Page 14 of My Favorite Mistake
A thrill of excitement went through her as she entered the church with Lady Findley. She tried to be subtle as she scanned the aisles, but she didn’t see Nick.
Well, they were a bit early. There was still plenty of time.
The pious Lady Findley’s box was at the very front of the church. Sitting beside her mistress with all of Birchington-on-Sea looking on, Fanny could hardly turn her head to check if Nick had arrived, especially after the service began. She tried to tell herself he’d probably slipped in without her noticing, but she felt on edge for the entirety of the service.
Fanny was so eager to see Nick, she thought she might burst with anticipation as the vicar raised his arms to begin the final blessing. But before he could say a word, a man with a blond beard approached him from the south transept. The vicar looked affronted, but then the bearded man whispered something that caused his eyes to go wide. The vicar nodded tightly, and the man hurried back the way he came.
“Before we conclude our services,” the vicar said loudly enough for the congregation to hear, “I am pleased to announce that we will celebrate a most happy occasion. A wedding.”
Murmurs went up from the crowd. Weddings were supposed to take place on any day but a Sunday, and Fanny had never heard of someone making an exception to this rule.
The church’s heavy wooden doors creaked, and a hush fell over the congregation. Fanny didn’t feel so awkward turning to gawp, as that’s what everyone was doing.
The woman who stepped out of the shadows looked to be about nine months gone with child. She had one hand on her back and her breathing was uneasy. As she turned to say something to her companion, who was still cloaked in shadows, Fanny saw wet streaks on the back of her skirt.
That explained why the vicar was willing to set aside the usual rules and perform a wedding on a Sunday. This poor woman’s labor was already in progress, and if her wedding didn’t take place right now, the child would be born a bastard.
The woman cried out, clutching her back. She grasped the end of a pew, and her soon-to-be husband rushed forward and clasped her arm.
Murmurs of concern filled the church, and that was fortunate, because those murmurs were loud enough to cover Fanny’s gasp.
Because the bridegroom was none other than Nick Cradduck.
Fanny couldn’t breathe. Her vision fogged over, and although she wasn’t the swooning sort, she had to grip the back of the pew to keep from keeling over onto the floor.
The happy couple began their procession down the aisle. Fanny’s cheeks were burning. What an idiot she’d been, to even entertain the notion that a man who was so obviously a rakehell might be interested inher. What had she beenthinking?
As Nick drew even with their pew, Fanny glared bloody murder at his handsome profile. And she was sure he knew she was there. She knew by the way his lips grew tight, by the thick swallow he gave, by the way he paused, ever so subtly as he came even with her.
But he didn’t look her way. He carried on up the aisle as if she didn’t even exist.
Few who were present would say it was a beautiful service. In addition to the bride’s soiled clothing, she had no less than three labor pains while the vicar was trying to get through the vows. Each time she cried out in agony, Nick solicitously held her upright, even rubbing her back as murmurs of concern went up from the crowd.
When it was time for Nick to say his vows, the preacher prompted him, “I, Nathaniel Cradduck.” Much to Fanny’s astonishment, he didn’t correct the man but repeated the nameNathaniel. Why, that miserable worm hadn’t even told her his real name!
She’d been utterly taken for a fool, a feeling with which she had little experience. No one played Fanny Price for a fool.
No one.
After the hasty wedding, Nick and his blushing bride made their way back up the aisle and out the back door. Again, Nick stared resolutely ahead, refusing to so much as look at her. But this time as he passed her pew, she saw him squeeze his eyes shut as if in agony.
Oh, he thought he was in agony now, did he?
She would give himagony.
The final minutes of the service passed in a blur. Fanny stood behind her mistress as Lady Findley made polite conversation with the vicar and a few of her neighbors. Fanny marked none of it. It was a tremendous relief when they climbed into her ladyship’s carriage to make the short drive back to Daryngton Hall.
The whole drive home, Fanny’s mind was awhirl.
And by the time they stepped across the threshold, she knew what she had to do.
“My lady,” Fanny began, “might I have a word?”
Lady Findley blinked at her with her big, doe-brown eyes. “Of course, Fanny.”
“A private word,” Fanny hastened to add.
“As you like,” Lady Findley said, leading her into the front parlor.
