Chapter sixty
Tons of majordomos had been hired for the job, a dangerous one given the risk of being trampled upon. Continuously, they nudged their bodies against the crowd at either side of the cobbled street.
As Elizabeth had put it, it was the grandest event in England; everyone wanted to see!
Two carriages made of white oak and gold prints rolled upon the stones just between the hustling and bustling lines of the crowd at their sides. The majordomos were almost having trouble keeping them behind the invisible tape. But when the carriages came to a halt, the uproar just doubled.
Uniformly, footmen stalked to the doors and pulled them open, tipping their bodies down in a half bow for whoever was to emerge.
Now everywhere quietened except for the murmur streak of anxious waiters.
Carriage one released the English blonde, bound in a dress that almost filled the space behind her. As she was helped down the steps, the sun came in contact with the gems on her white garment, shimmering with the brightest glee. Now her feet touched the cobbled path leading into the church, and with the best smile she'd ever had, her grey eyes gawked around with tears in them.
She was getting married! And the way she felt about it surprised her even.
The fact she killed the man who was supposed to walk her down the aisle didn't really bother her. As she turned to her side, Nathan Maitland approached and arched his elbow, taking his place as big cousin right by her side.
Elizabeth just widened her grin and placed her hand in the crook of his elbow, letting him escort her into the dome shaped church.
Carriage two…
Monica didn't have time to wait for any footman to help her down the steps of her own carriage. She hopped down to the cobbled and squared her shoulders. If this wedding was supposed to be the best day of her life, she didn't show it. What painted her face was the usual look of pride she gave away…and makeup.
Her red hair framed her heart shaped face in tendrils that formed a half mane about her head. Casting the loud crowd a rueful look, she tipped her head to her side for whoever was to walk her down.
Wasn't it her favourite shop keeper…,
Monica grinned when she sighted Braxton approach her with a smug face, "Isn't it the man I used to steal from?"
"Shameless lady," he replied, not minding the fact the future duchess was the one he was talking to. Harbouring a fake glower, he heartily volunteered to father the lady who'd robbed him of everything…including peace. But the deed she had used as a compensation had made him smile.
The lass built him a shop.
Now as they strode slowly down the aisle, herself behind Elizabeth and their veils over their faces, they peeped through to smirk at their grooms upfront.
The usuals went on, "I promise to love and respect you, in sickness and in health, for richer for poorer, for better for worse. Till death do us apart, " went undisturbed.
Monica almost found such a commitment highly restricting. But with her green eyes on the one and only prize she'd always sought after, she would have included going to the moon and back to one of those vows.
Philip was tucked in a shiny dark colored coat over gold breeches. And that hair she loved so much was left to drop down his back, as though he'd known she'd admire.
With his amber eyes speaking many other vows to her as they looked into hers, he smiled.
His mind went back to the childish swordfight between them, the first time he'd seen her while they waltzed in his engagement, that moment she knelt before them all as a thief, her threatening letters. Or why would he forget their spicy trip to London. He had to admit how he cherished every bit of sin they committed together.
"You may kiss the bride," came  Reverend Ramiro's voice in the daintiest of whispers.
As he imagined now being husband to this one Scottish devil, life had all its fulfillment if he were asked. And ever so slowly, he bent over to trap her lips in a kiss, that heart warming one they always shared.
When it lasted for more than it should have, he reminded himself they were in the house of God and unwillingly drew back from her while running a gentle finger along her cheek. It still seemed like a dream come true.
Earl's kiss with Elizabeth had no atom of innocence in it, house of the Lord or not.
Being one of their first, the Marquess was still surprised how good she tasted and given his type of person, he savoured deeper in ways that made Jason roll his eyes away in disgust.
The Earl of Vetcom caressed the tiny bump that protruded from beneath his wife's dress, then took one look at the couples, then back to his wife and he felt blessed all over again.
When he noticed tears sting his eyes, he bowed his head to plant a kiss on Mildred's lips. He was happy.
And he couldn't help but admit how elated it made him feel that Monica decided to drop by. At that thought, he sent a smile of appreciation to the lady.
Raymond and his brother, Timothy had a totally different idea about marriage. As Princes, being casanovas was almost a duty until it bored them. Which they doubted.
Peter…his plan was to dine in the merriment of his friends. If he had any plans for commitment, he already had just one lady in mind.
Now…he returned his gaze to the couples beaming youthfully, as beautiful as gems. And for now… for now, he was sure this was all the happiness he needed.