Page 105 of The Reckless Love of an Heir
‘Papa and Mama will collect me from here at ten and drive me into York.’
Henry smiled. ‘I am glad, Susan.’
‘Your parents are not people to miss your marriage,’ Aunt Jane said.
Susan smiled, acknowledging her reassurance, but yesterday… she had not been certain.
‘Alethea is not coming,’ she told Henry.
‘I think we may forgive her that,’ he answered. ‘But your mother will be there, and your father, to give you away.’
‘Yes.’
While they ate, Aunt Jane, Christine and Susan spoke quietly. The boys spoke more raucously but mostly with each other, with odd glances at their father, who did not speak at all. Henry joined in some of the boys’ conversation, but he mainly spoke to her. His attention focused on her as it used to be focused on Alethea.
When she finished eating, she excused herself, only to be met in the hall by Davis.
‘Miss Susan, a package arrived for you. A maid took it to your room.’
Her heartbeat raced as she walked up the stairs wondering what had been sent.
The linen-wrapped package lay on the bed, tied with ribbon. She tugged the ribbon loose and unfolded the linen. It was one of her dresses. There was a letter.
Susan, dear, I am sure you do not want to be married in the dress you left here in yesterday, so here is your pale grey evening dress and your evening gloves. It should not be too offensive with Henry in mourning, but at least it is pretty. I shall bring you a bonnet to match it.
Love, Mama.
The gown was a pale shimmering grey, with shots of silver thread through it, and fine white lace on the short sleeves, neckline and hem. It would feel much prettier than her dark blue day dress.
Tears blurred Susan’s view as she rang for a maid to help her change. She also asked the maid to let Henry know she did not want to see him again before their wedding. She did not wish him to see her in her wedding dress. She did not care that he had seen her wearing it as an evening dress. The success of their marriage now came down to being able to hold on to one single tradition.
When she heard her father’s carriage and came downstairs, only Davis stood in the hall. Henry and his family had left ten minutes before.
‘Miss, Susan.’ Davis opened the front door.
Outside, her father waited for her, he smiled, took her hand and helped her into the carriage.
‘Susan.’ Her mother hugged her when she sat down. ‘You look very pretty.’
Her father joined them in the carriage, the door closed and the carriage pulled away.
Her mother reached for a bonnet that lay on the seat beside her father. It was not Susan’s, it was one of Alethea’s with a white ribbon and white roses.
She looked at her mother.
An understanding smile twisted her mother’s lips, and tears glittered in her eyes. ‘Alethea said you must have it. It is a perfect match for your dress. She wished you to feel beautiful on your wedding day even though she did not feel able to come and see you married.’
Susan hugged her mother again, tears falling from her eyes.
‘That’s enough nonsense,’ her father said, with a wry tone and a wryer smile. ‘It is your wedding day. I will not have any weeping unless they are happy tears.’
Susan’s heart swelled, to hear him speak of her happiness.
When Susan walked up to the minster, Aunt Jane was waiting at the door. ‘Here you are,’ Aunt Jane said, as though she had feared Susan would not arrive.
But here she was, standing before York Minster, about to marry Henry.
Her father had acquired a small posy of pale pink chrysanthemums to carry. Susan clutched the flowers with both hands. Aunt Jane and her mother disappeared into the minster to tell the minister and Henry that she had arrived.
