A March Bride (13 page)

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Authors: Rachel Hauck

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Christian, #Short Stories (Single Author), #ebook

BOOK: A March Bride
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Locker room talk.

Avery shoved the box toward Susanna.

Open it!

Susanna grinned, her expectation pinging.

This is kind of fun.

She loosened the ribbon and lifted the box lid. Shoving back a layer of white tissue paper, she sighed, tears springing to her eyes when she saw the pale mauve satin gown.

Oh my, Granny

s wedding dress.

She slipped her fingers through the spaghetti straps and lifted the sixty-four-year-old dress from the box.

Aves.

She drilled her sister with a steely stare.

Where did he get this?


Me, of course.

Pure. Without guile.


And why did you give him this dress?

Susanna held the gown against her with trembling, adrenaline-charged hands.


I was digging around in Granny

s things and—


You found the dress and gave it to Nathaniel?

Susanna inspected the lace and sequin flowers and the gold cord appliqué.

It

s been cleaned and pressed.


Well, you didn

t want to wear it wrinkled, did you?


Avery Mae.

Susanna reached out to pinch her sister

s arm.

You tell me what

s going on right now.

But the lithe volleyball star ducked out of the way.

You
know what? You need to learn to live in the moment.

She scooped a handful of M&M

s from the dish on the kitchen counter.

I

m out of here. Volleyball practice.

She scooped up her gym bag.

Hey, Suz, your gold Louboutins will go great with that dress.


Yes, but they

re in Brighton. And I

m only hanging out at Nathaniel

s cottage, right?


Suit yourself.

Avery shrugged, reaching for the doorknob.


Right
, Avery?


Whatever.

The door clapped behind Avery.


Avery!

But she was gone.

Susanna turned back to Granny

s gown. It was beautiful. Expectation bloomed into excitement as she dashed upstairs to try it on.

She

d discovered Granny

s wedding dress when she was eleven and begged to try it on. When Granny finally relented, Susanna stood in front of the hallway mirror, her lean preteen body lost in the bodice and wide skirt, but her womanly heart was mesmerized.

She

d promised herself then and there she

d wear the gown for her wedding.

Someday. When true love found her. But once she became engaged to Nathaniel and started taking appointments with Brighton designers, she knew she

d never be able to wear something this simple and vintage to marry a king.

In her room, she turned on the light and closed the shades. Shimmying out of her jeans and top, she stepped through the crinolines and tulle, drawing the silky skirt over
her hips, sensing the history and tradition of her grand-parents

devotion slide along her skin.

The dress fit without her needing to suck in her gut or her breasts flowing over the top. Dashing to the closet, she shoved open the door for a pair of shoes. Maybe Avery had a pair she could wear.

She gasped when she flipped on the light. Oh bother, more tears.

There on the tile floor, neatly posed, were her gold-bedazzled Christian Louboutins. All the way from Brighton.

Susanna grinned, hugging the shoes to her chest.
Thank You, Jesus.
She didn

t care how they got there, just that they did. Whatever Nathaniel was planning for this evening, she would embrace it.

Because love was proving itself over and over, and conquering all her fears.

O
n
Friday evening precisely at six forty, Susanna stepped onto the veranda, her gold Louboutin shoes resounding against the wide boards.

She breathed deeply, filling her lungs with the fragrance of the island. With the fragrance of love.

For the first time since she had said yes to Nathaniel, she
felt
like a princess.

The breeze dipped a bit lower and swished the hem of Granny

s gown, twirling the folds against her legs. She glanced down to see the gold and crystal shoes sparkling in the early evening light.

Gracie had insisted on sending a stylist from her salon to do Susanna

s makeup and hair. Lexi arrived at three thirty with her bag of magic tricks to fashion Susanna

s hair into a loose updo with long golden curls dangling about her neck, and to apply her makeup.

A laugh rumbled in her chest. She pressed her hand over her lips, keeping her smile inside, growing wider and warmer.

I am in love with a king. With Nathaniel of Brighton.

She

d been so overwhelmed with moving to Brighton—adjusting to a new country and culture, developing her young relationship with Nathaniel, and planning a wedding—she

d not considered her own royal reality.

Susanna raised her chin to the breeze as it twisted her curls about her shoulders. Reverend Smith was right. Her new station in life afforded her such great opportunities for good.

Oh Lord, use me to make Your Son

s name famous.

She had no idea what Nathaniel had planned for this evening—he

d been unavailable all day today. Something about kingdom business. But she

d planned to surrender her heart fully to him tonight.

