Her lips curled in another smile, and they walked down the aisle together. Beside them, Allan hurried along, clearly trying to usher them out of the chapel as quickly as possible, though it was no easy task, for every few steps, someone stopped them to talk to them.
Mr. Becker had come and shook Stephen’s hand with great vigor. He was there with others from their party at Lady Webster’s house, though Lord Chilmond was nowhere to be seen. Rumor had it he had taken a ship to America in the hope of making his fortune. Lord and Lady Sandmarsh were there, too, but perhaps the most vocal of the gathered were Lord and Lady Webster.
“I knew it,” Lady Webster said as she stepped into their path and kissed Dorothy on the cheek. “Oh, I knew how it would be. Did I not say so?” she said to her husband, who stood behind her, smiling greatly. “Quite the perfect couple, indeed! If my parties produce matches as this one, I must try to have more in the future.”
“Yes, yes, you must,” Dorothy agreed. “It’s as if Stephen and I had little part in it at all, but it was all down to your party.”
Lady Webster did not notice the sarcasm but wandered off, boasting once more about her wondrous matchmaking skills. Stephen coughed to cover up the sharp laugh that escaped his mouth.
“You have no wish to behave today, I see, wife,” Stephen whispered playfully as he led Dorothy out of the chapel and down to the churchyard, where his tenants had gathered.
“Behave? No, indeed!” Dorothy said with vigor. “You are sorely mistaken if you thought I would ever behave, Stephen.”
“I never hoped for such a thing.” He bent toward her and whispered in her ear, “In case you have not noticed, I am always drawn to you when you misbehave.”
The blush that bloomed on her cheeks made him kiss her hand again. He didn’t dare steal a proper kiss, with Allan following so closely behind them.
Stepping into the churchyard, they laughed as Stephen’s gathered tenants threw flower petals into the air, to wish them good luck. More than one man Stephen knew well from his lands called out his congratulations, and Stephen thanked them for coming and their kindness.
At the end of the churchyard was the carriage Stephen had arranged to take them back to his house. It stood there, with the roof lowered to allow the strong sunlight to shine on the occupants. The horses, draped in red and white ribbons, were most agitated by the commotion and surrounding happy cheers, though they stood dutifully and just occasionally pawed at the ground to show their agitation.
“Well, to the wedding breakfast,” Stephen said and held out his hand for Dorothy, helping her up into the carriage.
“You are holding the breakfast, then?” Allan asked, stopping beside the carriage. “Something you said implied that you—oh…” he trailed off feebly as Stephen waved a hand madly in the air to quieten him.
“What’s this?” Unfortunately, Dorothy had seen him do it, and any attempts at keeping the matter a secret were now feeble. “Stephen? What are you playing at?” She placed her hands on her hips, looking quite formidable in her wedding gown made of detailed ivory lace, with the veil hanging down her back now rippling in the wind.
“It was supposed to be a surprise,” Stephen said, shooting a glare at Allan, who was holding his hands up in supposed innocence.
“A surprise? What for?” Dorothy asked excitedly.
Stephen stepped up behind his wife into the carriage and urged her to sit down, then sat beside her. As Allan closed their door, Stephen lowered his voice so only Dorothy could hear him.
“Right after the wedding breakfast is over, I wish to take you away,” Stephen whispered softly. “You have often mentioned over the last few years how much you wish to travel more, to see new things.”
Dorothy’s eyes widened as she stared at him. “Don’t tell me you are to start this marriage by giving me such a gift?” Her eyebrows quirked high. “I haven’t prepared such a gift for you!”
“You have,” Stephen murmured. “You have given me a better gift than you know.” He winked at her.
Something about the day he had proposed to her had changed him. Yes, he was still himself. He couldn’t shed the years of training in propriety that his father had given him, but strangely, he didn’t fuss to the extent he always had before. These days, when he went walking with Dorothy, he didn’t complain if he ended up with dirt on his trousers, or if his hair was wild by the time he returned to the house.
I am free, at last.
Dorothy knew this. He had said it to her two days ago, when they had been last permitted to see each other before the wedding, though Allan had kept an annoyingly close eye on them at the time, insisting on being their chaperone, so that Stephen had had to whisper the words to her.
“Where is it we are going?” she whispered.
“To Paris.”
“Paris!?”
“Well, we shall start there. Then, we shall move on to the South of France. What do you think?” he asked her.
Before she could answer, though, Allan stood laughing beside the carriage.
“Do you need to ask what she thinks?” Allan called, hardly able to control his mirth. “She’ll be running to that ship before you have even packed your trunks. You mark my words.”
Before any more could be said between them, Lady Charlotte and Lady Frederica approached on the other side of the carriage. They reached toward Dorothy and took her hand, each in turn, and congratulated her.
