Chapter 38: 38. Big Day

'Ican'tbelievedisIcan'tbelievedisIcan'tbelievedis!'

'Calm down, please!'

'Calm down? 'ow am I supposed to calm down? I'm gonna be in a weddin'! A weddin'! And not just any old weddin'—a society weddin'!'

'Yes. But you missed an important point, Cora. It's not yours. The bride is supposed to be the one with wedding jitters.'

'Who da 'ell cares? Real ladies and gentlemen are gonna see me! Dey might even talk to me! And what if...what if Lord John...'

Cora cut off, her face turning tomato red, her eyes gazing dreamily into the distance.

Adaira gently patted Cora on her shoulder and, turning towards me, mouthed, 'Completely mental!'

I smiled and nodded, conveying the message, 'I know. Deal with it' without a single word. I had learned from the best, after all.

'Lilly!' The hiss from beside me came from Amy. Someone wicked and merciless—who could that have possibly been?—had found the whitest, most beautiful, frilly bridesmaid dress in existence and stuffed her into it. 'I 'ave a problem!'

My eyes swept over the lace of the dress. 'I can see that.'

'Not dat, you little idiot! Well, dat, too, but dat ain't my major problem!'

'You don't say.'

'I've got somethin' far worse to deal with!'

'Really?' Blackmail? Bullets flying around your ears?

'Someone 'as proposed to me!'

'Indeed?'

'A gentleman! A respectable one!'

'Shocking!' I grinned. 'You do remember that you're talking to a woman who's about to marry the lord of the manor?'

Sparks flickering in her eyes, Amy jabbed an elbow into my ribs. I, however, was happily fortified with a tough corset. I had done a really good job picking my wedding dress.

'You're 'opeless! I need help, do you 'ear? What am I supposed to say to 'im? What am I supposed to do?'

'Well...' I cleared my throat. 'Speaking from personal experience, you have three choices.'

'Yes?' Amy's eyes flared with hope.

'The first one is to accept.'

Amy pulled a face. 'Urgh! I said I wanted 'elp, not threats!'

'The second one would be to politely decline.'

Amy covered her face with her hands, clearly suffering. 'Politely?' came her voice from beneath her fingers, dull and filled with doom. 'Do I 'ave to?'

'Afraid so.'

'I couldn't just kick him in the—'

'I'm afraid that wouldn't be acceptable. At least not on my wedding day. It would mess up the schedule.'

The desperate young woman gave another groan. Finally, her hands lowered just enough to show her eyes, once again filled with hope. 'And da third option?'

'Well,' I replied cheerfully, 'You could reject him several times but simply be so irresistible that he asks you again and again, whereupon you finally accept, feeling really good about yourself in the process. Trust me, it does wonders for the ego.'

Amy buried her face in her hands again. 'Ye're the worst friend ever!'

'Indeed.' I nodded happily. 'Now, come over here and help this worst friend ever do her hair, will you?'

'What would you like?' Amy's eyes glittered with the desire for vengeance. 'Gorgon style? Haystack?'

'Something more traditionally bridal, if possible.'

'Hm. We'll see about that, ye bloody traitor!'

There were several large windows set into the wall of the big drawing room where all the ladies had assembled to prepare for the ceremony. I settled down at one of the larger windows, gazing out over the path to the village. To my village. Looking outside into the bright noon sunlight, I could hardly believe my eyes. The villagers had been pretty busy while I was away.

'Holy...! What do these people think is going on here?' I sucked in a sharp breath. 'A royal wedding?'

'To judge by the people I've talked to,' Amy's voice came from behind me as she grabbed hold of my hair and twisted it like the neck of a rooster she wanted to strangle, 'an imperial one. Don't ask me why, but for some bloody reason people around here seem to really, really like you.'

She tugged on my hair, apparently determined to add hanging, drawing and quartering to strangling the rooster.

'Ow!'

'Don't fidget!' In the window, I saw the reflection of a wicked smile. 'I'm workin'!'

Oh dear. Into what kind of devil's hand had I delivered myself?