If love demanded her whole identity and being, then she

d give it. Unreservedly. Fear had no place in the heart of a princess.

The sound of horse hooves resounding against the asphalt drew her attention to the road as a pair of matched white mares with gleaming coats turned down the driveway drawing a glossy black and gold open carriage with red spoke wheels.

Susanna gasped, pressing her hand over her heart, falling against the porch post.

Jonathan, still dressed in his footman costume, rode on the back. He hopped down when the carriage stopped at the veranda steps, bowing and offering his hand.

Your carriage awaits.


This is too much . . . too much. Jon, where are we going?

She slipped her hand into his as he aided her into the carriage, settling her onto the rich red leather seats.

Jonathan patted the side of the carriage and spoke to the driver.

Be off with you now.

He hopped onto the back as the driver chirruped to the horses.


Burt, hey.

Susanna leaned forward, glancing up at the man steering the horses.

How

d you get this gig?

Burt, a longtime family friend and customer of the Rib Shack, was the owner of Glynn Carriages.

But this was no carriage she

d ever seen him drive before. He wore a solemn expression along with a crisp, dark suit, cravat, and top hat.


Milady.

His gaze twinkled down on her as he tipped the brim of his hat.

Susanna sat back, smiling. Nathaniel was winning her all over again, shining his light of love in the hidden recesses of her heart, those private places she felt too guarded to reveal. Even when she was with Adam, she hid those secret rooms from his heart

s eye.

But Nathaniel

s efforts spoke to her, drew her out of hiding. He made her feel what she

d longed to feel since she first hid in her bedroom closet, turning it into a magical garden as her parents fought the War of the Truitts. Safe. He made her feel truly, entirely safe.

She could spread her arms wide, breathe in life, and know nothing would smash her in the gut.

At the end of Steven

s Road, the carriage turned north instead of south toward Nathaniel

s Ocean Boulevard cottage.


Jonathan?

She peered up at the royal aide-turned-footman.

Where are we going?

He ignored her, eyes fixed straight ahead.

She would see when she arrived. The clop-clop of the horses

hooves paired with the gentle sway of the carriage from side to side rocked her into a sweet peace. If one was going to be a princess, then one must learn to
enjoy
being a princess. She pictured Nathaniel, aching to be in his arms.

Burt called a gentle, deep

Whoa

to the horses as he pulled up to Christ Church.

Susanna angled forward, squinting at the massive glow dripping down from the trees, soaking the grounds in a white, cozy light. Did she hear an orchestra?


Milady.

Jonathan appeared at her side, offering his hand.

Raising her skirt, Susanna stepped over the side of the carriage, landing softly on the ground, shards of excitement fueling her pulse.


What

s going on, Jon?

She held on to his hand, refusing to let him step forward.


You know, Suz, you ask too many questions.

She balked at his abrupt break of character.

Wouldn

t you?

she said, squeezing his fingers.


If you

ll walk with me, and let go of my hand so some of the blood can flow to my heart, you

ll have your answer.

Jonathan twisted his hand from her grasp, making a face.

With a slight push on her elbow, he directed her toward the front door, pausing when they stepped under the garden entrance.


I

ve been silent about things since you left Brighton, Susanna, because it was not my place to speak. But since I

m on American soil, I

ll act the part of an American. Don

t be a bugger.

She bristled.

Jon, look, I—

Susanna broke off, laughing.

Okay, I won

t be a bugger.

He grinned.

I know this is not all easy for you, but you need to know I

ve never seen Nathaniel like this. And I

ve known him a long time. He

s turning his world upside down to please one person. You. He

s crazy in love and using all of his kingly prowess to prove it to you. To prove he

s worth everything he

s asking you to give up. How can he compete with your family? With your American ways? How can he compete with
you
? Giving up your citizenship and what all?

He sighed as if he might regret his outburst.

Just know if you refuse what

s on the other side of this entrance, you

ll break his heart and I

m not sure he

ll ever recover.

She drew a long breath, returning Jon

s steely gaze.

You

re a good friend, Jon. And I

ve no intention of breaking his heart.


Because I know a good thing when I see it.

He smiled.

My apologies for violating protocol and speaking out of turn.


No apology needed when I

ve been acting like a fool.

She kissed his cheek, then stretched to see around the square post of the portico.

Besides, friends speak the truth to friends.


Susanna.

Jonathan stepped away from her.

I

m going to leave you now. But wait here.

He pointed his finger at her.

Your prince will come.

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