I walked down the church aisle, clutching my father’s hand for a dear life. I tried to hide my fear and terror from all the gawking guests who stared at me with pity and sympathy. Their looks made me feel even more miserable and I gulped down the tears which threatened to spill down my cheeks.

I fiddled with the fabric of my white wedding gown. The veil covered my face, acting as a shield as it hid my very evident feelings of misery from the crowd and the groom. My hair was clipped into an elegant twist updo with a coronet of flowers sitting on top of my head. The coronet was woven out of pale rose buds and gypsophila stems, picked from Baxter’s garden.

I tightened my hands gloved with white kid into fists, taking a few deep calming breaths. All I thought about was to take one step at the time without glancing around.

I was partially aware of Edith, Jane, Bonnie and Alison walking beside me as my bridesmaids, each carrying a basket of herbs. It was considered a tradition to scare the evil spirits away while scattering about the fragrant mixture. I would much rather see they’d dumped the baskets on aunt Abby for she was the only demon allowed to enter the Lord’s house.

Eventually we stopped in front of the clergyman and the parish clerk, standing next to the mahogany table.

Baxter Read looked rather comical and uncomfortable in his extravagant blue frock coat with white rose boutonniere fastened on his lapel. Underneath the upper layer of clothing, he wore snowy white waistcoat paired with lavender doeskin trousers.

The best man, Lord Bradford Stanley stood next to him and contrary to the groom he seemed absolutely delighted.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today in the sight of God to join this man and this woman in holy matrimony,” the plump clergyman announced with opened arms.

I stopped listening to him, allowing my eyes to travel around the church and at last halting on Jared.

He was slouched in his seat next to Lord Travis and Andrew, all the while shooting deadly glares at my future husband. His clothes were awfully wrinkled and smudged as though he spent the night drinking clothed in his formal attire. Apparently, Lady Wyatt didn’t mind his disheveled state, since she kept lustfully ogling him. My aunt sat next to the lustful woman; her face adorned with a smug smile. There was no doubt how pleased she was with the turnout of her scheme.

“Do you Lady Ashlyn Caldwell take His Grace Baxter Read to be your lawfully wedded husband and live together forever in the estate of holy matrimony? Do you love, comfort, honor and keep him, in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, for better or for worse for as long as you both shall live?”

I suddenly awoke from my daze as I felt how the guests’ eyes expectantly flickered to me. They were like vultures, curiously leaning in as if expecting a juicy scandal.

The minister discreetly cleared his throat.

“I-I do.” I hurriedly stuttered before nervously glancing at Baxter. My heart screamed at me to turn away and run as fast as my legs carried me. But I remained motionless.

After we exchanged the wows, Baxter put a ring on my finger. It was a simple, yet beautiful golden band, engraved with our initials.

This was the first time I actually looked him straight in the eye and by his solemn expression, there was no doubt he wanted to be finished with it as much as I did.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife,” loudly announced the clergyman and blessed our union. “You may kiss the bride,” he urged, smiling.

Panic enveloped my whole body as Baxter slowly stepped closer to me. I couldn’t do this. I wanted to move, to protest but my limbs were numb. He slowly raised the veil, but instead of kissing me he briefly brushed his lips against my cheek.

I let out a sigh of relief, but it was short lived when I realized I’ll still have to go through the wedding night.

I could hardly believe as the ceremony finally came to an end. I shakily signed my name in the parish register.

As though in a hazy dream I exited the church while holding Baxter under his arm.

With his help I stepped into the carriage that planned to drive us to Baxter’s townhouse - now my new home.

We sat there in choking silence, listening to horses’ hooves clicking down the rock-strewn path. The long line of guests’ carriages trailed right behind us, with Papa’s being the closest.

It felt like an eternity until we stopped at a beautifully and elaborately decorated house. Flowers and bouquets were placed everywhere. There was even a path made of rose petals, leading inside the reception room.

After the finished morning ceremony, a banquet for the newlyweds and their guests was to be held in the grand dining room.

Crispy white linen covered the heavy mahogany surface, embroidered with pale yellow sunflowers. There was another bouquet of white roses placed in the middle of long u-shaped rectangle tables, which were pushed together and already served and prepared for the feast.

Lit candles were placed on top of wooden chestnut pillar holders, their flickering flames mixing with the faint forenoon rays. Every table carried a pitcher, filled with either red wine or water, crystal glasses, brand new silverware and hand-woven wicker baskets filled with succulent fruit.

I followed my husband to sit at the head of the table, surrounded by my family.

My father’s cheeks were bright scarlet, his eyes glistening with pride and joy. He seemed ecstatic that his debts will finally be settled, therefore he was completely oblivious to my inner turmoil. On the other hand, Mama and Jane knew exactly how I felt, since both of them kept sending me worried and sympathy-filled glances.

Even Edith, Bonnie and Alison were all unusually quiet. Bonnie’s eyes - reasonably so - were fixed on her filled plate. Her otherwise bright face was now ghostly white, whilst she avoided Jared’s stare which desperately bore into her.

Frowning, he filled his glass with wine and greedily chugged the liquid down his throat.

Next to him sat Lady Wyatt, who possessively rested her hand on his knee, glaring at everyone who dared to raise their eyebrows and question her peculiar preference for the young gentleman.