Page 75 of Married to the Icy Duke
“It isn’t too late to change your mind,” he remarked.
Charlotte gave a wry smile. She thought about off-handedly mentioning that Thalia had already said such a thing, but that would only open up a new conversation, which might easily take a turn she would rather avoid.
“I’ve made up my mind,” she heard herself say, with more assurance in her voice than she had expected. “I know what I’m doing.”
Gabriel gave her a hand a squeeze. “I know. Sometimes I forget that you’re a grown woman, and not my grubby little sister with a missing front tooth, making mud-pies in the garden. You’re quite grown up now.”
Sniffing, Charlotte lifted her chin. “One is never too old for a mud pie.”
He chuckled. “Indeed not. Before we go in, Charlotte, I would like to tell you something.”
“Go on.”
“It was you who made me understand what love meant,” he said, in something of a garbled rush. “My precious little sister. Even at my darkest moments, I always loved you, Charlotte. I suppose that meant that when other forms of love presented themselves—I am speaking of Thalia, of course—I was ready for it. No matter what happens, no matter who comes between us, you and I, Charlotte, we’re family. We will always be family.”
She smiled up at him, feeling the prick of tears in her eyes.
“Thank you, Gabriel. That means more to me than you can know. And I can tell you that now, at this crucial moment in my life, I can imagine no one but my big brother by my side.”
Grinning, he squeezed her hand one more time.
“Amen. Now, are you ready to go in?”
She drew in a deep breath. “Yes. I’m ready. Open the door, won’t you?”
CHAPTER 22
The next person who asks me if I am feeling nervous,Isaac thought sourly,will get punched in the face.
On cue, the rector came breezing up to his position, beaming all around. He saved an especially wide smile for the groom-to-be.
“Your Grace!” he burbled cheerily. “Not long to go now. Tell me, are you feeling anxious?”
Isaac curled his fingers into tight fists. He supposed he could not hit the rector. Not without enduring some fairly serious consequences.
“I am not,” he responded, tight-lipped, “and I am not sure why a man or womanoughtto be nervous on their wedding day. Have they not thought the matter through beforehand? Fools like that deserve to be nervous.”
The rector chuckled, placing his Bible on the low podium and flicking through the pages. He seemed entirely unaware of how close he had come to receiving a broken nose.
“Marriage is a serious business,” he responded. “Believe me, Your Grace. I have been officiating marriage ceremonies for over four decades. I’ve seen all varieties of bride and groom. And for the most part, I’ve seen how their marriages turn out. I’ve seen grooms white with fear. I’ve watched brides sprint for the exit. Some of them actually make it, too. But out of all of them, the only ones who ended up being truly, inescapably unhappy were one particular type of bride and groom. Can you guess which type?”
Isaac sighed. “I am sure you are about to tell me.”
“So I am. The brides and grooms who found the most singular unhappiness always seemed to be the ones who were not nervous. The ones who didn’t understand what they were doing, the gravity of it all.”
The rector glanced up over his wire-rimmed spectacles, fixing Isaac with a strangely intense stare.
“So, I shall ask you again, Your Grace,” he continued, his fingers stilling on the pages of his Bible. “Are you afraid?”
Isaac was saved from responding by a commotion rippling through the congregation. People gasped and whispered, shifting on their seats and twisting to look back at the closedchurch doors. At that moment, the door inched open, and Thalia came scurrying along the aisle.
She headed straight to the front pew, where Sybella had saved seats for her and for Gabriel, who would, of course, escort his sister down the aisle. Tommy sat between his aunt and his nurse, all dressed up in his finest clothes. The little boy was beaming with excitement, and Isaac felt a surprisingly powerful urge to snatch him up in his arms.
“Aha, here she comes,” the rector breezed, beaming. “I do so love a wedding.”
Tristan was Isaac’s best man, of course. He fidgeted by Isaac’s side, constantly checking and re-checking the rings, which were safe in his waistcoat pocket.
A hush fell over the congregation. Tension mounted in Isaac’s chest, winding around his innards. It was the strangest feeling, and one he had not counted upon.
