The Fairy Tale Bride

Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

It was done. She was married. Standing in the only home she had ever known, her beloved Anderlin, Miranda realized she could no longer call it “home” now that she had wed. She stood quietly for a moment in the corner of the dining hall, amazed at the transformation that Simon’s army of newly-hired servants had wrought for their wedding feast. The silver and gold gleamed. Doubt assailed her at the thought that this formidable army of a staff was now hers to command. She hoped she had not made a mistake, marrying a man who did not love or trust her. Truly, what did she know of him? For all she could be certain, beneath the saintly demeanor might lie the heart of a robber bridegroom waiting to chop her up and eat her in a bride stew.

She frowned and walked nearer the mantelpiece. Somehow, candlesticks had been found that matched the ones from the study. The very candlesticks that had been stolen from her in London. She sighed. She had almost put that incident from her mind — Simon was no robber bridegroom, and he would not let her family starve. Valentine had given up his melancholic hibernation to throw himself into new plans to revitalize Anderlin.

“How does it feel to be married?” Hero’s smile was shy as she joined her sister in the corner and took her turn surveying the changed room. “To command such an army of servants?”

“At the moment, I confess I feel somewhat numb.” Miranda’s heart ached at the thought of leaving her sisters, but Hero, at eighteen, and Juliet, at sixteen, were at least old enough to understand what marriage meant. Indeed, they were no doubt dreaming of being married themselves shortly.

What Rosaline, Helena, and little Kate though, she had no notion. They had been kept away from her by Hero and Juliet so that she could finish up the endless fittings and little details that brought her wardrobe and her wedding together in under a week. She had missed them terribly, even though they were just in another part of the house. How much harder would it be when she was gone from Anderlin?

Hero did not smile. She was such a serious child that her anxiety was etched upon her thin face. “How should I address you now that you are a duchess? It seems so strange to think of you that way.” She blushed as she realized that her words could be taken as an insult. “I mean ... “

“I know exactly what you mean.” Miranda glanced across the room toward the bent head of her husband of less than an hour. “It is odd. A few vows, a simple ceremony, and we are bonded for life. What has always been the ending for our fairytales is, in truth, the beginning of a very different life.”

Hero nodded, her eyes flitting around the room, as she whispered, “He is like a fairy godfather, is he not?” When Miranda did not immediately agree, Hero faltered and added softly, “Instead of a godmother, I mean .... “

“In some ways I think he’s more in need of a fairy godmother.” She thought of Simon’s disclosure but said nothing of it to her sister. A wedding day should be joyous.

Hero shook her head soberly. “Oh, he’s in no need of that any longer, Miranda. Not now that he has you.” A sudden sadness obscured her smile.

Miranda reached over to squeeze her sister’s hand.

“But I shall always be the sister you knew. My becoming a duchess changes nothing between us.”

Juliet had come up behind them and slipped an arm around Hero’s waist for a brief moment, saying, “Except for removing you from our household, of course.”

Miranda nodded, once again looking toward Simon. Her heart hammered inside her chest. “I have every confidence in your abilities to manage the household, Hero.” She tried to coax a smile out of her by adding, “And I know Juliet will help you as she has always helped me.”