Chapter 13:

Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday went by in a blur of shopping and planning and decisions for the little ceremony, and Sydney and Vaughn barely saw each other until after nightfall, when he would follow the ritual they'd become accustomed to and come to her room via the secret passageways so that they could be together. Then they would spend a couple of hours in intimacy before falling asleep in each other's arms.

It was on Tuesday night that Sydney had brought to Vaughn's attention the need for a maid or matron of honor, and how his mother had been trying to get her to decide. Sydney had wondered if Annabelle would agree to it, but Vaughn had sensed there was something she wasn't saying. "You would like your mother beside you, wouldn't you?" he guessed.

She'd smiled shyly as she looked over her shoulder at him and asked curiously, "How did you know that?"

He just made a pleased face that he'd been right as he shrugged his free shoulder. "I'm sure your mother would be honored."

"But it's not traditional…" she'd mildly argued.

Vaughn had pulled her closer and pointed out, "Neither is marrying after knowing one another for a mere two weeks."

She'd giggled at that. "But…you don't think it would be odd? Your mother might think so."

"It's not her wedding."

Seeing his point, she took his advice and approached Amélie first thing Wednesday morning before breakfast, giving her the decision they'd made. "I know it probably goes against tradition," Sydney had tried to explain, "but Michel pointed out that we haven't exactly done anything traditional where our relationship is considered."

Amélie had to agree with that but seemed surprised. "When were you and Michel able to discuss this? You were intent on having Annabelle as your matron of honor before retiring last evening."

"Oh, um," Sydney was caught and had to quickly think up something. "Well, we-we went for a late stroll through the garden last night to talk and unwind after the long day." She'd nodded with that lie, hoping to convince her a little better.

After a moment of studying Sydney's seemingly innocent face, Amélie had finally smiled. "I will wager that Irina will be pleased to stand beside you."

Sydney inwardly cheered that her lie had pacified Amélie (and that their two mothers were growing close enough for her to call her mother by her first name) but she still made it a point over the next couple of days not to mention that Vaughn had helped with any other decision she had to make.

By Thursday night, Sydney was nearly wiped out from all of the planning. After spending an entire meal at dinner trying to keep her eyes open, she'd reluctantly given in, excusing herself from the table to retire early. Vaughn seemed notably worried as he stood with her, believing that something was wrong. So he offered to walk with her to her door to say goodnight where he asked her if she was feeling well.

"I'm fine," she stopped in front of him and reached up to lovingly touch his face. "Someone has been keeping me up late every night for the last couple of weeks, that's all," she grinned. "And added to all of the planning and decisions… I just need a nap."

He touched her cheek with the backs of his fingertips in worry. "You'll be alright?"

"Mm hmm… I should feel much better by about…ten o'clock?" She'd ended her statement with a questioning tone as an invitation and he chuckled.

Then he leaned in closer to whisper, "I'll see you then," before kissing her goodbye.

Several hours later, Sydney woke up when there was a knock on the door. She reacted automatically by sitting up and checking the other side of the bed to make sure Vaughn would get up to hide. But he wasn't there.

Curiously furrowing her eyes as she wondered where he was, she slowly got up from the bed and padded her bare feet across the floor to answer the door. She was surprised to find her fiancé on the other side with his hands behind his back and a smile on his face.

"Michael," she whispered. "You shouldn't be coming through my bedroom door."

His smile widened with her scolding. "I'm not. I…wish to take you somewhere."

"Where?"

His expression was unwavering as he pulled one hand from behind his back to reveal a deep-colored, long-stemmed, red rose. "It's a surprise."

"Oh," she stood up straighter, taking the flower with a grin, letting the door open a bit more. She inhaled the flower's scent for a moment before lifting her face to his, realizing that she believed that she simply could not be any more in love with him and yet he constantly proved her wrong. "Okay," she said easily, knowing that she'd never mistrust him and that whatever he had in store for her would be nothing short of wonderful.

"Get dressed and put on your shoes, and I'll meet you at the front door," he instructed. "And don't forget your wrap."

"Are we going outside?" she asked and he nodded. "What time is it?"

"It's after ten. Everyone's asleep, so remember to be quiet."

Just a bit more than five minutes later, Sydney emerged from her bedroom wearing the same thing she'd worn earlier in the evening – a simple, off-white dress with a low-cut bodice and long sleeves, and a matching off-white, full-length cape – and quietly descended the steps to meet him.

He watched her in the dim light of the moon filtering in through the mansion's many windows and he couldn't help but smile, feeling happier with each step that brought her closer to him. As she approached, he was fixated in his spot thinking about how they would soon be man and wife, and she would be his forever. Before he could snap out of his daydreams, she was standing directly in front of him and smiling for all she was worth. "You seem deep in thought," she murmured with her lips close to his.

The right side of his face curved up as he reached for both of her hands at her sides. "Only about what you mean to me."

She completed the move to close the distance between them and lightly kissed him. "So…where are you taking me?" she asked, in another attempt to get him to divulge his surprise.

