Left At The Crooked Pine

Bianca stood in front of her mirror hyperventilating. Juliana, Kate and Maddie stood behind her in a semi circle all smiling broadly. Her trunks stood by her door, full of her new trousseau. Maddie rubbed her back soothingly.

“It will be fine, like you said Mitchell is a good man. And you look beautiful he won’t be able to say no.”

“Are you sure? Maybe I should have worn white. I look brazen.” Bianca asked nervously.

“The turquoise dress is perfect for you Bia. Who cares what other people say, you look beautiful and sophisticated.”

Bianca stared at herself in the mirror a bit longer. She wore the low cut blue dress she’d been wearing the night she’d met Mitchell, with her grandmother’s locket that he had returned to her last Sunday. She’d been so happy she had been tempted to hug him in public, although she didn’t. Juliana had threaded thin gold chains with little turquoise gems studding it through Bianca's blonde hair, twisting it up into an intricate plaited bun. She did look beautiful she supposed but she would stand out so much. This might not be the best idea.

“You are fine!” Kate said getting exasperated with Bianca's nerves. “Come on we need to leave for church. You can’t be late for your own wedding.”

“This is rather unusual you know, Mitchell will get to see you before the wedding because you both have to attend church first.” Maddie observed randomly. They all burst into nervous laughter. Jon came in then and kissed his wife hello quickly. Even he was smiling today.

“Time to go. Ready?” he asked.

“No.” Bianca said but the women dragged her away from her mirror and Jonnie followed them out the room, lugging Bianca's cases.

~

The priest seemed to drone on and on, the service never ending and of absolutely no interest to either Bianca or Mitchell. Bianca sat there staring alternately at her lap where she was twisting her handkerchief into knots nervously or gazing apprehensively at Mitchell. He was sat in his private pew on the opposite side of the church, all alone in the row, except for Yates who sat at the other end. He was scowling Bianca noted, fighting the urge to be sick, her stomach rolling like she was on a boat. But Mitchell wasn’t scowling at the idea of marrying Bianca though, quite the opposite in fact he was glad he was marrying her. It was the letter he had received that morning from his solicitors regarding a clause in the last Duke of Connaught's will that he had no recollection of being there. He had remembered the will had stipulated he had to marry with in five years of receiving the title but he’d been in no hurry to fulfil that need until he had met Bianca. But this other section in the will had him more worried, it stated that once marrying the new Duke had to produce an heir, male or female, with in the year or lose a £1000 of his fortune every year until such time as an heir was produced. It was a steep penalty for something that could not be guaranteed to happen, but the Duke had been determined the next time the title was passed on it was to a close family member not a distant relative. Mitchell did not relish this idea, he had been determined never to have children of his own, but that would have to change now. This was not a good idea, his scowl deepened. Then he realised the priest had just completed the closing prayer and the banns were being called. This was it, after everyone had left him and Bianca would be tied together for life, for better or worse, most likely worse Mitchell thought grimly.

The priest announced mass was over and that was the sign that everyone could leave. Jon and Kate, Ellis and Maddie, Bianca, Frank and Juliana, and all their respective children from just a few months old to six sat impatiently in the Carlyle’s private pew waiting for people to start to leave. No-one moved. The priest shifted anxiously behind the pulpit. He knew that Lord Butler would not be happy this private ceremony was no longer going to be private. But to his and some of the self-imposing guests surprise Jon didn’t say anything, although those sat next to him could see the vein in his temple throb angrily. Ellis had to stifle a laugh at his friend’s outrage. The priest cleared his throat and asked,

“May I begin?” Everyone in the wedding party nodded. “Can the intended couple please stand and come to the front.”

Bianca and Mitchell stood in unison and took the few steps that it took to get them in place before the priest. Bianca was so grateful it was only such a short way as her legs felt weak beneath her. Almost without her noticing Mitchell took her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. It was like he had taken some of her nerves from her and she felt so grateful as he kept her hand in his. Neither really listened as the priest told them about marriage. Then the vows started and they tensed alert and well aware of what they were about to being doing.

“Who gives this woman to this man?” the priest asked, eyeing the front apprehensively. Where was her father? Dead, but he did not know that. Instead Jon stood gravely.

“I do.” The whole row let out a sigh of relief as he sat down again, they had half been expecting him to say nothing so the marriage could not take place. Only the children were feeling relaxed, giggling at the sight of Bianca holding hands with a man. The priest reeled out the rest of the marriage vows by rote and Mitchell recited them firmly; they reiterated all the more to him his new duty to Bianca, his need to protect her. Bianca did not hesitate in her vows either but she was quieter and more subdued than normal. The priest acknowledged their commitment with a smile and nod then began to finish the ceremony.

“If any one has just cause as to why this man and woman can not be wed, speak now or forever hold your peace.” There was a pause then Jon stood and said,

“I do.”

“No Jon you have said your part already, sit down and shut up!” Kate hissed at her husband whacking him firmly in the back of the knees so he had to sit down. “Excuse my husband, father; he was confused about when he needed to join in. We have no objections legal or otherwise to this marriage. Please continue.”

The startled priest let out a sigh of relief, promptly forgetting this irregular interruption and pronounced,

“I now name you husband and wife, the Duke and duchess of Connaught and Strathearn. You may kiss your bride.”

Mitchell smiled down reassuringly at a pale Bianca and placed a quick, light kiss on her lips. He swept her under his arm so she was held protectively against his side.

“Let’s go home flower,” he whispered into her hair softly. Bianca nodded in relief at the idea. Everyone threw rice and flower petals over them as they left the church making their wedding a fairy tale picture for a very un-fairytale like couple. There would be no wedding breakfast, going against current tradition, but Bianca had declared she could not stand a formal meal and they would have one after they had been married a comfortable period of time. When ever in the next decade they managed a semblance of comfort and normality that is, Bianca had thought wryly at the time. The whole idea made her feel ill again and she sagged against Mitchell weakly. He looked down at his new wife concerned, before making his first executive decision as a husband and sweeping her up into his arms. He carried her into the carriage and seated them both down comfortably. The villagers and other local prosperous people alike cheered them on, calling for another kiss. Mitchell ignored them, much to a faint Bianca's hazy mind’s disappointment, and ordered the carriage to head home.

“Sleep flower it’s been a stressful couple of weeks, nothing matters for now, all can wait.” He told her soothingly as the motion of the coach rocked her to sleep in his arms.