No again

"She'll be down any moment now, Your Grace." Mr. Brown said and Edward nodded, straightening his stance and doing his best to ignore the curious gaze of the priest. The day was far spent and eve was far approaching. He had agreed to his butler's demand to crank open a drape and allow some natural light into the room. As a result of this, the room seemed airier and more open, the dark paneled walls gleaming and the brass handles of the large door shone as a result of daily polishing.

 The room had been his father's, and his father's father before that, extending down to a long generation of men whose tales were still being passed down. All the men of Snowshill had spent considerable time in the study, only modifying it to suit individual tastes. When Edward came back from the war a broken and scarred man, he had taken over the affairs of the family in which he was the head and his only contribution to the study had been to lower the drapes.

The ticking of the clock on the mantelpiece was the only sound that could be heard in the room, and although it seemed loud, it wasn't loud enough to disrupt his thoughts which had a tendency to grow deep.

He may have reluctantly acquiesced to opening a drape, but no more than one. All the drapes close to him were still lowered and it gave him a kind of sick relief to know that his bride-to-be wouldn't run out of the study, screaming at the top of her lungs. Or worse, crumble into a faint. He may have seen the horrors of life and had been become quite adept at handling them, but he still had no idea what to do when presented with a fainting lady.

Would he have to run about in search of smelling salts? Or would he have to shake her vigorously the way he remembered his aunt doing when one of his cousins had fainted at the sight of blood?

Sighing inaudibly, he looked at the lowered drape closest to him and from the time on the wall, he knew what he would see if the drapes were opened.

The English weather was notorious for its horrible nature, but it was incredibly fairer here at the countryside than it was in London. He had spent enough years here and still had memories of how it had felt to traipse through the countryside in the evening, lazily gazing at the sky with its wide array of colors and textures, the sky taking on a warm, golden hue. The clouds were often scattered around the sky and they themselves would begin to turn shades of pink and purple as the light fades. On the days he stayed out till nightfall, the sky would darken, and stars would twinkle overhead.

His thoughts trailed off with a heavy realization that he hadn't been under the sun for what seemed like ages. He never thought he would miss it but he was mistaken.

"She's coming down the stairs, Your Grace" Mr. Brown announces from his position at the threshold, the doors wide open to usher in who would be the Lady of the Manor. Truly, he heard commotion as maids walked past, whispering excitedly amongst themselves. He understood their excitement. It had been long since anything remotely exciting had happened here in Snowshill Manor.

Everybody in the room straightened their already stiff postures and even the priest smoothed an invisible wrinkle from his robe.

The thought of the priest's robe reminded Edward of his own dressing and he held back a chuckle at how excited Mr. Brown, who doubled as his valet, had been at the prospect of getting the Duke dressed up. Left to Edward, he would have been comfortable and content with a waistcoat and trouser. After all, his bride wouldn't even get a good view of him.

Mr. Brown had quietly refuted and had set out a complete gentleman's outfit, a type fit for a visit to the king and although Edward valued his comfort above all else, he had learned to choose his battles wisely.

It was because of that reason he found himself outfitted in a tailored coat made out of finest wool and in a deep green colour which also featured a tail at the back. The coat was cut high at the waist to emphasize the broad shoulders and narrow waistline that Mr. Brown swore was the height of fashion.waistcoat, trousers, shoes. He paired that with a waistcoat made of silk and which featured a deep V-neck and was buttoned all the way to the neck. The trouser was made of excellent wool material and was held up by suspenders. Mr. Brown had then proceeded to attempt to choke him with a intricately tied cravat that was cutting off his air supply. Shoes were the last on the list and Edward had narrowly escaped being outfitted with a top hat and a cane.

In the end, he rather felt like a peacock strutted out to show off his feathers for the entertainment of others. He barely restrained himself from dragging at the cursed cravat and was waiting with bated breath to be done with the entire ceremony.

The sound of approaching footsteps grew closer and in no time, Emily strutted into the room, a vision in deep green silk and ruffles, the dress succeeding in making her look even more delectable than he thought a woman should look. Her hair was arranged in an intricate design and some curls were left to artfully frame her face.

Oh well, there's the explanation for the one hour the priest has had to wait. Edward understood that he shouldn't have expected her to get ready in such a record time, but it was a good thing that the priest had time to spare.

All the men in the room bowed and Edward bent at his waist for a few seconds, lifting himself to appraise the way her eyes flit about the room nervously, looking as wide-eyed as a doe.

Oh, it was a terrible thing that he would never be able to make her his wife in every sense.