Page 58 of An Amiable Foe
Those words sounded alarmingly pessimistic to Perry, and he couldn’t help but protest. “Mama, you know that in my marrying Marianne”—by George, that’s a mouthful—“we are only adding to our family. You will not be excluded in any way. And God willing, there will soon be grandchildren to dote upon. We shall need you.”
This brought a gleam of mirth to his mother’s eyes. “And I shall be here. No, I didn’t mean this in any sort of morbid way. I only meant to tell you that I have always loved you—this, you know. But I am also proud of you. You might not have been required to struggle for your future once you became your uncle’s heir, but you have had to fight for a place in society, and even for your uncle’s approval. It has not been easy, and you have risen to the challenge.”
She gazed at him with affection. “This, I do not doubt, is due to your character. And now you have chosen the perfect wife for you. You will make a fine husband, and you will make a fine father.”
Perry looked down, touched. His mother had always been supportive, but it meant a great deal to hear it repeated on the day he was about to begin his own family. An unexpected lump rose to his throat, and he only managed to respond with, “Thank you, Mama.”
“Well!” Mrs. Osborne’s tone turned brisk. “I had best let Matley turn you out in rare gig. And I must hasten to the cottage to see how Miss Belford is faring with our Marianne.”
She and Perry had decided that he would go to the church with his uncle, and she would serve as family to Marianne. After all, she would soon be.
“I will see you at the church.” Perry reached over to open the door, just as a second knock sounded. He allowed his mother to step through, and on the other side was Charlie with a tray containing some coffee and rolls that would tide him over until their wedding breakfast.
“Don’t be late,” his mother called out as she walked down the corridor.
The next hour was spent in anticipation that barely tolerated Matley’s fussing over his appearance with greater care—declaring it was an important day indeed that saw a man wed—and anticipation that he was able to meet Lord Steere with tolerance for the baron’s natural prejudices. It seemed forever before the hour had come when he was allowed to enter the church.
The light filtered through the long, narrow panes of stained glass that had been fixed in the stone church centuries before. They colored the wooden pews and the stone floor, and the effect was almost magical, if Perry were of a fanciful nature. He was not, but knew Marianne would find it magical when she set eyes on it.
The few local families who had been invited came in and took their places, and those included Sarah and Joe, who had married a fortnight earlier in a quiet ceremony. He and Marianne had agreed to keep Sarah on as a maid, despite her being married. She would instead train for the position of housekeeper and return to her own home at nights.
The Vernons were not there, of course, not after Perry had learned of Robert’s selfish maneuver to frighten Marianne. The Belfords had been invited and were sitting in their places, and after Miss Belford’s kindness to Marianne, he was more than eager to further that acquaintance.
Perry squinted at the open door and lifted his eyebrows in surprise as he saw Neck stride in. He had, after some reflection, invited his three friends from London, fearing it would be an affront not to do so. He had hardly expected them to come. Neck lifted his hand and grinned, then turned back to wait for Raife, who followed him in. Perry wasn’t entirely thrilled with the idea of Lorry being anywhere near his betrothed and was relieved when the two took their seats without giving signs of expecting another.
Then all other thoughts fled as the church grew quiet. Accompanied by his mother, Marianne stepped into the church, and his vision blurred when he focused his eyes on her.
Upon returning to Brindale, he had been surprised by how well she looked with her hair in the new style that sent sprigs of curls around her face and the modish gowns which fit her petite figure so well. But now… The sight of her now rendered him speechless, left him without breath.
Holding a small bouquet of her mother’s roses, she stepped toward him in a gown of the palest pink, with silver trim that somehow caught the reflection of light and color in the church. Her brown locks had small pink blossoms pinned in each curl, and her rosy cheeks resembled two more. As she drew near, she lifted her eyes shyly to his, a smile trembling on her lips, and he was done for. Today, he would vow to love and protect this woman, and that was precisely what he meant to do for the rest of his days.
“Dearly beloved, we are gathered together today in the sight of man and of God to witness the holy union of this man and this woman…”
In Perry’s brief visit with the rector to plan the wedding ceremony, he discovered that the man of the cloth scarcely knew Marianne, though she had grown up in his parish. This did not cause him to look upon the rector with favor, because he felt he had not done his duty by the orphan under his care.
But now, the sound of the familiar words from the few ceremonies he had attended—words that pertained to him—he was ready to forgive the rector. After all, it was through his offices that Perry might wed Marianne.
Every word of his vow, Perry uttered with quiet fervor. Marianne would see that she was not alone and that she never would be again. Her voice spoke the same vows with her own quiet conviction. Then came the moment when he slipped his ring on her finger, the moment when they were pronounced man and wife—when he was given leave to kiss his bride.
Hardly had the rector spoken the words than Perry leaned down and whispered, “Our first kiss as man and wife.” Then he pressed his lips to hers.
Her hands were on his arms, and she kissed him back. A cloud that had passed over the sun at some point in the ceremony released its rays once again, filling the back of Perry’s eyelids with pricks of light. Or perhaps those were simply from the electric sensation that came from kissing her.
And then there was applause, and even a hoot or two that could only be Neck. It was certainly not Raife.
The ride back to the castle was too short for many stolen kisses, but Perry did his best with what he had been given. After their wedding breakfast, they would travel to Essex so he could show her his childhood home, and they would continue on to the Peak District for their honeymoon.
His uncle would not stay much longer, but his mother was contemplating making her home at Brindale, a thought which suited everyone. He did not like the thought of his mother alone, and his betrothed had delighted him by declaring that it had been long enough that she had not had the joy of a mother’s presence and hoped she would stay.
The wedding breakfast at Brindale was perfect, as Mrs. Malford produced something worthy of the occasion with the help of hired servants. The dining room was filled with laughter and talk, and—unexpectedly—with Raife and Miss Belford seated side by side in conversation that seemed equally engrossing for both. Even Marianne was able to participate and laugh when teased, showing no hints of her earlier shyness.
After the breakfast, as Marianne bade him wait while she freshened up in a private room, his uncle stepped apart from the mingling guests and approached him. “Well, Peregrine.” Perry waited, grateful his uncle had refrained from calling him “boy.”
“I still can’t say you have chosen as well for yourself as you might have, had you allowed yourself to be guided by me—”
“Now, Uncle…” He may have been patient with the baron’s prejudice before, but he was a married man now. His loyalty was to his wife.
“Hear me out, boy.” Lord Steere frowned and cleared his throat. “Peregrine, that is to say. You are a married man now. What I was about to say is that Mrs. Osborne has turned herself out well, and it does her credit.”