I tried to hold still as the Beelzebub of bridesmaids commanded. However, it was difficult not to want to lean forward and admire the view. Outside, the villagers had erected poles all the way from the doors of the manor to the gates of the church. From the posts, garlands of flowers dangled in the light breeze, and upon the path, all the way up to the church, blossoms had been strewn upon the ground, creating a carpet more beautiful than the finest creations of Persian carpet weavers.

A carpet I would soon be walking upon.

'Lill! Lill!'

The door to the room burst open, and Ella raced in along with several people in her retinue. When I turned to see, Amy gave a determined tug on the reins, a.k.a. my hair.

'Hold still, ye!'

'You're enjoying your revenge, aren't you?'

'Ye've got no idea.'

'Lill? We have a problem!'

'Really?' I asked, this time taking care to hold absolutely still. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her coming around my chair, along with several village women. 'What's the matter?'

The village women were whispering amongst themselves, shifting anxiously. I spotted Mrs Delaney right up front, nearly in tears. Sharply, I sat up, ignoring Amy's attempts to rein me in.

'Mrs Delaney? What's the matter?'

Were the children all right? If the doctor hadn't done his money's worth, I'd...I'd...

'My Lady...My Lady, the...the...' She swallowed. 'The flowers in the church have started to wilt.'

I blinked. 'Um?'

'I'm so, so sorry, My Lady! Old Mrs Battersby was left in charge of watering the plants, and, well, her memory ain't what it used to be, so...' Her words trailed off into silence, her eyes pleading for mercy. 'Please, My Lady, don't be angry! Please?'

'There's no time for that now!' Ella shook her head, wildly. 'What should we do? Where are we going to find new roses this quickly? The gardens in the village are nearly depleted.'

'You've donated your own garden flowers?' I took Mrs Delaney's hand. 'All for my wedding?'

'Of course, My Lady!' The woman bit her lip. 'And now it's all in vain!'

I looked up at her, puzzled. 'Can't you just pick some wildflowers?'

'Wildflowers?' The village women gasped. 'We couldn't possibly! We want to honour and thank Your Ladyship for all that you've done for us, not to shame ourselves by repaying your kindness with weeds!'

Leaning forward, I gently took hold of Mrs Delaney's hand. 'If you want to thank me, tell me how your children are doing.'

The woman's face softened, and her tired eyes warmed. 'Quite well, My Lady, but...'

I gave her a smile, and held up a hand to interrupt. 'Wildflowers.'

'But, My Lady...after all that you've done for us...'

My smile widened and, leaning forward, I whispered into her ear, 'Please. Wildflowers for a wild girl, all right?'

A surprised chuckle escaped the older woman, and she righted herself.

'You heard what Her Ladyship said!' she called out. 'Let's go! We've got to find daisies and bellflowers, and perhaps...' A smile spread across her face. 'Perhaps some wild lilies.'

'Are you sure?' Lowering her voice, Ella leaned closer. 'This is your wedding, you know. You'll only get one.'

'I'm very sure indeed.' Reaching over, I squeezed her shoulder. 'You will be there, along with all the friends and family I love.' I grinned. 'Plus, there will even be the family I loathe. What more could a bride ask for?'

'Oh, Lill!' Ella suddenly threw her arms around me, giving me a firm hug and Amy an accidental jab in the guts. 'I can hardly believe this day is finally here! I prayed and prayed and prayed! I told myself, somewhere in the world there's a right person for everyone, even if they're uncouth and unladylike and trample on people's feet when dancing...'

'Don't overwhelm me with your compliments. You'll make me blush.'

'But I never thought it would actually happen!' Ignoring my words completely, she squeezed me even more tightly, nearly weeping tears of gratitude. 'Promise you'll be there at my wedding, too?'

'If I survive,' I wheezed.

'Oh. Sorry.'

Releasing me from her death grip, Ella peered down at me. 'And you're really sure that wildflowers are what you want?'

'Absolutely.' I grinned up at her. 'Though I may try convincing my bridegroom that they are, in fact, sinfully expensive imported flowers from South America.'

