Page 4

Chapter four

Alexander

Beatrice entered his study wearing a dress in a stunning shade of blue that had once belonged to his mother, and all the air left Alexander's lungs in one fell swoop. If he hadn't been expecting her, he might have thought it was an angel walking into the room.

But instead, it was his bride.

He considered himself very fortunate to have found a bride who was as sweet, kind, and beautiful as Beatrice Montgomery. Or, as she was soon to be, Beatrice Dunham.

He had been anxiously pacing his study yet again as he waited for her to reappear, but she met his gaze with a look that somehow steadied him. It promised she would be with him through this, no matter what, and made him less afraid of the future.

After all, if she was willing to marry him without knowing all the reasons for his urgent marriage, surely she would understand about his curse when she found out.

She drew nearer, a smile beginning to reach the corners of her eyes as she approached and looked him over. He had changed, too. He’d argued that it wasn’t a formal wedding, and Jenkins had argued that was all the more reason for him to wear his finest clothes. Seeing Beatrice wearing his mother's gown, Alexander was glad that he had allowed his butler to send him upstairs to change.

“You look very handsome,” Beatrice said with a smile as she approached. Her cheeks flushed as she said the words, as if she wasn’t quite sure if she should be so familiar with him.

“So do you,” Alexander admitted before realizing what he'd said. “Beautiful, I mean. You look beautiful.”

He wasn’t sure how to be so familiar with her, either. But her smile at his words was big enough to light the whole room.

“Thank you,” she said. “Are you ready for this?”

“Are you?” he asked, searching her face for signs that she wasn't—that she knew what she was getting herself into, that she wasn’t going to back out of the room and run screaming to town, declaring that he was a madman who had tried to trap her into marriage. But she stood firm, a smile on her face, as there always was.

Somehow, his lack of smiles hadn’t run her off yet.

“I am ready,” she said.

Alexander offered his arm, holding his breath until she took it.

They were doing this. It was actually happening.

He was about to marry the librarian in the hopes of preventing an evil sorcerer from taking over his estate.

“Thank you,” he said softly as he began to walk her toward the door.

“Of course, my lord,” she said. “Though you should know, I'm only doing it for the books.”

He looked down at her in surprise, and she gave him a wink.

Oh, she had been teasing him. He wasn’t used to people teasing him, but perhaps he would have to get used to it.

He’d seen hints of this side of Beatrice, but marrying her would certainly allow more of her playful side to come out than the brief visits from before, when she was merely his employee.

“Well then, I suppose it's a good thing we have the priest waiting for us in the library,” he said.

She froze, her breath catching as she looked up at him with starry eyes.

“The library?” she asked, a smile on her lips.

“The library,” he confirmed. “If I must marry you in haste, with no one to see you off, I thought maybe you would enjoy the comfort of having books by your side.”

Her eyes began to mist over.

“That is one of the most thoughtful things anyone has ever done for me,” she said softly. “Thank you, my lord.”

“It's Alexander now,” he reminded her.

Beatrice colored slightly.

“I will try, but it may take me some time to remember to address you so informally,” she said.

“Even though we are about to be married?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Even though we are to be married,” she admitted. “You have been my employer for two years now; that is not something I can forget so quickly.”

“I hope you will forget it soon enough,” Alexander said as they turned the corner and entered the library.

He turned to watch her face, and he had been right to do so, because the emotions that played out there were beautiful to see. Her eyes opened wide in shock and then in wonder as she took in the room with bookshelves along every wall. A sliding ladder adorned the half full bookcases on the western side, and to the north, a wall of windows along the breadth of the room allowed light to flow in and illuminate the whole room in a warm glow. The orange kitten had even joined them, lying stretched out in one particular patch of sunlight, reminding her of Ginger at the café.

“I have never seen so many books in my whole life,” Beatrice breathed in awe.

“And these are the ones that are left after we filled your library,” Alexander reminded her, and she laughed.

“I cannot believe it. Did your mother read all of these?”

“Goodness, no,” Alexander said with a chuckle, “but she loved to collect them. She had more than one bookseller in Riyel who would send her regular packages, and every time my father came back from the city, he would bring even more. Nothing made her happier than when he presented her with a package full of books.”

Beatrice let out a sigh. “I can imagine,” she said, letting go of his arm to twirl around and take in the full sight of his mother's collection. “There must be hundreds of books in here still.”

“Probably,” Alexander admitted. “It wouldn't surprise me if she collected more than a hundred every year.”

Beatrice closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “It even smells like books,” she said, contentment filling her voice. “Oh, I could die happy in this room.”

The priest came out of the chair in the corner where he’d been sitting, and Alexander reached for Beatrice’s arm again.

She startled when she saw the priest, apparently so enraptured by the books that she hadn’t noticed him.

“Hello,” she said, smiling warmly at him.

“Hello, Beatrice,” the priest said.

“He will be happy to tell your father you’ll be staying with me when he goes back to the village,” Alexander told Beatrice. “I wouldn’t want him to worry for you.”

Beatrice nodded. “I would appreciate that, although it’s not my father you need to notify—it’s Thea, at the café.”

The priest nodded, but Alexander was confused. “Where is your father?”

“My father runs the trade route to Riyel,” Beatrice explained. “I don’t expect him back for another few days.”

“He just leaves you at home?” Alexander asked, frowning.

“Yes,” Beatrice said with a slight shrug. “He has to provide somehow. And it’s better when he’s not home.”

“I see,” he said, still frowning. There were ways to provide without leaving your daughter home alone for days or weeks at a time, Alexander thought darkly, and your daughter should never think that it’s better without your presence. His opinion of her father was only going downhill the more he learned about him. He’d made inquiries about Beatrice and her father when she first started working for him, but he hadn’t realized just how little time Gerald Montgomery spent at home.

“If you are ready, my lord,” the priest said, looking between the two of them as he broke into Alexander’s thoughts.

“Of course,” Alexander said, turning his full attention to Beatrice. “Please begin.”

The priest turned to Beatrice. “You are willingly entering this marriage?” he asked, a frown creasing between his eyebrows.

“I am,” Beatrice said with a slight smile. “Thank you for your concern.”

The priest nodded and stepped forward. “Then we shall begin,” he said, and he started the shortest marriage ceremony possible, as Alexander had instructed.

Alexander couldn’t help but watch the woman who was soon to be his wife. He could only hope they would be happy for the length of their marriage, however short it might be. His eyes never left hers as the priest spoke. Even the shortest marriage ceremony, apparently, took longer than Alexander remembered.

But at the end of it, she would be his bride and would hopefully stand by his side through thick and thin.

“Beatrice Montgomery,” the priest began, “will you take this man to be your husband?”

Even though Alexander thought he knew the answer, he held his breath as he waited to hear what she would say.

“I will,” Beatrice said, her brown eyes filling with warmth.

“Do you, Lord Alexander Dunham, take this woman to be your wife?” the priest asked.

“I will,” Alexander replied, the words catching in his throat.

“By the power vested in me, I pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride,” the priest said, his eyes widening as he realized what he had just said. “I—I mean—”

But Alexander didn’t hesitate. He leaned forward, took Beatrice’s hand in his, and placed a gentle kiss on the back of her knuckles.

It might not be the wedding kiss most girls dreamed of, but it was all he was capable of at the moment.

“Thank you,” he said quietly.

“You're welcome,” she replied, a solemn smile gracing her face.

And just like that, with the simple exchange of vows and a quiet moment between them, their lives were bound together, forever altered by the vows they had taken and the uncertain path they were about to walk.