His Forbidden Bride (The Brides of Paradise Ranch (Spicy Version) Book 7) (5 page)

H
onoria wanted
to stay in the tender comfort of Solomon’s house, getting to know him better, but if she had any chance of actually pulling off her clandestine wedding, she needed to play along with her family’s wishes for just one more hour. It was painful to tear herself away from Solomon’s smile, to sneak out the back of his house, and to run along the busy street to the church. She encountered one bit of astounding luck when she met Bonnie walking in from the other direction.

“That’s good timing.” Bonnie grinned. She gave Honoria a reassuring squeeze of her hand before hurrying her along toward the church steps. “No one will suspect we didn’t drive in together.”

“Thank you.”

Honoria would have said more, but before she had more than her toe in the door, Melinda grabbed her arm and yanked her the rest of the way inside.

“Where have you been?” she demanded, shaking Honoria before letting her go. The jostling sent Honoria into a round of coughing. “We don’t have time for that now. The service is about to begin.”

“Oh, this is wretched,” Vivian groused from the other side of the door at the back of the church. Her face was red with anger, and her voluminous bouquet shook in her clenched hand.

“What is?” Honoria dashed to see if part of Vivian’s dress had ripped or the hem had frayed again.

The dress was in perfect order, but Vivian whined, “I don’t like any of these people.”

A few of Haskell’s townsfolk sitting in the back rows twisted to stare at her with offended looks.

“You invited them,” Honoria whispered, sending an apologetic look to the offended guests.

“I wanted my wedding to be the biggest, most exciting, most unforgettable social event of the year,” Vivian went on, her face shining with delight for a moment. Her eyes lost focus, as though she was imagining a wedding even grander than the one in front of her. Then she huffed out a breath and sagged. “There are too many undesirables in this town who I just can’t stand.”

As if on cue, Solomon stepped through the church door. He looked as fine and gallant as any man in town as he removed his hat and nodded respectfully to Vivian. His gaze danced past her to Honoria for the briefest moment, and his smile widened. Before anything could be given away, he walked on, finding a seat at the end of a row near the back.

“See what I mean,” Vivian grumbled.

Melinda snorted. Bebe scoffed along with them, then tilted her head to the side and said, “I like his suit.”

“His suit is neither here nor there.” Rex stepped in, putting an end to the conversation. “We’re all here. Let’s get this wedding over with.”

Honoria barely raised an eyebrow at Bonnie, who floated to Rex’s side and took his arm with a hollow smile. She would never understand that pairing.

“I knew you were wearing a ring!”

Vivian’s sudden gasp made Honoria’s blood run cold. Once again, she’d forgotten to take Solomon’s ring off before it was too late. Vivian stepped out of her place near their father’s side and grabbed at Honoria’s wrist.

“It looks like a diamond too.” Her avaricious eyes narrowed. “I bet this is mine. I bet you stole this out of my jewelry box.”

“It isn’t,” Honoria insisted, cursing herself for her carelessness yet again.

Vivian twisted Honoria’s wrist and tried to clamp her hand around the ring to tug it off. “You don’t have anything this nice, so it must be mine. Why, it’s better than my engagement ring.” She gasped and continued to attempt to yank the ring off Honoria’s hand as she struggled to get away. “I bet you stole my ring and substituted this poor excuse for a diamond in its place.”

It was a ridiculous idea, since they all knew full well that Vivian had worn her diamond as if it was part of the Crown Jewels since the second Rance had given it to her. But it was true that Honoria’s diamond was bigger and of a higher quality.

“Give it,” Vivian growled.

“Yeah, give it,” Bebe egged her on from the side.

More than a few of the people sitting at the back of the church turned to see what the fuss was. The organist playing away at the front of the church even looked up to see what was going on.

“It’s my ring,” Bonnie said at last, stepping between Vivian and Honoria and separating them. She turned a stern frown on Vivian. “I said she could wear it today.”

“Well, she’s wearing it on the wrong finger,” Melinda sniffed. “It’s not like she’s engaged or ever will be.”

Honoria hid her reddening face with a sudden cough. It took every effort of will not to look to see whether Solomon was watching.

