My wedding night is, without competition, my clearest memory. I remember my best friend, Jean, and her sister, Clarisse in their bridesmaid dresses. I remember my own attire, a pink and white dress with a long train and a matching veil held on my head with my grandmother’s tiara. And I remember exactly how my husband looked as we stood at the altar and promised our lives to each other. Looking back, it is the feeling that I remember most; the love I felt in that moment, the excitement I felt knowing that every morning, day, and night for the rest of my life would be spent with Alden Harper.
The first memory I have of Alden is of him joining Jean, Clarisse, and I for tea with my governess, Mrs. Beaumont. His father scolded him, telling him that he should spend his time with Carlisle, Spencer, and Travers instead. Lady Harper wouldn’t hear of it, though, — “He can do as he pleases,” she told him. And stubborn as Lord Harper could be, he knew to listen to his wife. So Alden stayed, and we had the best tea party my six-year-old self could have imagined. That was the day I fell in love with him.
A short time later, we were thick as thieves. Alden spent time with my brothers as well, becoming close with Carlisle and Travers, but he never could win over Spencer. This, of course, led to many an argument between us children. Carlisle, Travers, and I would rejoice when we heard the
Harpers were paying a visit, and Spencer would sulk. I approached him on the matter a number of times, but the conversation always ended the same, with Spencer reminding me “We may be twins, Ri, but our minds are not. I just don’t trust him.” I never knew how to respond to that, so I never did.
I was seventeen when I overheard Mrs. Beaumont tell the cook that we were to be married. That memory is blurry, clouded with my adolescent insecurity. I stood frozen in the doorway as they spoke in hushed whispers. When I was finally able to move, they still hadn’t noticed me, so I ran up to the music room, where mother was practicing piano. I rushed to her, but, caught up in the music, she, like Mrs. Beaumont, didn’t see me come in. I sat next to her, and she asked me in a monotone — “What’s troubling you, Adrienne?”
I cringed at the use of my full name and suddenly felt unsure about asking her. “Well,” I said slowly, “I went down to the kitchen just now, and I overheard Mrs. Beaumont talking to Cook, and I was wondering what they could have to talk about because-”
“Oh, just spit it out, Adrienne,” she demanded.
“HasfatherpromisedmyhandtotheHarperfamily?”
“I hardly know what you mean.”
“Am I to marry Alden?” I asked her, more quietly.
“Well,” she said, shifting in the seat, “He would be a most advantageous match.”
She never really answered my question, despite my persistence in questioning her. I wasn’t sure which answer I wanted. On one hand, I knew that I would be happy with Alden. But it was so soon. I had so much life left.
*~*~*~*~*
Two weeks after that fateful conversation, mother held a ball. The Harpers were, of course, invited. I tried to avoid them as well as I could, newly unsure of my standing with them. I still hadn’t made my decision, and I didn’t know what might come out of my mouth if I were to converse with them. After the dancing was over and the guests left, only the Harpers remained. I excused myself quickly, but Alden offered to walk me back to my room. I felt my heart speed up, but placed my hand on his outstretched arm and smiled like everything was normal. He smiled back but was quiet until we reached the hall, out of earshot of our families. When we finally made it out of the ballroom, his smile faltered a little and his eyebrows knit together.
“Is everything all right, Adri?” he asked.
“It’s fine. I mean, I’m fine. I mean, why do you ask,” I stuttered out.
His smile returned, but it was knowing instead of confused. “Did you figure out why we’re here tonight?”
I looked down and mumbled “Maybe.” My heart sped up even more and I felt like it would burst right out of my chest. I was right. He was going to ask tonight.
“Why are you upset?”
“It’s just, it’s so fast and it’s so soon, and I’m only seventeen and this is the rest of my life we’re talking about.”
We reached my door and stopped walking.
After a long pause with me avoiding looking at him, he said quietly, “Can I ask before you say no?”
I looked back at him with wide eyes, and he smiled at me reassuringly, sinking down to one knee. I gasped a little
when he took my hand and his eyes became kind of hopeful. “Adrienne,” he started, and when he said my name, I didn’t mind it so much. I don’t know if it was his accent or what it was, but the way he said my name sent shivers up my spine. The good kind. “We’ve known each other most of our lives. And since that very first tea party, I knew I wanted to marry you. I don’t need us to be married tomorrow, but I need to know that you’re mine.” He paused for a second to pull the box out of his jacket, and I gasp as he opens it. I’ve seen that ring before, on his grandmother’s hand. “Will you marry me?”
I stood frozen for a moment, remembering that tea party and all the times we’d spent together since then. What more could I ask for than a life full of those moments?
He looked at me nervously, and I pulled him up off his knees and hugged him closely.
“I can’t tell if this is an excited yes or an apologetic no,” he told me.
I laughed a little and whispered in his ear “Yes.”
He pulled me up off my feet like he used to when we were children, and spun me around. I squealed like that little girl I used to be and gasp out “put me down!” through my laughter.
He does and takes my hand, slipping his grandmother’s ring on it. He looked back up at me with bright eyes and whispered “Do you want to come tell them with me?’
I put my hand in his, and we walked down the stairs. From that moment on, I knew we would spend our lives together.
Books by Brooke-Lynn 