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The day of Mary’s second wedding dawned bright and clear but cold. She could feel how very cold her room was before even getting out of bed, so she stayed snuggled under her blankets for much longer than usual, waiting for the recently lit fire to warm the room.

As she lay there, her mind pondered her confused and mixed feelings.

There was no doubt in her mind that she loved Gregory very much, that he loved her, and they made a good match.

Each of them had unique knowledge, strengths, and weaknesses which seemed to complement the other’s.

In the last two months, they had both learned to lean on each other, and in doing so they had become much stronger together.

There was also no doubt that Mr. Allen approved of Mary’s choice as he looked down on her from heaven. He had told her with his own mouth to marry again after he was gone. He had told her to seek out a man she could love and who she deemed worthy. Gregory was clearly such a man.

Yet, even with such assurances, Mary felt odd.

Memories of her first wedding intruded in her musings.

She remembered her insecurity and the unstable feeling of not knowing what the future held for her.

She remembered making her vows to her husband before God, fully intending to do everything in her power to uphold them.

She also remembered that she had failed to fulfill the vow she had made to love Mr. Allen.

This wedding day was so very different, yet in many ways it was the same.

The vows would be the same, and her intention to fulfill them would be the same.

This time, however, she was much more certain.

She knew she would be able to honor all her vows.

She knew with confidence that came from experience that she would make a good wife.

She was even fairly certain that, should God bless them with children, she would be a good mother.

The guilt Mary felt over failing her first husband would likely never fade.

He had married her specifically to produce an heir, and she had failed, just like she had failed to love him the way he deserved.

The dismay that surfaced whenever she contemplated her failure made itself quite apparent for a few brief minutes.

It was finally broken up when Mary remembered Gregory’s assurance that whatever life threw at them, they would handle it together.

This was so different from the way Mr. Allen treated her.

He had always been the one with power, the one to make the decisions, and the one who dealt with problems. For sixteen-year-old Mary, barely out of the schoolroom, he had been good for her.

For eighteen-year-old Mary, the woman who had managed all her property on her own for over a year, such control would likely have chafed.

Gregory did not even attempt such a thing.

Every aspect of their future lives had been discussed together.

When they disagreed, they discussed the situation until they could come to some sort of agreement.

Fortunately, since they shared the same set of guiding principles and priorities none of the disagreements had been of particular importance.

Mr. Allen had been a good husband, Mary thought to herself, but Gregory would be a great husband and a very good man.

With happiness glowing in her heart at the thought of her future with the man she truly adored, Mary finally climbed out of bed.

A couple of hours later, Mary was standing in her best dress looking at Gregory and vowing to love, honor, and obey him as long as they both lived. When he repeated his vows to her, a thrill went through her.

Once their vows were made and the vicar had pronounced them husband and wife, Mary felt complete in a way she had never felt before. With Gregory beside her and God supporting her, there was no righteous deed that was impossible.

The wedding breakfast was held at Braydon Hall, and all of Mary’s family and friends were there. Gregory’s parents had been unable to travel so far, but she would have plenty of time for them at a later date.

Mary was careful to speak to each guest, accepting congratulations and making her farewells to each of them. She would not be returning to Hertfordshire until next summer at the earliest.

When the breakfast was approaching its end, Mary gave orders for the leftovers to be delivered to those who were in need of food among her tenants. Gregory called for the carriage, with Mary’s trunks loaded onto the back, to be brought around.

Amid many calls of congratulations, the two of them climbed into the carriage and were off.

They would be spending a week in London at Gregory’s home, though they would be leaving the knocker down while they were there so that they were not disturbed.

Then they would make their way to Eastbourne to settle into their new lives together.

They had discussed a longer wedding journey, but neither of them was particularly fond of travel or excessive amounts of leisure.

Once they were on their way, Mary turned to her new husband. She was unexpectedly shy and did not know what to say or do. Certainly, she knew what it was that married people did. She also knew what she wanted to do, but not all of her desires were possible in a moving carriage.

As Gregory returned her gaze, he too was silent. Then he suddenly chuckled. “We are quite a pair, are we not? We’ve been fighting so hard against temptation for two months that now that everything is perfectly legal and moral, neither of us knows what to do.”

“It isn’t that I don’t know what to do,” said Mary. “It is more that I do not wish to get carried away in a moving carriage.”

Gregory’s eyes heated, but Mary had little time to contemplate them. Within moments, his mouth was on hers in a searing kiss, which she returned with fervor.

There is no telling how long it lasted. In some ways, time had very little meaning for them. When they did part, however, Mary said, “Thank you, Gregory. Thank you for loving me. Thank you for waiting for me. Thank you for everything.”

Gregory traced a finger across her cheek and said, “You were worth waiting for. The few months I spent waiting for you are far outweighed by the many years we will have together in the future. Together, always.”