The smallest grin lit his eyes only and he released her hand then turned to the men behind him. “Well, gentlemen, I believe I have been blessed with a willing bride.”
“Excellent.” Nathaniel came forward and cupped his shoulder. “The moment the sun rises, I shall ride for Reverend Charles.”
CHAPTER SIX
William stood in front of the kitchen fire, gazing at the dancing flames. After only a few hours of sleep, the sun had crested over the horizon, awakening him to the strange future he’d accepted. All that had transpired in the last three days seemed so surreal he’d half expected to awake and find himself in his quarters, ready to begin his daily routine of drills and reports.
He peered toward the stairway where Eliza and Kitty had whisked Mrs. Rone away to prepare her for the speaking of vows while Nathaniel had gone for the reverend.
Could this really be? Should this be? Too many questions warred within him to allow clear enough thought. He breathed out a laugh. In battle, when decisions must be made, when lives were at stake, those decisions came easily. Here, the decision to marry having clearly been made, his mind and spirit fought like bitter rivals. Marriage was not to be taken lightly. This was a commitment made before God that one would love and care for a spouse until death, in all tribulations of life. Was he ready to make that vow? He ground his teeth. He had been once. Had been willing to risk everything for such a life, only to have his heart left to canker in his chest.
The memories burned and he blinked them away as Thomas entered, a brush and mirror in one hand, a fresh shirt tucked under his arm. In his other hand he carried a bucket of water and a cloth. “You best clean yourself up, or she might change her mind.”
William grinned and pulled at the ribbon in his hair, eager to wipe away the stench. “I suppose if she’s willing to marry me looking like this, she’s a better woman than most.”
“That she is.” Thomas offered a light chuckle then quickly turned somber. “Are you certain this is what you want?”
William’s jaw ticked and he pulled off the soiled shirt. “We both know the alternative.” Dipping the cloth in the cool water he wiped his arms and chest. “I could head west, but to what end?”
The fresh scent of the soap almost cleaned away the dark anxieties that coated his lungs. He dried himself and slipped the crisp linen over his shoulders, the clean fabric feeling light against his cool skin. He placed the mirror on the mantel and focused on tying the neckcloth before turning to Thomas. He bound his hair behind his neck, sighing. “There’s nothing else to be done. I shall marry a woman I’ve known for barely two days and become a farmer.” It made his stomach turn the way his mouth could form the words as if he were merely discussing the weather.
Thomas’s expression dipped. “You do not have to give up soldiering forever.”
William scoffed. “Do I not?”
“You must know they will tire searching for you. The siege on Boston and continuing skirmishes are more than sufficient to keep the redcoats occupied.”
He pulled himself straighter. “Is it not cowardly of me to take up such a life when I could make myself useful to Washington?”
“You can make yourself useful by becoming a patriot. There are countless ways for you to be of help to our cause, and no doubt God will make sure your particular skills are put to use.” Thomas joined him in front of the fire. “And I have a feeling we shall discover those ways soon enough.”
A knock at the front door, followed by Nathaniel’s immediate greeting, pulled William back to the place his mind tried to escape.
Nathaniel peeked his head around the kitchen door. “I’ve brought the reverend.”
Thomas left with a nod and William stalled, taking one last look in the mirror. He pushed a hard, loud breath through his mouth. The face of a husband, was it? Hardly. The face of a fool, more like.
Never since London had he considered marriage. Not since her—since Anna. There. He’d thought her name. Allowed it to unearth from the graveyard of his memory. That name carried the dregs of hell with it. He shook his arms at his sides to rid the nerves from his tightening muscles and marched to the parlor to shake hands with Reverend Charles, and to forever forget the woman who had used him so ill.
Perhaps God had found a way to heal him after all.
Even if such a remedy were a hasty marriage to a stranger.
~~~
Anna could hardly breathe, hardly swallow.
She stared at herself in the mirror, blinking, grasping desperately for a semblance of reason. What had she done?
Seated in front of the dressing table, Anna resisted gaining Eliza’s gaze in the mirror. She stood behind her, brushing and finishing Anna’s hair with a delicate pink ribbon. The dear woman, who had insisted Anna call her by her first name, seemed able to read Anna’s thoughts with a mere glance. Kitty had gone home to retrieve a gown she insisted would be perfect for such an occasion. The gesture was so kind it lured tears to Anna’s eyes.
She swallowed and cleared her throat again, dropping a quick glance to Eliza’s growing belly, her own stomach suddenly hard as stone.
Should she tell him she could never bear children? If she did it may change his mind and then what would she do? Be forced to surrender to her father’s will? Nay. This time, she was making the decisions for her future—for the good or for the bad.
“Mrs. Rone?”
Anna looked up.