Page 47 of The Baroness of Sin
In Emma’s hands was the dress Martha wore the night of the ball.
“Oh yes, that is perfect isn’t it,” Martha said with a wide smile. She was thankful her sister had chosen to stay, for this moment and the many more that were sure to come after her wedding.
* * *
The spring downpour, and the sunny days that followed had turned the gardens of the lavish homes verdant with greenery, both intentional and otherwise. It was here, surrounded by flowers, butterflies, and the smell of rich earth, that James and Martha decided to have their wedding.
While the house happily buzzed with excitement, preparing the celebratory dinner for afterward, the ceremony in the garden was a small affair, featuring only the priest, the bride, the groom, Emma, and Amanda. The Lord and Lady stood holding hands, and the priest placed the heavy book on a humble table that had been moved to the garden. They recited their vows with their family smiling at their sides and then signed their names in the book to affirm their marriage in official church records. Such a simple thing to sign their names, but they had done few things with more excitement and happiness before.
James and Martha had few friends to invite to the wedding to begin with, so neither of them suffered much guilt when it came to the smallness of the affair. In fact, both were happy to share the wedding dinner with their households’ staffs. Martha’s people had been a bit on the down and out since the fire, and they were happy for a chance to celebrate. James’ household was shaken by the circumstances surrounding Miss Blake and was happy for something to distract themselves as well.
Emma was her usual demure self, enjoying the brief ceremony, the food, and entertainment from the sidelines but generally appreciating the company. She seemed happy that no one in the household seemed brave enough to ask the sister of a lady to dance.
Amanda was the exact opposite. She danced and sang with whoever would let her do so. She was especially clingy to Martha, overjoyed that there was a matron of the house.
“Do you suppose she will think of me as her mother if I give her time?” Martha asked James tentatively, also not wanting to upset her new husband's perception of her role in the family.
James smiled, “I am surprised she isn’t already calling you mama. Though it may be because you're the only lady she has met who lets her refer to her by her first name.”
“Maybe. When you put it that way I don’t know if I want her to stop calling me Martha,” the lady said with an oddly youthful pout.
James, very much in a good mood, laughed heartily at this, which made Martha pout all the more. “Sorry, my dearest. I just know my daughter very well. There will come a time where you will beg her to stop calling you Martha, I promise.”
After dinner and festivities began to wind down, it seemed Amanda tried to make a point of proving James right. In reality, Amanda was simply excited to have a mother, a real mother, for the first time in her young memory.
She brought Martha to every room in the house that had been assigned to Amanda: playroom, classroom, and bedroom. In each room where Amanda had been allowed to leave her mark, she now wanted Martha’s approval too. Not to mention the half-dozen stories attached to each and every object the rooms held.
This went on long into the night. James occasionally would pop in to admire his wife and child together and to watch them interact. He saw no need to try and intercede. He was delighted at how happy Martha was. Perhaps he was wrong. Perhaps, in the best of ways, Amanda and Martha were perfectly suited for one another.
“Martha?” Amanda asked before letting out a long gentle yawn.
“Yes, darling?” Martha asked the child she already held in her heart as her daughter.
“Are you going to be my mom from now on?” the child asked curiously. Martha knew Amanda was a smart young lady but wasn’t sure how much she understood the nature of these things. Martha was happy to deliver the news all the same.
“I will, little one. I will be your mother for the rest of my life, I promise,” she said, running a hand gently through Amanda’s hair.
“That's good.” She gave another longer yawn, rested her head in her new mother’s lap, and drifted to sleep, tired from the day's events.
Chapter Thirty-Three
James and Martha laid little Amanda in her bed and gently shut the door behind them before silently adjourning in the direction of their chambers. An onlooker may have judged the two for youths who had finally managed to sneak away from the watchful eye of their chaperones, such was the glint of excitement they had in their eyes. They were not foolish enough to run down the hall though, the hints of decorum still holding them that much. In a sort of compromise, they did hold hands as they walked to the bedroom, both smiling widely.
As James closed the door to their bedroom, he paused for a moment. “It is an interesting thing, isn’t it, to be married a second time?”
“How do you mean, my dear husband?” James turned as she spoke and saw that she was behind the changing screen. A bit of a peculiar choice on a wedding night, but he wouldn’t criticize her for being shy.
“What I mean is that neither of us is inexperienced, per se, in the way that may have been true on our first wedding night.” He smiled a bit to himself. “I am far more excited than nervous, but on my first wedding night the reverse was true.”
“I would say that I share that sensibility.” Martha came walking out from behind the screen. “What do you think?” she asked with enthusiasm.
James was expecting something of a nice undergarment. He was not expecting for his wife to appear before him nude for the first time with little warning. “You’ll have to forgive my surprise, My Lady, it's not often that I am blindsided by beauty.”
Martha giggled, then her brashness turned to embarrassment, covering herself with her hands. “Stop, you are absolutely terrible to ridicule me like this.”
“Oh no, my dearest.” He strode towards her confidently while removing his own layers. “I cannot believe that I thought to guess how beautiful you were beneath your clothes, but I did you a disservice.”
She was close to him now and leaned her bare chest to his as he finished disrobing.
