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Chapter Twenty-Two

“There is love in me the likes of which you can scarcely imagine.”

Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein

* * *

I t had taken three Sundays to have the banns read, which was how Brendan had come to arrive in time for the Monday morning wedding. They had enjoyed a glorious birthday breakfast on the morning of his arrival, with odd foods from the Ridley family culture that Annabel said she would explain. She had also promised Philip, with a serious countenance, that they would add their own Markham touches to the holiday traditions. He, in turn, had accused her of being too sentimental, but secretly it elated him to build and combine Markham traditions with those of the Ridley family.

After their breakfast, Philip had left the siblings to their private dialogue. As predicted, Annabel had not cared about the siring of Brendan Ridley. In fact, she had expressed her envy that Brendan could honestly claim he was no child of the baron. Later that afternoon, Philip asked with high hopes if that meant that they would no longer have to visit the baron, but Annabel had shaken her head at him. “We must be kind to the baron, Philip. He has no heart, and he has thrown his family connections away. Pity his poor choices and limit our interactions, but kind we must be. He is a man growing old, and we will be there for him even when he does not appreciate how difficult he makes it to spend time with him. Our generosity will pay back dividends in the form of an eased conscience and lightness of spirit because we did the right thing, My Grace.”

Philip begrudgingly agreed to the value in her statements. Although he despised the baron, he would make the effort to maintain their relationship, but only to ensure Annabel’s happiness.

The breakfast had marked the beginning of the festive rituals of Annabel’s departed mother, and Philip had achieved his lifelong dream of the signs and sounds of family filling the halls of Avonmead. He enjoyed married life to Annabel as they found their rhythm, fitting their lives and interests together to form a new whole.

He and Brendan were forging their new relationship while Brendan and Annabel rediscovered their own.

Soon, she promised, they would all venture out to search for greenery and create Christmas boughs. The idea of partaking in an intimate family ritual had filled him with anticipation. He had missed all the holiday family activity since his mother had passed away in his youth.

Everywhere he looked, it was coming up family, as he watched the couple at the front. His wife had insisted on plaiting red ribbons through the bride’s graying brown hair, and the groom loomed over her with an expression that could only be described as … lighthearted?

As the ceremony proceeded in the quaint Avonmead chapel, Philip leaned over to place his gloved hand over Annabel’s. They shared the pew with her brother as they faced the altar and listened to the lugubrious vicar intone the solemn vows. “Mabel Harris, will you have this man to be your husband; to live together in the covenant of marriage? Will you love him, comfort him, honor and keep him, in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, be faithful to him as long as you both shall live?”

“I will,” stated the bride, her hazel eyes glowing as she stared up at her groom.

Annabel leaned over and whispered in his ear, “Mrs. Harris has a first name! And it’s Mabel? How did I never know that?”

“Shhh … do not interrupt Clinton’s vows,” he teased as he breathed onto the shell of her ear, causing her to shiver in a delightful manner. As they sat, hand in hand, witnessing his butler and her housekeeper wed, Philip reflected on how much his life had changed since his audacious wife had stolen into his study … and his heart. He would be forever thankful that his cousin, his great friend, was an incorrigible libertine who had set a series of events into motion, resulting in Philip’s eternal happiness. To share his life with Annabel, to voice his thoughts out loud to a true partner so they never again got stuck in his head, to share a genuine connection with another person … he was truly blessed.

To Philip’s added delight, and in the spirit of family and holidays, a second wedding breakfast would be held at Avonmead two days hence, which he looked forward to as it had been a long time coming, and Mrs. Thorne deserved to find her happiness after such a long wait. Not to mention that the young woman would finally be able to live under her true name. When the two of them had struck their bargain in July 1815, he could never have predicted how long it would take for it all to get sorted out.

He sighed in contentment as he squeezed Annabel’s slim fingers. She was well pleased with his decision to allow his butler and her favorite housekeeper to wed while maintaining their positions. His wife had confided that she had long suspected a love match was afoot after encountering the two servants hissing and yelling at each other on several occasions.

Philip realized he should pay attention to the ceremony, as his thoughts were wandering. Squeezing his wife’s hand, he gently placed it back in her lap, folded his arms, and made a concerted effort to concentrate on the couple getting married at the front of the chapel.