“This is ridiculous,” Rex grumbled, grabbing Vivian’s elbow and turning her back toward the front of the church. “Your groom is waiting. Go get married, already.”

Sure enough, Rance was watching them from the front of the church with an expression that held the same sort of curiosity as if he was about to watch a bear-baiting. When Vivian was dragged around to face him, he broke into a dopey grin and waved at her. Vivian made a sound of disgust in her throat.

Rex nodded to the organist, who ended her song and began the wedding march.

“Oh, goody, it’s my turn.” Bebe pushed her way to the front of the Bonneville scrum and started down the aisle at a stately pace, dismissive smile on her upturned face. Honoria let out a breath and took the bouquet Bonnie offered her before moving into place.

Before she could start her march, Rex grabbed her arm and said, “I don’t want to hear another sound out of you, missy, not even a cough.”

Honoria swallowed. She sought Solomon out amongst the congregation. His expression was concerned, but he nodded subtly and smiled. She smiled back, and told her father, “Not a peep.”

Rex let her go, and she began her march up the aisle. Rance stood waiting for Vivian with one of the Bonneville ranch hands as his best man. Truth be told, Rance looked as much like a ranch hand as anyone else, in spite of being their third cousin. He may have carried the Bonneville name, but he was about as ignorant and uncouth as they came. He certainly didn’t hold a candle to Solomon.

That thought pushed Honoria forward and made her tense smile blossom into something genuine. She didn’t have plans to march down the aisle for her own wedding. That ceremony was likely to be rushed. This was it. This was her wedding march. She took a deep breath, imagining that it was everything that it should have been.

By the time she made it to the front of the church, Melinda was already halfway down the aisle, looking as smug as Bebe had as she walked. The three of them lined up to one side. Bebe elbowed Honoria out of the way so that she could stand closer to the action, even though, as youngest, she’d walked down the aisle first. Honoria was more than happy to take a large step back, separating herself from the others. At last, Vivian started majestically down the aisle on their father’s arm, looking every bit as cloying and overbearing as could be. The moment was all about her, so much so that when she reached the front of the aisle and bid a tearful—and fake—goodbye to their father, she didn’t even look at Rance and certainly didn’t take his hand when he offered it.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today in the sight of God and these, our family and friends, to join this man and this woman in holy matrimony,” Rev. Pickering began. He seemed a little uncomfortable, his back stiff and his smile forced, until he glanced around the congregation. It was as if he drew strength from them rather than the farce of a couple before him.

As he turned back to Vivian and Rance, his gaze met Honoria’s and he smiled. A genuine smile. He knew what would come after this wedding. Solomon had informed him of the entire situation, and as far as Honoria knew, he approved heartily. His smile confirmed that. He took a breath, his shoulders relaxing, and went on.

“Marriage is a holy institution, ordained by God for the betterment of all mankind.”

Honoria listened intently as Rev. Pickering went on, sharing his thoughts on the joys and benefits of marriage. She loved everything he had to say. At the same time, her heart ached. Every sacred duty of married couples—to love, honor, protect, and bring joy to one another—was something she wished she could do for far, far longer than the time she would have. She longed to give Solomon children, to give him a happy, loving family, but it wasn’t to be. The best she could hope for was to leave him with happy memories.

Vivian’s exasperated sigh brought her back to reality. Honoria could practically hear her sister tapping her foot impatiently under her dress. She almost groaned aloud when Rev. Pickering finished his sweet words and turned to the two of them for the vows.

“Rance Efraim Bonneville, do you take this woman, Vivian Eugenia Bonneville, to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

Rance’s grin turned lopsided. “I do.”

“And do you, Vivian Eugenia Bonneville, take this man, Rance Efraim Bonneville to—”

“I do,” Vivian cut him off.

Rev. Pickering’s jaw hung open for a minute, as if he would scold her or go on with the full words of the ceremony. Instead, he shrugged—barely noticeable—and said, “Then by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

Vivian made a sound as though that was the last thing she wanted to do, but Rance leapt at the permission. He swept his arms around Vivian and planted a noisy kiss on her lips. Vivian squealed and backed away, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

“You’d better not do that again,” she warned him in a hiss.

“Sweetheart, I plan to kiss you up all day every day for the rest of our lives,” Rance replied.