"Come on," he replied as he let go of one of her hands and turned toward the door. "I'll show you."

Just outside the front door, at the bottom of the main steps was Vaughn's private, open-topped carriage with one horse and driver – a very tired-looking Claude. Sydney gazed over at Vaughn curiously, but willingly allowed him to lead her down the steps and up into the waiting vehicle. Once settled on the seat, he picked up a blanket and unfolded it to drape it across their laps, and then leaned back, putting his arm around her. He gave the instruction to Claude, and then they were off.

Leaning back against her fiancé after they'd left the grounds of their mansion, Sydney sighed. "This could put me back to sleep," she smiled tiredly. "What gave you this idea?"

"It occurred to me that since you've come here, I have neglected to take you on a tour of the city at night. Paris could not be more beautiful than by the light of the moon."

She turned her face toward his shoulder, snuggling closer, thinking about the sightseeing they did together before their jump back to the past. Their romantic boat trip on the Seine was the predominant memory in her mind as she sighed out, "I remember."

He kissed the top of her head, sensing what she was thinking. "I will never forget."

She settled more against him, enjoying the view and the company, and the silence of the quiet city. Only the sounds of the horse's steps and Claude's soft whistle of a recognizable tune floated throughout the air around them.

That was, until they reached their destination.

Stopping just shy of the banks of the Seine, Claude turned toward Vaughn, telling them that they'd arrived. Sydney looked at Vaughn curiously. "Would you like to go for a walk along the river?" he offered.

His words were like a breath of fresh air. "That would be wonderful," she admitted on an exhale, and he proceeded to exit and offer his hand to her.

Vaughn spoke quietly with his manservant while Sydney waited before he turned back toward her with a grin. "Ready?"

She nodded, but as they fell into step beside one another, she just had to know, "What did you say to Claude?"

"I told him when and where to pick us up," he answered simply, gesturing to the concrete steps ahead of them that led to the water's edge.

Allowing her to go first, she waited at the bottom until they were side-by-side once more and took his arm as they walked, settling into the slow and steady pace in contentment. They had only gone about five hundred feet when Sydney saw a man stand up from the end of a long, gondola-style boat, making her wonder why he would be out at an hour that was considered very late by the standards of everyone in that era.

Merely furrowing her eyebrows, she didn't question it until Vaughn greeted the man by name. After a minute of conversation between the two men, Sydney knew that this had been planned all along, but she was just stunned and frozen in her spot until Vaughn held out his hand in order to get her into the boat. "Surprise," he said in English as his smile widened.

"This is your surprise?" she pointed to the gondola and the man Vaughn had called "Jacques". "I thought it was just the carriage ride."

"Nope," Vaughn reverted back to the modern American slang he had picked up during her time.

His continuous smile and the light of love in his eyes was enough to make her weak in the knees, and she quickly stepped toward him and cupped his face to kiss him. "I love you," she whispered, overwhelmed by her own need to get the words out, as if they would relieve some of the bubbling pressure within her.

Given the time and place, and being under the gaze of a practical stranger, Sydney expected that when he brought his hands up to capture hers at his chin, it was to remind her of her inappropriate behavior in public. But he did no such thing.

Instead, he took both of her hands between his and clasped them together to kiss her fingertips, and smiled lovingly at her. "Let's go," he coerced, and then helped her into the boat.

As soon as they were underway, and Sydney was comfortably seated, leaning back against Vaughn in her usual spot with another blanket draped over both of them, she questioned softly, "Do you know him?" She kept her voice low and gestured toward their driver discreetly, even though Jacques was several feet behind them, driving the boat with a long pole.

"Yes," Vaughn replied quickly. "He's an old acquaintance from military school," he revealed and then added slyly, "And he does not speak any English."

She half-smiled; satisfied with his way of letting her know that they could talk freely. "I thought just happening upon him and this boat this late in the evening seemed a little convenient. You seem to be very good at planning your surprises." He chuckled a little, so she affirmed, "I'm serious – you keep me guessing. You'd make a great spy."

"Quite a compliment, coming from you. I've seen you work."

She scoffed just a bit. "Please," she waved one hand that had been resting on her lap. "It was just a job for me… And I had to have months and months of training too."

Running his palm down her covered arm, he tilted his face forward and kissed her exposed neck. "Maybe in another life," he commented lightly, finishing up the subject.

Sydney smiled happily as she caught sight of one of the numerous bridges ahead getting closer. "Hey, remember that night we went on the cruise? What the guide told us?"

"About the sights?"

"No," she grinned surreptitiously, knowing only he would recollect what she was talking about. "About the superstition."

He chuckled, remembering how they'd kissed under each bridge. "Yes, I do recall that fondly. And I would love to recreate that night, but it would not be appropriate in front of Jacques." She dropped her eyes to her lap, so he reassured her by capturing her left hand to run his thumb over the ring on her finger. "Besides, we do not need as much luck as we did that night. We are already together and will be man and wife in two days," he reminded her.

