Merry Misrule - St. Clair, Ellie Page 0,44

the two of us,” she said, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she smiled in excitement. “And you, if you’ll come with us.”

“Come with?” Joanna bit her lip. “I don’t know, Caro, what do you want me there for?”

“To help us,” she said a bit desperately. “To be there for me. To convince me that I’m doing the right thing.”

Then she sat on the bed, placing her head in her hands before looking up at Joanna in supplication, her smile finally falling slightly as her true worry emerged.

“Oh, Caro,” Joanna said, taking a seat next to her. “I cannot tell you what is right with any certainty. Only you know that. What is it that you truly want?”

Caroline sighed. “Ideally, I want to marry Thatcher and live with him in a situation where I can still have a relationship with my family. But you heard Elijah. And he’s the most reasonable of them all. I don’t see any way forward but to choose — my family, or Thatcher.”

“Which brings you the greatest pain to think of losing?” Joanna asked gently.

“Leaving him,” Caroline said, her eyes filling with tears. “As much as I don’t want to forever say goodbye to my family, they are the ones ultimately forcing me to make this choice.”

“Then you know what you have to do,” Joanna said. “Where are you going to go?”

“To the village, at least for now,” Caroline said. “I’m hoping the vicar will marry us. Once we are married, my wish is that my family will accept us — accept him — but if they don’t, we will find a life for ourselves elsewhere.”

“What about the banns?” Joanna asked, and Caroline bit her lip.

“I was hoping we could forgo them.”

“I don’t think that’s possible.”

“Well, we can always ask,” Caroline said with forced brightness. “Now — are you coming?”

And so, a few days later, in the freezing cold of that time of day that was neither night nor morning, Joanna set out with Caroline and her love toward the village of Chearsley. The snow had melted, but had left an icy sheen on the road, one that they carefully traversed on the sleigh they had borrowed, with Caroline promising that they would return it after they were wed, although Joanna had her own suspicions regarding just what might occur.

She had spent the few days between doing her best to avoid Elijah by hiding in her rooms working tirelessly on the costumes in order to make up for the time she would be spending away. She was almost done — just a few finishing touches to complete, primarily on Elijah’s costume, which hadn’t seemed quite right as Joanna had worked on it.

When she had seen him, it had been friendly, amiable, but she withheld the desperation for more — for she knew it could never be.

Fortunately, he hadn’t visited her alone, for she wasn’t sure if she could keep this secret from him, nor how she would respond when he most assuredly would tell her it was a terrible idea.

But this was Caroline’s decision, Caroline’s adventure — not hers.

When they finally made it to the village church, they were freezing cold, but Caroline and Thatcher were still infused with a hope that warmed Joanna’s heart.

“What’s this?” the vicar, Father Franklin, asked when they knocked on the door, and he let them in, still in his nightclothes. “Is all well at Briercrest?”

“It is,” Caroline said as he ushered them inside. “It’s just… we were hoping that you would marry us.”

He looked between the three of them. “Marry—”

“Me and Lady Caroline,” Thatcher said, his arm around Caroline in a way that was so endearing it nearly brought a tear to Joanna’s eye.

“I know the banns haven’t been read,” Caroline said, pleading in her voice, “but we would really appreciate it if you would—”

But the vicar was already shaking his head. “I’m sorry, dear, but I can’t. You know that. Between the banns having not been read and your family being the most influential in these parts, I could never marry the two of you without their permission. Are you… ah… in the family way?”

Caroline sighed. “It’s just that, Father, I know my family wouldn’t approve of our marriage, and we really don’t want to wait any longer.”

“Well,” he took a deep breath, “there are a couple of options.”

“Which would be?”

“You could try going to Aylesbury, to see what Father McKenzie thinks of the whole thing. He doesn’t have to worry quite so much about what your