back to the carriage. She wasn’t taking any chance of losing her again, and anyone who didn’t like it could stuff it. They could think her irrational or crazy, she didn’t care. Tatiana was the only living creature in this entire world who knew who she was, and that was not a bond she took lightly.
The remainder of the ride was chaos. Tatiana bounded from seat to seat, panted drool onto an angry Mrs. Moore, waved her tail in Marianne’s annoyed face, and tookevery chance to bark at animals out the window. Marianne did her best to rearrange Elle’s coiffure, tacking the ribbon back into place and struggling to resecure the roses. She used a handkerchief to try to wipe away the smudges beneath Elle’s eyes, and brushed vigorously at the dirt marring the dress. Upon arrival at the small village church Elle was almost presentable.
Mr. Moore was waiting for them, pacing impatiently in front of the church. His frown deepened when Elle emerged from the carriage with leash in hand.
“She refuses to part with the dog,” Mrs. Moore complained to her husband, passing the problem onto more assertive shoulders. “She claims she will not marry the earl if she has to part from the beast.”
Mr. Moore narrowed his eyes at his daughter. “I am calling your bluff this time, my girl. If you think to delay this over a dog, you had better think again. You want it with you? Then bring it. You are getting married either way.”
Elle smiled in relief. This formidable man, with the scowl etched so ferociously upon his brow, was not putting up a fight. She stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek.
There was some fussing and delay in the front of the church, as people took their places, and then the organ started up in an unfamiliar hymn. Louise walked slowly down the aisle, and then it was Elle’s turn, Mr. Moore on one side, Tatiana heeling nicely on the other. At least Tatiana’s fur matched the occasion, Elle thought, and the sash leash made a decorative touch.
The scene had a sense of unreality about it, and her eyes were having trouble focusing on the guests sitting in the pews. Her heart was pounding under those layers of cloth and corsetting, and she realized with detached bemusement that she was light-headed from excitement and too little oxygen. She wondered if she was about to faint.
She felt the brush of Tatiana against her leg and wasreassured. All would be well. Those fairy people had heard her, and she’d be home by this evening, with the memory of a wedding in which she was finally the bride. Her eyes cleared, and she gazed blissfully up to the altar, where her bridegroom awaited.
Henry watched his bride and father-in-law approach, and could not for the life of him decide what to make of the spectacle. The woman had brought a dog with her, into a church, to take part in a sacred ceremony. Mr. Moore looked uncharacteristically bewildered, Eleanor serene, and the dog obliviously happy. He did not know if he should be insulted or amused. It was a lovely dog, but if he had been a more devout man he might easily have called off the ceremony until its removal.
He watched Eleanor’s face, and saw the moment when her eyes cleared of their glazed serenity. Her eyes met his in consternated surprise, then darted around, looking for someone or something that she could not find. Her eyes came back to his, and he could swear that he saw fear in them. Fear, and a displeased recognition. Well, what had she been expecting?
Eleanor had been expecting an old man. She had not, most definitely not, been expecting the obnoxiously self-composed man who’d caught her spying. This man, with his wicked black eyebrows and intense dark eyes, embarrassed her down to her silk-clad toes. She suddenly felt small and vulnerable under all her finery.
She took her place beside him, her hands shaking. When the time came, she repeated her vows, thankful she would not have to keep them. She was so aware of his presence beside her that she caught his
The remainder of the ride was chaos. Tatiana bounded from seat to seat, panted drool onto an angry Mrs. Moore, waved her tail in Marianne’s annoyed face, and tookevery chance to bark at animals out the window. Marianne did her best to rearrange Elle’s coiffure, tacking the ribbon back into place and struggling to resecure the roses. She used a handkerchief to try to wipe away the smudges beneath Elle’s eyes, and brushed vigorously at the dirt marring the dress. Upon arrival at the small village church Elle was almost presentable.
Mr. Moore was waiting for them, pacing impatiently in front of the church. His frown deepened when Elle emerged from the carriage with leash in hand.
“She refuses to part with the dog,” Mrs. Moore complained to her husband, passing the problem onto more assertive shoulders. “She claims she will not marry the earl if she has to part from the beast.”
Mr. Moore narrowed his eyes at his daughter. “I am calling your bluff this time, my girl. If you think to delay this over a dog, you had better think again. You want it with you? Then bring it. You are getting married either way.”
Elle smiled in relief. This formidable man, with the scowl etched so ferociously upon his brow, was not putting up a fight. She stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek.
There was some fussing and delay in the front of the church, as people took their places, and then the organ started up in an unfamiliar hymn. Louise walked slowly down the aisle, and then it was Elle’s turn, Mr. Moore on one side, Tatiana heeling nicely on the other. At least Tatiana’s fur matched the occasion, Elle thought, and the sash leash made a decorative touch.
The scene had a sense of unreality about it, and her eyes were having trouble focusing on the guests sitting in the pews. Her heart was pounding under those layers of cloth and corsetting, and she realized with detached bemusement that she was light-headed from excitement and too little oxygen. She wondered if she was about to faint.
She felt the brush of Tatiana against her leg and wasreassured. All would be well. Those fairy people had heard her, and she’d be home by this evening, with the memory of a wedding in which she was finally the bride. Her eyes cleared, and she gazed blissfully up to the altar, where her bridegroom awaited.
Henry watched his bride and father-in-law approach, and could not for the life of him decide what to make of the spectacle. The woman had brought a dog with her, into a church, to take part in a sacred ceremony. Mr. Moore looked uncharacteristically bewildered, Eleanor serene, and the dog obliviously happy. He did not know if he should be insulted or amused. It was a lovely dog, but if he had been a more devout man he might easily have called off the ceremony until its removal.
He watched Eleanor’s face, and saw the moment when her eyes cleared of their glazed serenity. Her eyes met his in consternated surprise, then darted around, looking for someone or something that she could not find. Her eyes came back to his, and he could swear that he saw fear in them. Fear, and a displeased recognition. Well, what had she been expecting?
Eleanor had been expecting an old man. She had not, most definitely not, been expecting the obnoxiously self-composed man who’d caught her spying. This man, with his wicked black eyebrows and intense dark eyes, embarrassed her down to her silk-clad toes. She suddenly felt small and vulnerable under all her finery.
She took her place beside him, her hands shaking. When the time came, she repeated her vows, thankful she would not have to keep them. She was so aware of his presence beside her that she caught his
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