Chapter 5

Quite the Catch

Three hours. It had been three long and unsuccessful hours that they had been in that dreadful room. Three hours and still Victor could not get his vows right.

"Master Van Dort, from the beginning," a very irritated Pastor Galswells began. "Again."

He held his bible in his gnarled hands and recited, for the hundredth time, the marked text. "With this hand, I will lift your sorrows. Your cup will never empty, for I will be your wine. With this candle, I will light your way in darkness. With this ring, I ask you to be mine." He then shut the book with a dramatic thud and turned his irked gaze upon Victor. "Let's try it again."

"Yes," Victor trembled in reply. "Yes, sir." He then raised the candle to eye level. "With this candle..." he spoke before leaning forward to light the offending object upon the flame that flickered from the candle that stood on the table in front of him. "This candle..." For heaven's sake! The damned thing would not light. "This candle..."

A murming of voices caused him to look behind him. The bored faces of his and Victoria's parents stared back at him.

"Shall I get up there and do it for him?" Mrs. Van Dort muttered to her husband as she furiously fanned herself and fussed with her hair.

"Don't go all aflutter, dear," her husband warned.

Victor swallowed thickly then sought out the eyes of Emily.

She sat next to the Van Dorts, patiently waiting for Victor to continue. When she saw that Victor's eyes had landed upon her she gave him what she hoped was an encouraging smile and a little nod of her head.

Victor returned her smile, but before he allowed himself to be lost in her gaze, a grumble of a cough interrupted the intimate moment.

Victor whipped his head around, making eye contact with Pastor Galswells. The flickering of candlelight caught his eye, making him realize he was finally successful in lighting his candle. He straightened and spoke again. "With this candle..." A nervous laugh escaped his lips causing him to extinguish the newly captured flame. Sheepishly, he watched as a whisp of smoke floated up to the ceiling.

It was then that the doorbell rang, causing everyone to give a somewhat relieved sigh at the interruption. Pastor Galswells, on the other hand, grumbled as his eyes twitched with ire. "Continue!" he barked at Victor.

"Get the door, Emil," Lord Everglot commanded the butler, who shuffled off to answer the door.

"Let's just pick it up at the candle bit," Pastor Galswells said through clenched teeth.

Emil then shuffled back into the room and handed Lord Everglot a small card. "A Lord Barkis, sir," he informed his master.

A man with a handsomely tailored suit, swept through the door. His hair was graying and swept back over his skull, and his chin was large and squared.

"I haven't a head for dates," he said casually, shining his nails upon his coat. "Apparently I'm a day early for the ceremony."

He had a way of speaking that captured the intrigue of the individuals in the room. It was as if every word he spoke was so packed full of charm, that everyone could not help but be fascinated and enthralled by him. That is, everyone except for Emily.

That voice. She knew that voice. It was a voice that often haunted her dreams. Well... Nightmares was probably a more appropriate choice of words.

It was none other than the voice of Lord Henry Hurst.

She should say something. Expose him somehow. But, that wouldn't be so easy. Mostly because this man looked very little like Lord Henry Hurst.

Henry had been twig-like and had a mop of chestnut hair. This Lord Barkis fellow, however, had hair that was nearly completely gray and had a much squashier frame. It would be hard to convince everyone else that this was the man responsible for her father's death.

Oh, but Emily was not going to give up so easily. She would find a way to expose this man, but until then, she had to focus on not being recognized by him.

For now, she would just have to settle for hiding her face behind a curtain of raven hair.

"Do carry on," Barkis spoke again once he was seated.

"Let's try it again, shall we, Master Van Dort?" growled Pastor Galswells.

"Yes," mumbled Victor as Victoria lit his candle with her own. "Yes, sir. Certainly."

"Right."

"Right," Victor agreed before realizing it was a command. He had been holding his candle in his right hand when he should have been holding it in his left. "Oh, right!" he cried, nearly dropping the candle as he switched it to his other hand.

