The Heroic Baron (21 page)

Alain let his mind empty of all logic and thought except the cool grip of Cecile’s hands on his. If he didn’t
believe her now on her own merits, they would never
have trust between them. He could not ask Tristan to
check her story. He had to decide this on his own and
he had to decide it right now. To sleep on it would only
cast doubt on whether or not it was she he completely
believed or if he’d had time to collaborate her story
with outside information. Everything between them
had come down to this moment, this decision.

Cecile understood it too. Alain could hear only the
faintest of breaths as she sat motionless waiting for his
pronouncement. In the silence, he remembered a small
bit of wisdom from his father when he was growing up:
the things regretted in life are the things not done. Alain
knew he regretted plenty of things he’d elected not to
do, like riding out to meet the carriage that fateful day.
He did not regret the chance he’d taken to build the resort, or to rescue the Panchettes from France. He would
not live the rest of his life regretting his choice to let
Cecile go because he was too frightened to grasp happiness with both hands.

He spoke the words that could bridge their rift, knowing even as he spoke them, they might not be
enough. “I believe you. You’ve been nothing but goodness since the day we met. I should not have doubted”

Cecile smiled. “Thank you, Alain.”

Alain shook his head in denial. “I should not have
brought it up. I should have told Daniel he misunderstood the information and dismissed it out of hand”

“Absolutely not. We must sort through these things
together.” A teasing sparkle lit her eyes and the joy
she’d emanated earlier returned. “Now, what shall we
do, Alain?”

“I believe the next order of business is the marriage
proposal I made to you in London. Will you accept in
spite of me making a muck of things? Please, Cecile,
marry me. No other person in this world has risked as
much for me as you have. You’ve risked your life and
your heart. I can’t pretend to be worthy of that, but I
will spend my whole life working to earn it.”

Joy suffused her face in a rapturous glow. “I find I
can’t turn the offer down” She leaned forward and
kissed him with all the love in her heart.

Cecile’s wedding day dawned with a blue sky and
fluffy white clouds. The Refuge was bursting with
friends who’d arrived two days earlier for the festivities. Alain’s sister, Isabella, had come with the new
baby and her handsome husband, Tristan. Alain’s two
childhood friends, Giles and Chatham had come as
well, eagerly agreeing to share a room with Daniel to
make space for everyone at The Refuge.

Cecile and Etienne had been warmly embraced by
Alain’s friends and by the town. This morning Cecile
had been awakened with breakfast in bed delivered by
Isabella, who insisted she not worry about going downstairs until it was time to depart for St. Leonard’s. Isabella had stayed with her, chatting and laughing while
she bathed and the maid Alain had hired for her did up
her hair and threaded it with pearls.

Cecile turned her head in the mirror, straining to see
the elegant coiffure from all angles. “It’s so lovely!” she exclaimed. “But it seems a waste since I’ll have a
veil over it.”

Isabella laughed. “Alain will be able to see it and
that’s all that matters. Come, it’s time for the gown.
People will want to stop by your room and say goodbye before they head for the church. We can’t have
them find you in dishabille.”

Cecile stood patiently as the gown of silk glace was
lifted over her head and gliding over the curves of her
body. Isabella herself did up the pearl buttons at the
back, exclaiming over the gown. It was of purest white,
highwaisted and banded beneath her breasts with a pink
satin ribbon. Because it was June, Cecile had foregone
the long tight sleeves, opting instead for short puffed
sleeves trimmed in graceful falls of delicate Honiton
lace that matched the vandyked hem on the gown. The
veil too was made of yards of Honiton lace.

“You look lovely. I’ll only be the first one to tell you
that today” Isabella said as they surveyed the gown in
the mirror together. There was a knock on the door, and
the procession of well wishers began, each of them exclaiming over Cecile’s gown.

Finally the house grew quiet, the guests having departed for the church. Etienne was the last one to come
to the room. It was Isabella’s cue to depart for the
church with her husband and baby. Etienne would give
Cecile away.

“Are you ready, CeeCee?” Etienne asked. “I am to
tell you that Alain has left for church with Tristan, so
it’s safe to come downstairs without him seeing you”

They laughed at the superstition, both a little nervous
over what the day would hold for them.

“We’ve come a long way,” Cecile said.

Etienne nodded. “You’re a famous violin player and
a baroness now. Who would have thought?”

“You’re still my brother. Nothing has changed that.
The Refuge will be your home too”

“I know. I like Alain. He has been a good mentor for
me. We have talked about my future. He has arranged
for me to go to London and study the hotel industry at
one of the best hotels in town so that I have my options.
Ideally he wants me to come back and take over the resort, but I am not sure yet”

Cecile nodded. “You will be good at it.”

“And you will be good for him. I can see it in the way
he looks at you.” Etienne clasped his sister’s hand.
“Time to go”

The journey from The Refuge to St. Leonard’s was a
happy one. Cecile rode in an open landau decorated
with flowers and satin ribbons. The streets were lined
with the citizens of Hythe who had turned out to greet
the baron’s new wife. They threw flowers while she
laughed and caught at them.

But nothing compared to the joy she felt when the
doors to St. Leonard’s opened, revealing Alain standing
in full morning dress at the end of a flower bedecked
aisle. The church was turned out in its best, with flowers
along the side aisles as well, and the pews packed with
Alain’s friends dressed in their summer finest for the
occasion.

Music came from a hidden place, a string quartet she
guessed. How thoughtful of Alain to provide music
from the instrument she so dearly loved. Etienne
walked her down the long aisle to where her new hus band waited. Tristan stood next to him, and Mrs. Brown
waited as her own witness. Cecile recognized some of
the faces as she passed. Isabella gave her a teary smile
while she juggled the baby. Then she was next to Alain
and all else faded.

They had waited three years for this. Alain covered
her hand with his own, warm and strong, lending his
support should she need it.

The vicar began. Cecile supposed the service was
nice and words meaningful but nothing could dislodge
her attention from the emerald-eyed, golden-haired
jewel of a man who stood beside her pledging his fidelity and love and the future they would make together. At last the ceremony was complete. The vicar
intoned the most romantic words of the ritual. “Baron
Wickham, you may kiss the bride.”

Alain bent to her and whispered, “Cecile, you’re my
hero. You have saved me in ways you cannot guess”

Cecile smiled. “No, you’re mine. You’re my heroic
baron.”

With that, they sealed their union with a kiss and
turned to face their friends and their future together.