“Another Christmas Alone,” She Thought — Until a Duke’s Carriage Broke Down at Her Gate
Chapter 29
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The Dowager Duchess attended with genuine pleasure. Peters and Daniel stood proudly among the guests. Mrs. Hargreaves wept throughout the ceremony. Pickles, who had been entrusted to the gardener's care, behaved admirably until the church bells began to ring; then he barked with such enthusiasm that several guests began laughing.Rosamond turned toward Julian. "Your family is going to think us terribly uncivilized."Julian smiled. "My family has already met Pickles."She laughed. The ceremony was simple, beautiful, and entirely theirs.When Julian placed the ring upon Rosamond's finger, she looked into his eyes and understood that the happiness she felt was not the end of her independence: it was the beginning of a partnership. They would disagree; they would make mistakes; they would have responsibilities and difficult days; but they would face them together, and that was more than enough.Their first Christmas as husband and wife arrived beneath a gentle snowfall.Willowmere Cottage glowed with candlelight. Evergreen branches decorated the mantelpiece; the crooked wooden angel hung in its familiar place; and the dining table had been extended to accommodate a gathering that would have astonished Aunt Beatrice: Lady Margaret sat beside the fire, telling Daniel an amusing story about Julian's childhood; Peters was discussing the weather with the gardener; Mrs. Finch carried a magnificent pudding into the room; and Pickles supervised the proceedings with an authority nobody dared challenge.Rosamond stood in the doorway, looking at the scene. For a moment, she could scarcely believe it: the house was filled with voices, laughter, warmth, and life.Julian approached quietly. "What are you thinking?"Rosamond smiled. "That Aunt Beatrice would be delighted."He looked around the room. "I believe she would.""She always said Christmas was better when there were too many people at the table."Julian laughed. "Then we have certainly honored her wishes."Rosamond turned toward him. "Do you know what I remember most clearly about last Christmas?""My extraordinary skill with a frying pan?"She laughed. "No.""The unfortunate condition of your gate?""Not that, either.""Then I am at a loss."Rosamond looked toward the dining table: "The second cup."Julian followed her gaze. Two porcelain cups stood beside one another at the place where they would sit."One for you," she said softly. "And one for me."He looked back at her. "Rosamond...""For three years, I set out a second cup because I could not quite accept that my aunt was gone." Her eyes shone. "I thought it meant I was unable to move forward."Julian took her hand. "And now?"She smiled. "Now I think it meant that some part of me was still willing to make room for someone."Julian lifted her hand to his lips. "I am very grateful that you did."Rosamond laughed softly. "So am I."He glanced toward the window; snow was falling beyond the garden. "Do you remember what you said when you first saw me?"Rosamond pretended to consider. "I believe I asked whether your carriage was dead."