Instead, she turned and grabbed the bouquets from where they had been set out on the bed.
Cecelia's sisters’ were smaller bouquets than her own, but all were a beautiful bundle of orange blossom, baby's breath, and pale orange roses.
And once they all held their own, and their mother stepped back to admire them once more, she mused, “Perfect, absolutely perfect,” and she gave them one final look over before she added, “Girls, give us a moment alone.”
Cecelia's throat constricted. Was there some private criticism her mother wished to give?
Just barely, she stopped herself from grabbing Mary's hand and holding on for dear life.
As if they sensed her anticipation, her sisters paused in the doorway to offer her expressions that encouraged her to be strong.
Sucking in a deep breath, she straightened her back, holding herself with all the dignity she had learned in hours and hours of comportment lessons.
When her mother stepped closer and held out her hand, Cecelia barely dared to take hold of it.
“Look at you,” her mother said in an entirely uncharacteristic emotional voice, “I don't think I have ever seen you glowing so brightly, Cecelia.”
She reached up with her free hand to cup Cecelia's cheek.
“If your father were here,” she added, her voice cracking, “he would be bursting with pride.”
Cecelia closed her eyes, and leaned into her mother's palm, able to picture him there, bashful with the joy of the moment.
“I miss him,” Cecelia whispered, daring to say the words she hadn't been able to utter to her mother once these past few months.
“As do I, my beautiful girl,” her mother admitted, and Cecelia opened her eyes to see a single tear roll down her mother's cheek. “He would be shouting from the rooftops right now. Not even the chapel bells would be able to drown him out.”
They both laughed at that.
Her mother stepped back and took one final look over her before she said, “Let us go to the chapel and make good on the promise we made to him.”
***
The procession across the estate to the chapel was one that filled Cecelia with even more joy.
On the arm of her uncle, Cecelia walked with her head held high, sensing her father walking beside her with every step that she took.
The chattering of her sisters and the flower girls – her younger cousins – who walked before her was a hum of excitement that made her heart swell, and she had to force her feet not to go faster to make it to the chapel even a moment sooner.
There, she was certain, George would be waiting. And she pictured him in all his finery, handsome and hopeful, just as she was.
The chapel bells rolled, announcing the beginning of the ceremony as they walked the long path in. And her mother gave her the most squeezing hug she had ever received before heading inside to take her seat.
“Are you ready?” her uncle asked her, his hand lying upon hers on his arm.
She sucked in a deep breath; the sound of the organ playing inside made her quiver with anticipation.
All she could do was nod, afraid that if she spoke, she might begin to weep tears of joy and excitement.
The moment they stepped into the chapel, all eyes turned upon her, yet she barely registered their awe and admiration as her eyes fell upon the man awaiting her at the other end of the aisle.
Through the clamour of eager chattering about how beautiful a bride she was, through the white rose petals her cousins were throwing about the place, she saw him as if all else faded out of existence.
George stood tall and proud at the altar, looking more handsome than Cecelia had ever seen him. He was the picture of the perfect duke, his hair swept back from his face, freshly shaven, his morning suit with the buttons polished to a fine shine.
At that moment, he wasn’t merely a duke, and he wasn’t merely the most respectable and eligible man in the room; he was George, her George, the man she intended to spend the rest of her life with.
And his eyes never left hers as her uncle guided her down the aisle one trembling step at a time, his gaze offering her the strength she needed to keep her head held high in front of all their beloved friends and family.