'Lill!'

'Don't look at me like that. If ever there's a time to have some fun, it's on my wedding day!'

Shaking her head with an answering smile, my little sister squeezed my shoulder. 'It is, indeed. I wish you all the joy in the world, Lill. Today and on all the days afterwards.'

With that, she turned and bustled off to help Cora with her dress, and gossip about Lord John.

'Now can I finish yer 'air?' Amy grumbled from behind me, not quite able to keep her vengeful tone up as well as before.

Grinning wildly, I winked up at her. 'By all means, resume your torture.'

Amy promptly obliged. I had to admit, her tenacity was admirable. It couldn't be easy to subdue my stubborn curls and force them into a civilized shape. She worked amazingly quickly and efficiently, and the ribbons she worked into my hair were beautiful. Although...

'White?' Glancing at the ribbons, Amy raised an eyebrow at me.

'Ella picked them out.' I patted her hand. 'Let her have her little delusions.'

'Should I pick out somethin' for ye, too?' Amy asked sweetly. What was this? Had she forgiven my earlier betrayal already?

'What kind of something?' I enquired, slightly suspicious.

'How about some nice undies for yer weddin' night?' She batted her eyelashes at me, an evil twinkle in her eye. 'I can think of one or two nice pieces that would probably get an interestin' reaction from yer—'

'No! No, thank you!'

So much for forgiveness.

'Humph!' Amy jabbed me in the ribs. 'There's no gratitude in this world.'

Without further ado, she continued her ministrations. She was just twirling the last strands of hair into an elegant updo when, from the door, a knock came.

Not two knocks.

Not three.

Just one. How economical.

'Who's that?' Amy and the other girls exchanged looks. 'All da girls are 'ere, ain't dey? Are we expectin' anyone else?'

I raised my hand. 'I have an idea who it might be.'

Adaira's head whipped towards the door. 'You don't mean...oh, no, no, no!' Sprinting forward, she reached the door just as it began to swing open. 'Oh no, you don't!'

Throwing herself against the door, she just about managed to squash it shut—but not quite.

'What, pray,' came a cool voice from the outside, 'are you doing?'

'Isn't it obvious? I'm keeping you out!'

'I had noticed that much. The question is: why?'

'God, don't you know anything? It's Lilly's wedding day! The groom can't see the bride on her big day, before the wedding!'

The door started to shift inwards. 'That, Adaira, is a nonsensical superstition.'

'On the contrary.' Wheezing, Adaira pushed harder against the door, somehow managing to keep it in place. I couldn't keep an eyebrow from rising, impressed. 'It makes a great deal of sense! If she catches sight of your ugly mug she might change her mind before she reaches the altar, and I won't get the sister I've always wanted!'

'Your efforts are somewhat belated, sister. She has already seen me today.'

'Probably just in the dark.'

'Adaira! Open this door at once!'

'You know, perhaps you should wear a veil for the wedding, too. I could ask Ella to ask mother to bring you one.'

'Ah, sibling love...' Ella, who had apparently finished with Cora, slung her arm around my shoulders and sighed nostalgically. 'Isn't it wonderful?'

'Indeed,' I agreed, watching warmly as Adaira and Mr Ambrose played tug of war. Or perhaps tug of door? Hm. That sounded like an interesting game to play sometime, in particular with a bedroom door. But not now. I had a suspicion that Mr Ambrose was here for a very good reason.

I cleared my throat. 'Adaira? Won't you let him in?'

'What? No way! I couldn't just—'

'Adaira?' Gazing up at her, I put on my best puppy dog look. I had been studying in the mirror. 'Please. It's my wedding day.'

'That's kind of my point,' Adaira grumbled. 'But if you really want...fine!' Sighing, she stepped out of the way and pulled open the door. 'You can come in if you absolutely must.'

Mr Ambrose scrutinized her coolly. 'Thank you for the warm welcome.'