"Yeah," she pulled his arms tighter around her waist and smiled again. "It's a little surreal." She wondered, "Are you nervous?"

"No, not really. You?"

She shook her head. "Not about the wedding – your mother has it planned perfectly."

"But you are still anxious about something?" he deduced.

Slowly shrugging one shoulder a bit, she confessed, "I don't want my parents to leave."

"Ah," he understood.

"We've spent more time together in the last week than we ever have, and after Saturday, all of that will be over…for life."

"I'm sorry," he spoke softly. "I wish there was something I could do to change it for you…but at least you know now how much they love you."

Her eyes were watery just thinking about what the immediate future held, but she wouldn't allow herself to cry just yet. She had the next two days to get through before she knew she could understandably be a complete, blubbering mess.

"Take all of tomorrow and spend it with them," he suddenly suggested.

"But the wedding—"

"You said yourself that my mother seems to have it handled. Let her worry about the last, few details."

Sydney thought about that a moment. "You don't think that she'll mind?"

"No," he shook his head. "I'm sure she'll understand. And she'll have Annabelle to help her." He stroked the back of her hand when he saw her dimple in her right cheek appear for just a second. "And then we'll figure out a way to leave your parents messages," he thought out loud. "You could keep a journal and leave it to them in the future… That way they will get to experience everything you will go through with you. I know it would not be the same, but—"

"I love that idea," she stopped him, and then sat up to turn to face him. She kept her eyes low as she slowly confessed, "Michael…I knew what I was sacrificing when I came back to be with you." Then she met his gaze. "I know that being with you is worth it, and I will always be happy with you...and I don't want you to think that I believe otherwise. I'm sorry if I complain too much—"

His fingertips were on her lips, preventing her from saying any more. "You are not complaining – you are merely confessing your sorrow. And even if you were, you could never 'complain too much' with me." He moved his hand to her chin, staring deeply into her eyes. "Never be afraid to say anything to me…okay?"

"I won't," she promised, and then added wistfully, "You will be all I'll have left."

He shook his head, "That's not why I said—"

"I know," she spoke apologetically. Then she shrugged again, with her eyes moist. "I guess I just don't want to have to face saying goodbye to them again. I've already done it once before with each of them."

"With one notable difference," he interjected and her face turned curious. "I wasn't with you when you said goodbye before. We'll be doing it together this time."

Hearing his comforting words, Sydney curled up against his shoulder once more and sniffed. "Thank you," she whispered as she blinked away her tears and they continued down the river.

An hour or so later, they got off of the boat at Vaughn's command and met Claude and the carriage to head back home, leaving their thanks with Jacques. Both of them were silent with fatigue as they made the trip back to the mansion, wrapped up in each other. Once arriving, they noticed the house was still eerily quiet as expected, so after saying goodnight to their servant and entering the house, the young couple moved silently up the stairs to Sydney's bedroom door.

She stopped outside her room and turned to face him, slightly biting her bottom lip. "Will I see you in a few minutes?" she asked in a suggestive whisper.

"Actually," he dropped his eyes. "I was thinking… I want our wedding night to be special as I'm sure you do—"

"Of course," she interrupted, even though she didn't really know where he was going with this.

"Would you mind if we waited…if we…slept apart until Saturday?"

"No," she said a little too acceptingly when she got his point. "That would be fine. That's a good idea."

Despite her good nature over the idea, he still sensed something was off. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," she faked a smile. "I'll be fine."

Taking a step forward, he captured her jaw once more. "Sydney. Tell me what it is," he spoke softly, hoping she would be reminded of her promise in the boat to keep nothing from him.

She dropped her eyes and let out a breath when she knew he wouldn't let it go until she confessed what was troubling her. "I guess I…I just didn't want to be alone tonight."

Her need for his support elicited a small smile from him. "Would it help if I held you…until you went to sleep?"

Sydney seemed visibly relieved with his suggestion. "Yes," she replied as her eyes began to tear up again. "Thank you."

"Anything for you," he promised and accented it with a brief kiss. She was smiling as they parted, making him feel accomplished in his attempts to keep her happy. "I'll be in as soon as I can."

"Give me just a few minutes to change," she whispered, and he understood that she was trying to stick to their bargain of staying chaste for the next two days before their wedding night by undressing in private.

Running his palm down her shoulder and arm, he nodded gratefully and brought her hand to his lips in a gesture of saying goodnight for any possible watchful eyes and then allowed her to step inside her room. Then he was on his way to his room before he heard the sound of her door clicking closed.

She was already in bed, dressed in a nightgown when he came into the room, and he just kicked off his shoes and slipped between the sheets beside her. Wrapping his arm around her waist, he asked in a whisper, "Is this better?"

"Yeah," she murmured sleepily. "Th–"

"Don't thank me again," he lightly scolded. "This is what I'm here for, Sydney. And after one more night apart," Vaughn reminded her, "I'll be here for the rest of your life."

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