Yep! A new story. But this one comes with a reason to follow me on tumblr (link on my profile). You see, I've teamed up with a wonderful artist over there and this story is BEING ILLUSTRATED. (And I'm more than a little excited about it!) But the pictures, alas, must stay on tumblr. So therefore, you should mosey on over there and check it out.
I own nothing.
Mary twists the diamond ring on her finger nervously. It's a bit ostentatious for her taste, but it had made her fiancé happy to see such a precious family heirloom on her finger, so she couldn't possibly complain. Her fingers travel upwards and start to fidget with the lace of her sleeve.
She takes a deep breath and reminds herself that it's perfectly normal for a bride to be nervous on her wedding day, expected even. She hears the first notes of the music she had selected to walk down the aisle to. Granted, she would have been happy with a small ceremony at the magistrate's office, but he had so wanted to show her off and who was she to deny that? She certainly doesn't mind being admired.
There's a ripple of anticipation right before Mary takes a deep breath and steps into the church. When she does, there's a soft sigh as the women all take her in. She smiles, taking care that her beaming grin will hide any and all nerves in her eyes. The dress does a fine job of hiding the tremor in her knees. She keeps her eyes focused on the floor in front of her; the last thing she needs is to be sent sprawling in the middle of her own wedding. She nods and smiles at those whose seats line aisle and makes a mental note to write them all thank you notes for their attendance.
She doesn't look beyond the aisle, afraid of who she might see there. Or who she won't. She had extended him an invitation to be polite, but now she rather wishes she hadn't.
Finally she reaches the altar. Squaring her shoulders, she daintily picks up the silk skirt and comes to stand by her groom. Her solid, predictable, steady groom. Tamping down the panic she is starting to feel, she takes his hand and gives a shaky smile.
His sandy blond hair is slicked back to perfection and his green eyes sparkle at her. Not a single hair out of place, just as Mary likes it. She reminds herself what this man represents: a new start, a certain future, comfort and stability. All things she needs terribly in her life. She is certain she is doing the right thing for herself.
But even as she says her vows, she can't shake the feeling that in marrying Alastair Fleming, she is marrying the wrong man entirely.