Now candle-free, he lifted his right hand awkwardly. "With this... This..." he stuttered, not sure of what the right words were.

Pastor Galswells was trembling with irriation. "Hand," he offered with a roll of his eyes.

"With this hand..." Victor started again. He offered his hand to Victoria, who took it with a smile. "I...will..." and with a thud, Victor walked straight into the table.

"Three steps, three!" shouted Pastor Galswells. Victor cowered and Victoria's hand shot to her mouth at Galswells' cry. "Can you not count? Do you not wish to be married, Master Van Dort?"

Victor's hands shot out in front of him in defence. "No!" he cried. "No."

Victoria gave a small gasp and turned on him. "You do not?" she questioned, disappointment coloring her tone.

"No!" Victor cried before sighing. "I meant," he continued, slowing his words so that they were clear, "no, I do not not wish to be married. That is, I want very much to--"

He was cut off by Pastor Galswells' staff making a sharp blow to the top of his head. "Ow!"

"Pay attention!" Galswells snapped. "Have you even remembered to bring the ring?"

"The ring?" Victor echoed, before catching on. "Yes. Of course." he began digging around in his coat pockets in search for the ring. When he found it, he held up the little, gold band between his thumb and index finger for the room to see. He was so nervous the he gnawed at his bottom lip. That didn't stop the trembling of his hands, though.

The ring slipped from his grasp and began bouncing across the floor.

"Dropping the ring!" cried Lady Everglot.

"Oh, no, he's dropped the ring!" bellowed his father.

"This boy doesn't want to get married!" Galswells shouted to the heavens.

"How disgraceful!" Lady Everglot sneered as the ring rolled right under her skirts.

"Excuse me," Victor began as he got down on all fours, and without thinking, stuck his hand under Lady Everglot's dress to locate the ring, which caused everyone to gasp with shock. "Got it!" he said once it was located, and he held it up for them all to see.

A triumphant smile began to grace his lips, but was interrupted by the smell of smoke and the whooshing sound of flames. He turned around just in time to see Lady Everglot's dress catch fire. The cause of it was from the candle he had abandoned upon the floor.

He quickly got up from his knees, but then was forcibly pushed by Lord Everglot, who cried, "Out of the way, you ninny."

The entire room was in a fit of panic. Which, depending on who you were, was a blessing and a curse. This sudden fit allowed a certain someone to leave the room unheard and unseen by anyone. Especially convenient when trying to avoid murding ex-fiancés.

For those who remained in the room, things got a little chaotic.

"Oh, dear!" Mr. Van Dort cried out in a mad frenzy. "Oh, my! Giddy on, there's a woman on fire! Help! Emergency!"

Mrs. Van Dort, on the other hand, hovered over Lady Everglot and fanned fervently at her skirts. "Oh, I hope it doesn't stain."

Lady Everglot slapped at the fan, nearly hitting the other woman in the face. "Stop fanning it, you fool."

"Get a bucket," Nell Van Dort cried to her husband. "Get a bucket."

Mr. Van Dort than began to run off in a random direction. "I'm on my way, dear. Yes. Oh, dear!"

But, before a bucket of water could be reached, Lord Barkis emptied a goblet of wine upon Maudeline Everglot's skirts and extinguished the fire. A proud smile graced his lips whilst everyone else stared at him with stunned expressions.

"Enough!" Galswells bellowed, now completely fed up with everyone and everything. "This wedding cannot take place until he is properly prepared." He stalked through the small crowd of people until he was face to face with Victor. "Young man," he started, pointing an ominous finger at him. "Learn. Your. Vows," he finished, emphasizing each word with a jab of his finger.

Everyone in the room now had their eyes on Victor. Each one of them glared at him so intensely that he cowered and stumbled out the room in a hurry.

The last words he heard as he fled from the scene, were Lord Barkis' words of, "Well, he's quite the catch, isn't he?"