Dauphine took a sip of her tea, stifling a sigh. I wasn’t sure if it had meant to be directed at her mother-in-law or me. “I should have guessed the People of the Salt would have considerably different traditions than us. The flower ring begins the ceremony. Once your guests are seated, the little girls come out. Each girl represents one flower, one symbol. Myrtle for sacred love, ranunculus for future joy, and so on and so on. The girls cast their petals in a ring around the ceremony site to bind the couple in beauty and love. It’s said that Arina herself used the traditional eight on her own wedding day to Vaipany.”
“What a lovely idea,” I murmured as I imagined it playing out. “Rock-roses, I think. Alex used them in a bouquet for me once.”
She nodded approvingly. “ ‘Of this I am most certain.’ A perfect choice.” She wrote it down with a flourish. “Next…your trousseau. I’d imagine you’ll want to send for your things from home but…if I may speak frankly with you, Verity, your fashions lack a certain…style that’s common for women in Bloem.”
Marguerite cackled and I flushed the color of my day dress.
“I would like to help you select a new wardrobe. Your own clothing can be incorporated into it, of course, but there will be so many events over the next few weeks that will require…a touch more.”
“More what?” I asked, glancing at each of the women’s gowns.
“More everything,” Marguerite said.
Dauphine’s eyebrows furrowed in concern. “Oh, I don’t mean to upset you, Verity, dear. I only want to make sure we’re puttingyour best foot forward, yes? This is a different world than you’re accustomed to.”
“I know that. And I wouldn’t want to do anything to cause embarrassment for Alexander or any of you.”
“And you never could,” Dauphine insisted.
Marguerite sniffed in disagreement.
I nodded and she pulled out the calendar.
“Now, the wedding will fall on…hmm…the eighteenth, so that won’t give us much time.”
“The eighteenth of…”
“Next month.”
“Next month?” I gasped. “We’re not getting married next month…are we?”
Dauphine blinked at my disbelief.
“Shouldn’t we…shouldn’t we find Alex? I’d hate for him to think we planned the whole event without his input.”
“He already knows all of this, I’m certain. You’ve seen how devout he is and there are only a handful of dates sacred enough for a wedding. The eighteenth is the next one. If we don’t choose that, you wouldn’t be able to be married until”—she flipped through half a dozen pages, scouring the squares—“late fall.”
“That wouldn’t be so bad, though, would it? It would give us time to plan everything…send out invitations, make sure people will be able to attend.”
Dauphine looked horrified. “Why wouldn’t they attend?”
“Just…with it coming up so soon, I’m sure people have already committed to other—”
Marguerite’s hand fell upon the tabletop, jostling the cups and saucers with a clatter. “What on earth could be more important than a wedding? The joining of two souls. If you don’tcomprehend the magnitude of what you’re getting yourself into, girl, then you ought to give my grandson back his ring and be gone from us.” She held out her hand, as if expecting me to acquiesce then and there.
“Mother!” a new voice rang out. Our heads snapped toward the house where Gerard stood, paused on the terrace threshold, listening to every hateful word Marguerite uttered. “I’m sorry to interrupt your tea, ladies, but Mother and I need to speak. Now.”
“But—”
“Now,” he repeated firmly, and came forward to pull her chair out from the table. It almost seemed like a gesture of polite deference, but I saw the tips of his fingers curved around the chair’s back, white-hot in his anger.
I wanted to speak up, wanted to say something to assure everyone that Alex had made the right choice, that I would be the right match for him—for the family—but I couldn’t. I didn’t have the words, wasn’t sure of the proper way to approach it.
With a brisk nod to Dauphine, then me, Gerard left, escorting Marguerite from the table with a firm grip around her elbow. We listened to their retreating footsteps in silence.
“So…,” Dauphine began after a long moment. Her smile looked too forced. “The eighteenth. We’ll need dresses for the engagement party, the blessing ceremony…” Dauphine ran a finger over the weeks, reading her notes. “There’s the Peaseblossoms’ anniversary celebration. And the opening of the new botanical gardens—you’re going to love the lily pond, it’s magnificent….”
“And the wedding, of course,” I joked, trying to lighten the air between us. She didn’t laugh. “I’ll have to return to Salann, at least twice, I suppose.” I already dreaded the thought.
