Romancing Lady Cecily by Ashley March

Author:Ashley March
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Historical romance, Fiction
ISBN: 9781101533390
Publisher: Penguin Group USA, Inc.
Published: 2011-06-18T21:00:00+00:00

Chapter 4

The morning of her wedding, Cecily went through her usual routine. She woke as the scullery maid stirred the fire. She brushed her hair as she waited for her lady’s maid to enter and help her dress.

Her gown was ivory, in the style of Queen Victoria’s wedding gown. She didn’t examine it too closely; her mother had chosen both the color and the pattern. It must have had quite a few buttons, as it took the maid an interminably long time to finish with the back.

Her hair was done simply at her request. Even if she must marry a stranger and behave as a dutiful daughter, at least she could have her way in this small part; no effort would be made to please him with her coiffure. No braids, no fanciful parts or sweeps or even anything other than the plainest of pins. Her small rebellion didn’t matter, anyway; the veil covered all of her hair and hid it from sight.

Her father escorted her to the carriage. The three of them—Cecily, her father, and her mother—rode mostly in silence to the church. Her father attempted to make trivial conversation about the street hawkers they passed, but soon quieted when no response was made to his words.

The church was small. Not St. Michael’s or St. George’s. There was no need for the wedding to be held there, as only her parents and the vicar of the town parish were to be witnesses; that was as her bridegroom had wished it, and Cecily was grateful. She couldn’t think of anything worse than meeting her husband for the first time in front of a few hundred guests. If nothing else, she wanted the privacy for her own reaction and her own thoughts. It would be difficult enough hiding her repulsion from four people, let alone trying to act the happy bride in front of the entire ton.

With her hands clasped upon her lap, Cecily stared through her veil at the curtain covering the carriage window. No call of the coachman or sound from the harnesses alerted her that they were stopping; one moment the carriage had been moving along at a steady clip, and the next it was still, waiting for her to descend in front of the church.

She could feel her mother and father watching her. Without meeting their eyes, she clutched her skirts in one hand while holding on to the groom’s hand with the other. She breathed in deeply. “A beautiful day,” she commented, and indeed, it was—no London fog for her wedding day, but clear sunshine and blue skies with only a scattering of clouds. Even a bird perched on the church roof, chirping happily.

She’d been wrong to only want her parents and the vicar as witnesses. Angela should have been there, too. After all, Cecily had helped Angela prepare before her wedding; it was only fair for Angela to be at hers as well.

Cecily bit her lip as her father took her arm and followed her mother inside the church.

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