Lady Trent by GinaRJ

engagement to be wed. It came
as a surprise to me. You see, it was assumed Lord Trent would be
wed to Roselle of Lyndinburg, the earl of Lyndinburg’s daughter.
But when you descended the steps that morning and I beheld
you…well, Lord Trent, I knew, would behold you just the same, and
with the addition of being a man. Then I spoke with Father
Nelson—briefly, mind you.” She almost whispered, “He explained it
all to me: The letter. Jacob’s reaction to it then and now. I am so
very happy for him and for you. It must have been fate that brought
you together.”
    She had thought so herself, but did not
mention it.
    She and Camille began meeting so ever often
in the week. Rachel would ride into Harp and spend nearly the
entire day there. Not that they only focused upon noble etiquette.
They also spent a great deal of time simply talking and sharing a
laugh about this or that. But she did learn things that she hadn’t
read about or heard or thought of, such as the proper way to accept
a glass of wine, how to bow the head so ever slightly when greeting
a Lesser Nobles, toward the left only. It was only proper to bow
the head toward the right when greeting a Higher Noble.
    “How is one to know whether a man is a Lesser
or a Higher?”
    “Have you noticed Jacob’s clothing? He dones
a red emblem…engraved into many of his vestments, usually on the
lapel…which is the case always during social events. They purposely
do this.”
    Just how anyone kept up with all of this was
beyond her. She imagined it would take some time. But she had all
the time in the world. She only wondered…how long did he have?
Maybe longer than he imagined. She certainly hoped so.
     
    ******
     
    Three weeks altogether passed and the day of
the wedding came
    about. Rachel began preparing herself early
and accordingly. The gown was laid out; so beautiful, like
something from a book or a dream—a child’s dream.
    Her bath had been accomplished, her hair was
washed and dried. Zaria would brush and fix it in a short while.
Later, so soon as evening was about to set in, she would shed her
robe and array herself in the elegant gown made especially for her.
The seamstresses and clothier had done an excellent job designing
it.
    She touched the silk train, all sorts of
emotions washing over her. Could it be? Was she truly about to
become the wife of Jacob Trent, Lord of The Great City, the finest
city in all New Ebony?
    Butterflies swarmed in her stomach, amazement
consumed her heart. But erratic stabs of fright kept her from being
at complete ease. Could she actually go through with this?
Honestly, there were sporadic temptations to run and run hard.
    She paced the floor, eventually stopping
before the window from which she stared out at the courtyard below.
This would be an outdoor wedding, just as she’d dreamt about as a
child…before the idea of choosing the Sacred Vows over marital
one’s had ever entered her mind. The large enclosure was decorated
with all sorts of flowers and greenery and statues of lions and
birds, gentlemen and ladies. A red carpet was in the process of
being rolled out down the center of the area where they would be
wed. It would lead from the entrance of the chapel to a platform
where the vows were to be exchanged. Candles floated atop the water
encircling the fountain. They would be lit, along with dozens of
torches encircling the immediate area. And dozens of bridesmaids
and grooms would stand in perfect harmony, dressed accordingly. It
would be spectacular.
    She wondered for possibly the hundredth time
if she was making a mistake, furthermore, if she would be punished.
She was more-or-less trading her heavenly commitment for a worldly
one. Was she at all in the right to abandon her calling?
    She recalled the hefty donation, and that she
was not obligated to do anything, nor had she ever been. She was
marrying Jacob because she loved him. No, this trading of worldly
vows in exchange for her heavenly ones had nothing to