Cimmerian Sunrise

Chapter 14 - ***REVISED***

"M'lady?"

Breanne snapped out of her trance, giving the priest her full attention.

"We're waitin' fer yer response, lass," the priest gently reminded her.

Whispers floated throughout the chapel, circling up to the rafters and echoing down again. Their cumulative rush, like tiny birds at twilight, made trepidation swell in Breanne's stomach. Her eyes lifted to Reese, who gave her a hard, warning look. If there weren't so many witnesses, she was sure that he would probably strangle her right there on the spot.

As it was, she had been spared the necessity of marrying him right away, because tradition stated that they had to wait for the reading of the marriage banns. That gave her three weeks; three weeks and she still couldn't find a way to escape her impending doom.

She'd voiced every possible, reasonable excuse as to why they shouldn't marry, but was trumped each time. The most logical and sound argument was this: Propriety.

"It simply isn't done, mother. T'would be improper!" Breanne had tried, earnestly wringing her hands together. "I mean, h-honestly...what-what would everyone think?"

Breanne's eyes widened dramatically when her mother, who sat in a chair before the hearth working on her needlepoint, simply waved off her appeal. Her mother – who always concerned herself with what everyone else thought, acted as if every word springing from Breanne's mouth was nonsense.

"Oh, Breanne," she'd uttered under her breath, eyes fixed on the floral design before her.

"But Mother!" Breanne cried, desperately, stomping towards her.  "I-I am attempting to adhere to the standards of propriety, which dictate that should a widow decide to remarry, she must wait a year!"

"Mother!" she cried again when Dorthea ignored her. "I don't want to do this! I don't wish to marry again!"

Dorthea's disdain-filled eyes finally shot up to Breanne. "Let us remember why you are in this situation, shall we? When you wed Torrington, already the ton was abuzz with disapproval at his decision to marry beneath him. Those tongues were already primed to rip you to pieces at the slightest misstep. You were married scant days, Breanne. You shared a bed for only two nights. Then you were seen in public in the arms of another man—his brother no less! And now you are with child. Do you truly believe the ton will be charitable in their assumptions? Do you honestly think they will accept without a word—without a query—that this is the child of your dead husband?"

Breanne had opened her mouth to give a response but was cut off by her mother's following words.

"Even if they did believe it, their spiteful tongues would wag nonetheless," Dorthea harshly snapped. "Yes, it is proper to wait a year. But getting married now does not break any laws; and your scandalous behavior has left us with no other option. It is a bit late to worry about propriety on this count, miss."

Breanne's shoulders briefly fell in defeat, but it certainly wasn't her last attempt to cling onto freedom.

And so it went...

Three weeks...at first she had been elated to have so much time to find a way to extricate herself from her current predicament  – but it soon became evident no matter of time would be sufficient. To Breanne's consternation, any excuse or sound case she'd come up with, after the most obvious, was refuted in a flash with an even better argument from her opponent.

And now she was in a chapel...the day of reckoning had come.

Breanne fully expected Reese to act like the devil himself, especially after the whole 'creeling the bridegroom' incident.