Then his gaze swept past her, searching the room—until it found me. His eyes bored into me, devouring the sight of me, my hair mostly done up, a single stubborn strand falling freely down towards my neck. Even from where I sat, I could see his throat move as he swallowed hard.

'There we go,' Adaira groaned. 'Bad luck!'

Really? It didn't look bad from where I was sitting.

Mr Ambrose swivelled his head, looking at everyone in turn. 'Could you give me and my fiancée a moment alone?'

His little sister narrowed her eyes. 'That sort of thing usually comes after the wedding, you know.'

'Adaira!'

'Oh, I dunno.' Amy said to Adaira, her eyes flickering between me and Mr Ambrose. 'In my experience, it's quite possible for unmarried people to—'

I stepped on her foot, hard. 'That's quite enough about your experience!'

'Really?' Amy grinned, evading my foot with ease. 'I'd 'ave thought you'd like some advice before the two of ye—ouch!'

'I'd be happy to hear your advice later.' I pressed down on her foot. 'When we're alone.'

Amy pulled a face. 'Spoilsport. Oh, well, if ye insist...'

Sighing, Amy ambled over to the door, shooing people along as she went. 'Come on, let's go. The two lovebirds wanna "talk".' And she gave a wink so salacious it nearly made Ella faint on the spot.

Whistles and whispers rose from Juicy Jenny and Cora the Curvaceous. Adaira, for her part, stuck her fingers into her ears, closed her eyes, and muttered, 'I cannot see, I cannot hear, I have no idea what's going on here, and whatever it is, it does not involve my brother!'

'Come on, you.' Reaching for Adaira, Amy gently grabbed her arm and started pulling her towards the door.

'...cannot see, cannot hear—'

'Yes, yes, come along!'

Adaira was dragged out of the room, and the door closed behind her, leaving nothing but silence in the room. Silence, myself and Mr Rikkard Ambrose. He was at my side in two long strides. Without even thinking about it, our hands went up to grasp each other. There was no need for superfluous words between us, no greetings, no professions of love. Our eyes said it all.

'What did you find?' I demanded.

'Not much yet.'

My eyes narrowed. 'Don't you try and fool me! I know how you talk by now. Don't forget I asked you how much money you make each month, and your answer was "Not that much. We must work harder!".'

His eyes narrowed infinitesimally. 'You seem to be quite insolent today, Miss Linton.'

I grinned. 'What do you mean, "today"?'

An icy sparkle lit up his eyes. 'Well, Miss Linton—you are correct. I did indeed find something.'

'What?' I demanded instantly. 'What did you find?'

The sparkle grew into a coldly burning flame. 'It is not definite yet. But...I think I was right. I think I've been right all along in my suspicions. Oh, and if I am, if I manage to prove it...'

I sucked in a quick breath. That look in his eyes...

I didn't want to be in the shoes of Lord Daniel Eugene Dalgliesh right then and there.

But before I could ask what the hell he was hinting at, chattering voices approached from beyond the door. One seemed to be particularly insistent.

'It doesn't seem as though we'll get a chance to talk about it now,' I stated.

Mr Ambrose's eyes flashed. 'Damn my sister!'

Eyes softening, I reached up to touch his hand. 'Don't damn her. She loves you.'

He swallowed. There was silence. Silence for so long, I almost thought he'd never speak again. And then...

'She does?'

The way he said that, so unlike any words he'd ever spoken...

So...uncertain. Open. Vulnerable.

It nearly broke my heart. I gazed up at him, and as I looked, reflected in his eyes I saw a family picture stashed under a secret floorboard in a dusty little room.

Oh, what am I to do with you?

Simple, really. Give him what he really needed.

'Of course she does.' Smiling, I stood and stretched up on my toes until the tip of my nose brushed his. 'As do I, by the way.'

His gaze went from vulnerable to fierce in an instant. Hands taking firm hold of my face, he drew me even closer.

'Tell me again!'

'I love you.'

'Again!'

I couldn't help smiling. 'Greedy, aren't you?'

'For you? Always. Now—again!'

'I love you!'

