Page 47 of The Lord who Captured Her Innocent Heart
As was her custom, Lady Chesterton bounded up the steps minutes later, rapping her knuckles across the wood.
“I dare say Lord Frederick Braxton won’t wait for you at the altar, darling girl!” she cried. “If we’re tardy to your own wedding, I can’t imagine what London will say. I will have to close my ears to it. It will break my heart into pieces.”
Ella and Tatiana exchanged glances, with Ella tossing her head a bit. This synchronised eye-roll had been a mainstay in their youth, each time their mother had reprimanded them. It warmed Ella’s heart to know that they still had this between them, despite the age that crept upon them as they moved into adulthood.
Once in the carriage, Ella busied herself ensuring that Tatiana’s entire appearance was fine-tuned: every curl in place, her lipstick kept within the lines of her bulbous lips, her rouge tender and not overly done. Tatiana sneezed twice en route to the London church and squealed between, asking, “Suppose I do that in front of the congregation? Suppose I’m made a laughing stock? The sneezing bride! Imagine it.”
The church had been the girls’ and Frederick’s church since birth, and thus was a welcome, natural sight in the midst of so much commotion. Around them, a Saturday morning in Central London bumbled forth: people ambling about, heading to food markets, carrying baguettes in their arms like prizes, walking slowly, arm-in-arm as they eased towards their destinations. When Ella and Tatiana’s carriage halted before the church, allowing them to amble into the steps of the church, several passersby stopped, gaping with slight smiles spread between their cheeks. It was always a sight to see: a bride, preparing to step forth on this first enormous journey of her life.
Ella felt a spasm in her lower back, recognising that the eyes found her, as well. It wasn’t only her gorgeous sister, as it had been her entire life. Unconsciously, she swept her shoulders back, ensuring her posture was straight, proper.
Of course, she sensed that with every motion she made, she was preparing for Frederick, and thus Peter’s arrival.
In the wake of the garden party, Ella had forced her mind far above the wretched darkness that involved Peter. Each portion of her heart was bruised, dark, and she felt unwilling to dive into the depths to acknowledge all the things it was telling her. Sometimes, it whispered, “You love him. This is the only thing you’ve ever truly cared about in the world. Allow yourself to feel, no matter what.” Whereas, other times, her brain intercepted the messages, saying, “Don’t be a fool. He clearly loves Eve. Or, if he doesn’t love Eve, he’ll find someone else, someone on-par with the likes of Tatiana. The sooner you get over this, the sooner you’ll find peace.”
“The men have already arrived,” Lady Chesterton reported, ambling from her own carriage. “Your father has been indoors to ensure everyone is set. Already, several of the guests have begun to arrive. Lady Braxton reports that the wedding breakfast is being prepared at the Braxton estate. Apparently it will be the most remarkable meal we’ve had in our lives.” She said this with an air of sarcasm, as though she wanted to add:We’ll see if she’s telling the truth.
Always, their mother had an air of waiting for anyone else to mess something up — even the Braxtons, one of the better-known families in all of London.
Ella and Tatiana exchanged glances that held within them all this judgement, all this information. They hadn’t the need to utter any words besides. Ella spread her palm out in front of Tatiana, and Tatiana slid her fingers over it, gripping her hand. Subtly, she squeezed up her face, letting out the tiniest of sneezes. Lady Chesterton guffawed, drawing her nose towards Tatiana’s.
“What on earth?” she demanded. “Tatiana, please don’t tell me you’ve fallen ill. All the precautions we took! All the work we did to ensure that you were absolutely perfect for this day!”
Tatiana patted her free hand across her nose. Ella’s chest burned with anger towards her mother.
“Mother, just look at her,” Ella said, her voice simmering and low. “Just look at Tatiana. She’s absolutely stunning. So, she sneezed. Women sneeze, Mother, even if it’s up to you to pretend that we don’t. Frederick is going to have to get used to it if he’s going to love our Tatiana forever.”
Their mother sucked her cheeks in, giving her face a hollowed-out, skeletal look. She muttered to herself and whipped her hand out, drawing several of Tatiana’s thick, black curls out across the front of her shoulder. Tatiana’s eyes were a bit watery. It seemed she strained to hold the tears back.
But before Lady Chesterton had another chance to utter yet another hateful comment, Ella swept her arm through Tatiana’s elbow and cut towards the large, carved wooden door at the front of the church. Tatiana scrambled beside her, giggling. There was an air about it — as though they were getting away with something that they shouldn’t have been doing. Ella was grateful for it. It was reminiscent of the old days of their youth, lost days when they hadn’t imagined growing old was even a possibility.
Tatiana and Ella awaited the beginning of the ceremony in the side room, off the main foyer of the grand church. The room was lined with old paintings of previous church patrons, men and women who’d given their lives and their wallets. Each painting had captured them in their older age — assuredly, when their wallets had had enough for the sort of honouring a portrait offered. Tatiana swiped her finger along the dusty edge of a frame, which held up an image of a 40-something nameless woman (the name tag had fallen off long ago).
“In just minutes, I’ll be married,” she murmured. “I don’t know if I gave thought to the minutes just before. What they would feel like.”
Ella pursed her lips. Tatiana turned her nose towards the ground, sniffling slightly. Ella thought another sneezing fit would begin. But instead,Tatiana tugged at her wedding dress, drawing it up to show off the glowing shoes beneath. The sight of them crumpled Ella’s heart. They felt like a secret treasure, lurking beneath Tatiana, carrying her forth into her marriage.
“I just want to keep every image,” Tatiana murmured. “For when I’m as old and grey as this woman in the portrait. I want to remember being young. I want to remember loving Frederick as hard as I do, just now. I want to remember the way you look, too, dear sister. For it’s all so fleeting, isn’t it?”
In the main room of the church, the organist had begun to play the first song of the procession. As had been planned, Ella knew that Frederick and Peter were now drawing themselves into position. The rest of the congregation would find their seats, cross their hands over their laps, wait. Perhaps they would mutter amongst themselves, ask if this was truly “such a proper match” or not.
At that moment, Tatiana’s other bridesmaid, Lydia, burst into the room, her eyes manic and wide. She nearly toppled, her knees bursting forward on the white lace of her dress.
“Darling! I’ve been told you’re ill?” she said, her voice bright.
In response, Tatiana let out the smallest, mouse-like sneeze. Lydia’s cheeks scrunched towards her eyes.
“My goodness. What on earth are we going to do?” she murmured.
The weight of this seemed so much smaller in comparison to everything else, so much so that Tatiana burst into laughter, between another little fit of sneezes.
“I think everything will be just fine,” she said, lending Lydia a little smile. “It always has been before.”
Lydia led the march down the aisle of the church. From where Ella stood, still in the back, she noted the strange way in which Lydia chose to walk: her back arched strangely, so that her neck looked almost swan-like, far too long. She kept her nose straight forward, ensuring her eyes didn’t skate about the crowd.
The crowd itself wasn’t so large. They’d invited only friends and family, putting the population up to approximately 65 people. The men shifted, uncomfortable in their suits in the bright morning light. The women’s hats glowed.
Behind her, Tatiana let out yet another light sneeze. Ella’s eyes snuck back to see her. Tatiana just shrugged back. “There’s nothing on this earth I can do about it now,” she murmured.
