Fancy Pants (Only In Gooding Book #1) (43 page)
“She’s trying to find a nice way of saying something downright ugly.” Velma shook her finger at Hume. “You have a mistress and plan to keep her even after you marry.”
Pushing Sydney behind himself, Tim roared, “I’m giving you a chance to deny that.”
Hume snapped, “It’s none of your affair.”
“I disagree.” The parson asserted, “At the outset, Mr. Hume, you stated this was a matter of honor. Was it your intention to take the vows of holy matrimony only to break them?”
“Decent women don’t relish their marital duty. I assumed the lady would be relieved that I’d spare her. Since that’s not the case, I give my word as a gentleman that I’d be faithful.”
“You just implied Sydney is not a decent—”
“No!” Hume interrupted Tim. “That wasn’t my intent. I searched for over six months to find a bride. Days after her father gave his approval, he passed on—yet I adhered to my word and waited a full year for Lady Sydney to mourn. I’ve spent the last months searching for her yet again. Clearly, I’m committed to this marriage.”
Fuller finally spoke. “It appears to me you’re committed to
a
marriage, not to my niece. As her uncle, I’m closer kin than a second cousin somewhere off in England.”
“And he’s given me his consent to marry Sydney.” Tim grabbed her wrist. “Come on, Sugar. This has gone far enough.”
“Wait.” She pretended not to see Tim’s fury. “Tim, when I marry or reach my majority—whichever comes first, I receive an inheritance. Can we give that to Mr. Hume?”
Hume heaved a mighty sigh. “The money isn’t as important to me as having a bride.”
“Were you telling the truth?” Sydney stared at him. “On your word of honor, would you be faithful to your bride?”
“Yes.”
Tim tugged on her. “Sydney . . .”
The parson gawked at her. “Lady Hathwell, are you reconsidering?”
“Goodness, no! But if Mr. Hume is serious, I know any number of eligible young ladies in England. Girls with impeccable pedigrees.”
“You’re playing matchmaker?” Tim shook his head.
“Why not? I’m going to marry the man of my dreams. Who better to—”
Tim scowled. “Now is not the time. He can have the money. I couldn’t care less. All I want is you.”
“That’s sweet, and I love you with all my heart. It’s just that I can’t. Not today.”
“Why not?” he shouted.
She gestured toward herself.
“Her pretty gown got filthy on the way over here,” Fuller said.
“I’ll help her dust it off,” Tim proclaimed.
“That ain’t it.” Velma shook her head. “Syd can’t get married in a dress Hume paid for.”
“I’ll pay the man for it!”
“I could overlook those things, Tim,” she started.
“Good.” Tim swept her into his arms.
“But it’s ruined. Even if you think it’s superstitious nonsense, it’s a family tradition. The groom can’t see the bride on their wedding day until she’s walking down the aisle to him.”
Tim groaned, “You’re serious about this, aren’t you?”
She nodded.
Hume chuckled. “You’re a better man than I.”
“That’s why I love him.”
Tim stood at the front of the church, praying God would have mercy and let everything go well. He’d run out of patience. All he wanted was to put a ring on Sydney’s finger, kiss her, and start in on their “happily ever after.”
Parson Bradle had already planned to preach about Christ’s first miracle at the wedding in Cana. He’d offered to marry Tim and Sydney, then conduct the worship service. Once that was arranged yesterday, the women all flocked to the boardinghouse to help sew Sydney a wedding dress.
The pianist started to play the “Wedding March” and everyone rose. Tim stood straighter and craned his neck to catch his first glimpse of Sydney.
He’d thought she looked perfect yesterday. He’d been mistaken. Fuller slipped her hand into Tim’s, and Sydney glanced downward. He followed her gaze. She was wearing the cowboy boots he’d bought her. He knew in an instant it was her way of showing him beneath all the foof and poof, his bride had grit. She wasn’t just accepting this new life; she was embracing it with zeal. He looked up at her saucy smile and grinned.
Tim led her to the altar. They exchanged vows; then he pulled her into his arms and gave her a kiss. Afterward, Parson Bradle stepped forward. “I’d like to present Mr. and Mrs. Timothy Creighton to you. They’ve asked for the privilege of leading the congregation in prayer.”
Tim cradled Sydney close to his side and laced his left hand with hers. They bowed their heads and began together, “Our Father, which art in heaven . . .”
His thumb brushed over her wedding band as they said, “Give
us
this day . . .” Her fingers squeezed his back.
Tim escorted her to the front pew and sat beside her. She positively glowed. Never before had a bride boasted such a gown. It framed her beautifully, and she wore it like a princess. He promised himself he’d go to his grave without ever mentioning that he recognized the fabric. It was Velma’s treasured Irish linen tablecloth.
M
ORE
L
AUGH
-O
UT
-L
OUD
H
ISTORICAL
F
ICTION
F
ROM
Cathy Marie Hake
Ruth Caldwell has always tried to live up to her mother’s expectations of what a lady should be, often with less than impressive results.When she’s forced to journey west to meet the father she’s never seen, Ruth hopes this might be the place she’ll finally fit in. But her arrival brings more mayhem than even Ruth is used to.
Letter Perfect
by Cathy Marie Hake
When Galen O’Sullivan is forced to the altar in a true shotgun wedding—to another woman—Laney McCain is devastated. Though Laney believes in his innocence, honor binds Galen to Ivy. As Galen and Laney struggle to surrender their hopes for the future, they come to learn a truly bittersweet lesson on learning to live in God’s will and trusting Him.
Bittersweet
by Cathy Marie Hake
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