Vivian groaned, but the sound was mostly swallowed by the strains of the organ bursting into a final processional hymn. Vivian grabbed Rance’s arm and swung him around to face the congregation. They all applauded and smiled, but Vivian faced them as though they were laughing at some joke. She yanked Rance forward and marched back down the aisle.

Melinda followed her, still wearing a regal air that said the show was really all about her. Bebe trailed her with the same sort of look.

Honoria thought about staying where she was, but her father caught her with a stern frown as she took a half-step back. She had no choice but to start forward, heading back down the aisle to the church’s back door and stepping out into the sunlight.

“Don’t you touch me!” Vivian yelled at Rance as they proceeded around the side of the church to where the white canvas tent that the town usually used for summer potlucks was set up. Vivian had wanted a much grander reception—something at the hotel, ideally—but she also wanted everyone in town to attend and fete her. So the church yard it was. Melinda and Bebe caught up to her and whisked her away from Rance and on to where the cake and the presents were set up.

Honoria swerved off in the other direction and dashed around the far side of the church. Rev. Pickering had a private entrance to his office there. The door was never locked, and she was able to slip back inside before anyone could notice she was gone. She tip-toed across the office and peeked from that door into the main part of the church, watching as the congregation filed out into the summer sun. Solomon stood but lingered to the side of the church, talking with Howard Haskell. To Honoria’s surprise, Bonnie slipped back into the building once almost everyone else was gone.

As soon as she felt it was safe, Honoria opened the office door and made herself known. Bonnie—who was facing in her direction—saw her first.

“You’d better hurry,” she said, marching down the aisle. “Rex is distracted and so are the girls, but who knows for how long.”

A rush of giddy excitement swirled up from Honoria’s gut, getting out in a giggle. Solomon reflected how she felt with a broad smile as he headed down the side aisle and took her hand.

“You know,” Howard commented as he walked with them to the center of the chancel at the front of the aisle. “It dawns on me that the two of you make a very attractive couple.”

“Thank you, Mr. Haskell.” Honoria nodded.

“Psht!” He waved her comment away. “No one calls me ‘Mr. Haskell.’ It’s Howard, now and always.”

Whether it was Howard or Henry or Hammurabi, Honoria hardly noticed. She began to tremble slightly as Solomon hooked his arm through hers and tucked her close to his side.

“Are you doing all right?” he asked, his rich voice tender for her.

Honoria nodded in response, hugging his arm. This was it. Freedom was at her fingertips. She clutched the bouquet that she still held closer to her chest and her racing heart.

Rev. Pickering returned from the side of the room with a small table, a fountain pen and a piece of parchment on top of it. “I’ve started having couples sign their marriage license before the ceremony,” he informed them. “It comes in handy when they want to rush out and get settled in their new life.” He handed the pen to Solomon and turned the parchment to face him and Honoria.

Another, deeper thrill rippled through Honoria’s gut. This was it. This was real. She watched, holding her breath, as Solomon signed his name in a fine, neat hand. Jeremiah. His middle name was Jeremiah. She liked it. When he finished, he straightened and handed the pen to her.

“If you’ve changed your mind, I will understand.” He spoke as though only the two of them were there, even though Rev. Pickering, Bonnie, and Howard looked on.

Honoria smiled with her whole heart and took the pen, their hands brushing. “This is what I want.” Her voice cracked. She was so much more emotional than she expected she would be. “I…I think this is what I’ve wanted for a long time. I’m only sorry that I didn’t say something sooner.” Her final words dropped to a whispered hush.

With a look that was just full enough with regret to make Honoria’s heart break, he lifted her left hand to his lips and kissed it. “I should have been brave enough to say something sooner myself.”

“But we have each other now,” Honoria rushed on, loathe to upset him any more than she knew she would in the months to come, as her health failed.

He nodded, holding her hand in both of his. “We do.”

Honoria stayed right there, her hand and heart warming with the promise Solomon offered her. At last, she turned away and signed her name to the license. When she straightened, Bonnie was weeping outright, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief embroidered with the initials “HH.” Howard was more than a little glassy-eyed himself as he watched the Honoria and Solomon.