Page 15 of The Preacher's Wife
Hubert heard the hesitation in the word obey. Anger at a man he’d never met rushed over him. She would learn soon enough that they were very different people, and that she had nothing to fear from anyone as long as there was breath in his body.
“Son.”
Hubert jerked back, eyes tracking his father.
“You may now kiss your bride.”
The hum of laughter rang in his ears, but he couldn’t think about it. He got to kiss her. He would get to kiss her every day for the rest of his life.
Prudence tipped her head back. His hands settled on her waist, then his head swooped down, settling his lips over hers.It was the sweetest sensation, but Prudence pulled back before he was ready. The shyness he’d fought all his life was nowhere to be found. He wanted to kiss her forever.
His father clapped his hands. “I now present to you, Mrs. and Reverend Hubert Fitzgerald!”
Applause rang out. Hubert scooped Prudence into his arms and raced up the aisle. The others could celebrate with his parents, but he was taking her home.
“We could have stayed.” She laughed into his chest.
He held her closer. “No. We most definitely could not have stayed.”
Chapter Six
As Hubert held her in his arms, Prudence’s heart danced in her chest. The weight of his gentle touch and the warmth of his presence made her feel lighter than she had in years. She couldn’t help but admire the way his powerful arms carried her the short distance between his father’s church and the Holstead house as if she weighed next to nothing.
The gold ring on her finger caught the light, and she couldn’t stop smiling, knowing that they were about to start their life together. As they approached the house, she caught a whiff of his unique scent, a blend of earthy moss and sweet notes of cinnamon and vanilla.
“You could put me down,” she said with a little laugh.
“I could, but I won’t. Unless you need me to.” His chest rumbled under her cheek.
She was feeling anxious. They were now legally bound inmarriage, and he could request intimacy from her whenever he pleased. She had no experience in these things, having only recently had her first and second kisses. Holding hands was new, too.
As he carried her up the porch steps, Prudence’s body jostled in his arms. She couldn’t help but feel a twinge of disappointment when her feet brushed against the floor instead of being swept off the ground and across the threshold as tradition dictates. But with their already nontraditional wedding, she pushed the thought away and focused on the warmth of his embrace.
“Don’t frown. This isn’t our home.” His fingers grazed her cheek in a gentle caress. “We’ll be home before the end of the week.”
Hubert stepped back, pulling open the door, and Prudence let them in through the main door.
“I was thinking, not frowning.”
“Potato, potahto,” he chuckled.
She couldn’t help but admire the way he effortlessly removed his jacket and hung it on the hook by the front door. He even took off his boots before stepping further into the house. That was something her father never did. As she nervously copied his actions, she realized with embarrassment that she was still wearing her heavy winter cloak from the ceremony earlier.
Hubert took it from her hands, hanging it next to his before turning back to her. “You look beautiful.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t think to take my cloak off. Lately, my disrespect of propriety would have horrified my mother.”
“You haven’t mentioned her. Do you miss her?”
“Every day.” Walking around him, Prudence headed for the kitchen. No one had asked about her mother in years. The merethought of her caused a sharp pain, a wound that had never fully healed. So much for keeping that closet door closed.
“Hey,” Hubert called softly from the doorway, “what did I say wrong?”
“My mother died four years ago. No one talks about her.” Instead of looking at him, she moved the bread pans from the stove to the table and replaced them with a Dutch oven containing dinner. Lifting the lid of the pot, she quickly stirred the stew inside while grief swamped her. “I never thought I’d get married without her. She would have liked your mama.”
Hubert coughed behind her, his hesitation to approach her palpable in the air. “I’m sorry to hear of your loss. It sounds like you’ve had enough trials and tests in recent years.”
“We don’t need to be so melancholy. I don’t want to ruin the day.” A sniffle escaped her, and her hands stilled.