'My little ifrit!' Taking my mouth in a ravenous kiss, he pressed me back down into the chair. His hands slammed down onto the armrests, trapping me in a prison of warmth and wanting. Wanting more. Wanting him! His mouth slowly travelled from the corner of my mouth, down across my jaw, to a spot behind my ear that...

'Oh...Oh my...!'

'My love.' His whisper completed my words. I wanted to say something in return, anything, but all that came out was an unintelligible moan.

'That's it!' Whistles and cheers came from outside the door. A door which, by now, was standing open just a little bit. 'Go for it, girl!'

Mr Ambrose froze.

'You really,' he told me in a voice as cold as ice, 'need to get some new friends.'

At the moment I couldn't help but agree.

'Amy!' I yelled.

'Yes?'

'Buzz off!'

'Buzz?' A cackle echoed through the corridor. 'Oh, so the bees are already 'ere, are they? What about the birds?'

'Amy!'

The only answer I received was another giggle. However, after that, things fell quiet.

'Has she left?' Mr Ambrose enquired.

I listened for a moment—then shrugged. 'I live in hope.'

'Surprisingly,' he told me, capturing my gaze and gently stroking a thumb down my cheek, 'since I've met you, so do I.'

Like a geyser, warmth shot up inside me. I hugged him close to me, and—

A knock came from the door.

'If you do not leave this instant, you harpy,' Mr Ambrose barked, 'I will come out there, stuff you into the closest suitcase and send you back to the den of iniquity you crawled out of!'

There was a long moment of silence.

A really long one.

Then...

'Rikkard Ambrose! Do you think that is any kind of way to talk to your mother?'

Mr Ambrose blinked.

His mouth opened, and....

Closed again.

And opened again.

I considered taking the opportunity to kiss him once more, but the look on his face was just too adorable to ruin.

'Rikkard Ambrose! Explain yourself! Come out here this instant!'

The look. The look on his face...!

Mr Ambrose's eyes narrowed as he refocused them on me icily.

'Miss Linton? Stop laughing!'

'Y-yes of c-course!' My shoulders started to shake even harder than before. 'Right awayhayhayhay...'

'You are still laughing.'

'You don't sayhayhahay....So sohohohory...!'

To judge by the look he gave me, he didn't find the way I displayed my deep and most honest remorse entirely credible. I had better escape before he enacted the vengeance glimmering in his cold eyes. Pressing a hand over my mouth, I slipped out from under him and headed towards the door.

'Rikkard Ambrose?' Lady Samantha started pounding on the door. 'What is going on in there? Open this door immediately!'

'I'm coming, Your Ladyship,' I called, struggling mightily to suppress any further giggling. 'I'm coming!'

Reaching the door, I pulled it open, revealing a less-than-pleased looking Lady Samantha. Fortunately, none of her ire was directed towards me. Leaning forward, she raised an eyebrow at her son.

'What was that about me and a den of iniquity?'

'I said pedigree,' Mr Ambrose retorted, face as deadpan as a pot at the scrapyard. 'A very fine pedigree.'

'Hm.' Lady Samantha gave her son a suspicious look—however, she wasn't very particularly practised at suspicion. All too soon, her expression dissolved into undiluted motherly joy, and she rushed forward to hug him.

'Oh, Rick! Rick, I'm so happy for you! It's really happening!'

I leaned over to Mr Ambrose. 'Now's your chance,' I whispered. 'Still want to stick her in a suitcase and send her off to—'

He kicked my shin. And I, lovingly as ever, kicked back.

'Nnn! Ow!' Supporting myself against the doorframe, I smiled over at Lady Samantha. 'Was there any particular reason you came over?'

'Reason? Reason?' Laughing like a little girl, she nodded and beamed all over her face as a storm of bells started to ring in the distance. Deep, sonorous church bells. 'Yes, of course there's a reason, Lilly dear, yes! It's time!'

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No author's note today, I'm afraid, my dear Ladies & Gentlemen! Having some technical difficulties over here with my computer. Curse these modern non-victorian hell machines! ;)