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‘I suppose whoever has the greatest interest in keeping you safe.’
‘I sometimes wonder, though, at what point you must abandon safety in order to live. I feel like men are so rarely asked to make these choices. Or at least, if they must, they are the ones in charge of those decisions.’
‘Sometimes you have to trust that those who care for you might choose a better path for you than you would choose for yourself.’
He meant him. He meant choosing for her. ‘Why must I trust that?’
‘I do not have a good answer for you, Beatrice.’
‘That is disappointing. You have no anger for me, and you have no answers for me.’
‘No,’ he said. ‘I do not.’
‘We are to be married tomorrow.’
‘Yes,’ he said.
‘I do not know what it means to be a wife.’
‘You do not have to know what it means to be a wife,’ he said. ‘You will be a wife to me, and there will be a specific way that can play out. But I will make sure you know everything to do.’
And amid all the uncertainty she found that promise supremely comforting. It was all she had to cling to. And cling to it, she would.
Chapter Five
Briggs had managed to procure the licence easily enough. And he had gone back to Bybee House, though his housekeeper had asked him if he wished William to come to the wedding.
‘I should not like to disrupt his schedule.’
‘You do not think he might wish to see you married?’
The only reason that Mrs Brown could get away with speaking to him in such a way was that she had been with the house since he was a boy. And she had certainly spent more time with him than his own parents.
‘I do not think that,’ he said. ‘He would find it dull, and the trip would only be taxing.’
And so he was now at the church, prepared to do what he must.
There would be few people in attendance. Beatrice’s mother, he assumed Kendal’s ward, as she was good friends with Beatrice. And Kendal himself, of course. But other than the minister, he did not imagine there would be another.
No one was in attendance. Not yet. He walked out of the sanctuary, and through to the back, where there was a small garden, and a stone bench. And upon it sat his bride.
He had last seen her on that swing, with the night drawing a protective veil around them.
It was bright and clear out this morning.
He could see her perfectly well, too well. And the vision mingled with the intimacy of the night before. The way she smelled. The warmth of her body pressed to his.
She was dressed in blush, the gown cut low, as was the fashion. But he had never seen Beatrice in such a fashion. She was...
She was a stunning picture there, her elegant neck curved, wisps of dark curls falling down over her pale skin. And her breasts...
She looked up, eyes wide. ‘Briggs.’
‘What are you doing here?’
‘Oh, I escaped. I thought I might come early and...’
‘Thank you for telling me the truth.’
