherr von Weizberg had lent them for the occasion. It seemed a very fitting vehicle on such a beautiful day.

  "Well, here we are," Felix said as he sat down. The driver slapped the reins and they took off at a slow pace.

  Sylvia stroked the leaves of her bouquet. She was a married woman, and she adored her husband. It was strange that they were perfectly able to spend as much time together now as they wanted. They could do the things they were forbidden from doing. Such a large change based on such a simple ceremony.

  The land around them was so foreign, but at the same time familiar. The trees were different, the light was different. The mountains were certainly different, but most things fundamentally worked the same way.

  "You are very quiet," he said.

  "I suppose I am trying to understand how things have changed," she replied.

  "I think it is something we shall both have to learn. But for now, we will travel and explore."

  "For how long?"

  "For as long as you want. We can go see everything and anything."

  "You don't like London so much, do you?"

  "I don't really know it well. I think I shall like it much more when you are with me. Saying that, I am probably not keen on throwing more balls anytime soon."

  "You seemed to enjoy planning it. As I recall, you enjoyed the ball itself too."

  "Yes, perhaps in a way. But I do not wish for another anytime soon. Let's say it served its purpose," he said, taking her hand and lifting it so he could kiss the back of it.

  Sylvia didn't quite know what he meant, but she let it go. Actually, she got distracted by his smile. It softened him so much, she couldn't stop watching him. It also made her a little nervous, because they hadn't been together in a meaningful way since the night before they’d left London. Tonight and every night after, it would just be them. Leaning over, she kissed him, adoring the way the kiss lingered with every one of her senses. Was there anything better in the world than those kisses? Well, yes, there was, but that would have to wait until later.

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  Other books by Camille Oster

  Thief Taker - Former Bow Street Runner, Rowan Cox doesn't usually handle minor cases like housebreaking, but the Commissioner of the newly established Metropolitan police wants the thief haunting the finest houses in London caught. This thief is skilled and cunning, and far from what Rowan expected when the case was forced on him, and she defies him at every turn. Only one will win this high-stakes game and Rowan will be damned if it isn't him.

  The one thing Serephina Woodford cannot do is let Rowan Cox near her, having been warned of his ruthless tactics. She is so close to achieving her goal and just needs to survive a few more months in order to provide her sister with the future she deserves. She just has to be better than the man trying to find her.

  The Notorious Marquis of Wickerley - With the king’s execution, madness has descended on England and Cecily Alderman’s father pushes forward the moment she’d been dreading for six years, her marriage to the most notorious libertine that ever graced the king’s court. Sent to the wilds of Cornwall, she has to face a man exiled from all society, chased by the uncertainty and dangers of a country ripping itself apart with war.

  The contract to be the Marquis of Wickerley bride might be the worst injustice her father had ever visited on her, and dealing with this man who shows her no manners will prove an impossible task.

  An Unlikely Savior - The Revolution is spreading across France and it had reached the stately chateau of Virginie Durmont's guardian in the country side. She had accidentally been separated from the rest of the family and her need to escape France has become paramount, something her sheltered life and refined upbringing has left her unprepared for. Her only choice is to turn to her guardian's belligerent and selfish half-brother, Tomas Sanbonne.

  Virginie is certain that her guardian's faith in his half-brother is misplaced, but her dire circumstances mean she must beseech his assistance. She must reach safety beyond French shores and she will just have to put up with his considerable disapproval of her and everything she stands for.

 

 

 


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