Solving problems, preparations, and problems

Even though we had only told Caleb and previously indirectly Prudence and Father Timothy about our engagement, the whole homestead knew about it shortly afterward. It was Caleb who hadn't been able to keep it for himself. We had barely told him as he had run excitedly through the homestead and had told everyone he had met on his way. I had been clueless when I had been on my way to the inn and had been congratulated by several people. Everybody said how excited they were for the wedding even though Connor and I didn't even know how the ceremony alone should be conducted. But our friends were less concerned about that than we were. Corrine even insisted immediately on arranging the wedding celebration while Maria and Ellen instructed me that I had come to the tailor's shop once, to take my measurements for the wedding dress. It was heart-warming how excited they were but also absurd in an alarming way. Recently I had been concerned if it was even possible for me to marry Connor and now it seemed as if the wedding was close to being organized. We only needed someone to define a date all of a sudden.

Connor as well as I had to realize that it made no sense to stop the settlers in their euphoria and so we let them. I just hoped that we were going to keep having a say in the whole thing. For now, it was more important to me to talk with Pater Timothy, so I stayed on my seat after the Sunday Mass while the others left the church and said goodbye to the Pater at the door.

"What can I do for you, Lillian?", he asked me when he came back into the church and sat down next to me on the bench. "Is it about the wedding?"

I nodded. "I'm worried about the ceremony itself and that it won't do justice to my faith. That my marriage to Connor in its sense has no permission because he's no Christian and we can't and don't want to do a Christian ceremony because of that."

Timothy nodded seriously. "Connor already told me about it and I have thought about it, as well. I understand why you're worried and it's really difficult. I don't know about a marriage that was contracted between a Christian and a heathen. Maybe because it's not acceptable from the Church's point of view."

He paused while I felt how a lump formed in my throat. I had expected that.

"And what do you say?", I asked quietly.

"Well, from the Church's point of view, your union would be impossible. But God created the men as man and woman, so the marriage is his will and I don't believe that he would decide between the religions. Only men presume to do that. The Lord's mercy is all-encompassing and doesn't decide between Christian and heathen." He smiled. "Connor is a good man. He respects his fellow men and even though he isn't baptized, he respects our religion. When I arrived here, he gave me the money to build this church so that the settlers were able to visit it again. When his mentor died, he came to me and asked me to organize and hold his funeral. I'm certain that he wouldn't do anything that offends you and your faith and I'm certain that he will always respect your marriage and I think that is most important."

I was grateful for his words. They calmed me. During the last days, I had always been worried about it and had tried to find a way out of my concerns with my knowledge about the bible. But to hear from a priest, that he had no serious reservations, was the only thing I had needed. But there was still the question about the ceremony. It was still impossible that Father Timothy married us and that was what I mentioned now.

The Father nodded and looked straight ahead to the pulpit. "I thought about that, too", he said slowly. "Do you have any ideas on how the ceremony should be held?"

I had already talked to Connor about it but his people didn't practice a wedding ceremony like the Christian. The families of the couple came together, talked about them and when they agreed that they were suited to each other, the marriage was decided. Not quite encouraging from my point of view but we had decided to hold our ceremony. I explained it to the Father who noted my words with a smile.

"I don't think that you can do something wrong and I can bless your marriage without holding the ceremony."

He winked at me and I gave him a thankful smile. "That's all I need."

Satisfied with the process of this conversation, I said goodbye to Father Timothy and went home, with a spring in my step and in high spirits. My way led me directly to Connor who was sitting in the shadow of a tree and carved a twig, while several others lay next to him the grass.

"What's that going to be?", I asked him curiously as I approached him and he lifted his head.

"New arrows. Caleb broke some during his solo effort." Connor put the knife and the twig in his hands aside and laid an arm around me when I sank on the grass next to him. Gently he pulled me closer and pressed a kiss to my hair while I leaned against him and just enjoyed this moment of closeness. After the conversation with Father Timothy, I felt even more thrilled with the thought of marrying him. To call him my fiancé was already an indescribable feeling but just thinking about calling him my husband soon, the man I was going to spend the rest of my life with, felt even better.

I pulled away from him reluctantly to look at him because I wanted to tell him something after all. "I talked to Father Timothy."

Connor cocked his head and concern flared up in his eyes until he saw the smile on my lips.

"What did he say?"

"Do you want the short version or the long one with all the religious details?" I grinned which made him smirk in turn.

"I think the short one is good enough."

Still grinning I put my hands into his nape and made his smirk even wider. Surely he could already imagine my answer but I couldn't help but announce solemnly: "He has no reservations and says that he can bless our marriage without a ceremony and that's everything I needed for my peace of mind. To know that I won't get into hell for marrying you."

Connor cocked his head with my last words but this sparkle in his eyes told me, that he was at least as happy about this answer as I was.

"That is wonderful", he said with a smile and pulled me closer to lean his forehead against mine. "When you are happy, I am happy, too."

And how happy I was. Finally, I was able to think about the wedding and enjoy it, but I hoped that he did it, too. I couldn't expect any kind of euphoria from Connor and he wouldn't be very demanding about the wedding itself. But I didn't want him to be passed over anyway because his opinion was important to me. It was our wedding, not mine.

"But we still have to talk about the ceremony", I said and pulled my head back to look at him while my hand ran through the hair in the back of his neck.

"I have not thought about it yet", Connor confessed and plaid with the braid over my shoulder. "The traditions we know are very different from each other. We have to find a way that satisfies us both."

I nodded slowly and thoughtfully pulled my bottom lip through my teeth. Maybe it was insane that we were talking about a wedding under these circumstances.

"Maybe we should think about what is most important to us", I began hesitantly. "We have long passages of conditions you have to accept with your word of consent. That you will honor your partner, love them, get through hard times with them...it is important but natural. Therefore we don't have to go through this onslaught of words if you ask me."

I smirked while Connor lifted an eyebrow. "So you do not want to make sure that I cannot search for excuses why I do not have to honor, love, and support you during our marriage?", he asked with a mischievous sparkle in his eyes.

"If you don't, I as the woman will decide to annul the marriage and throw you out." I laughed and pulled shortly at his braid, whereupon he took my arms from his shoulders and detained my wrists in front of his chest.

"We could make it easy and search for someone to be the spokesman for the ceremony. Who holds it at his discretion because basically, the most important thing is that we are officially pronounced husband and wife, or is it not?"

"And who?"

"It should be someone who knows us well and of whom we have a high opinion."

I smirked. "Well, Mr. Faulkner is the only person who comes to my mind. But I thought I ask him to walk me down the aisle."

Robert Faulkner was the first mate on the Aquila and a typical example for an old sailor. Sometimes quite harsh in his choice of words but with a big heart. He was a loyal friend and the only person I could imagine as the spokesman for our wedding.

"Maybe he can be both as long as it isn't too much for him."

Connor chuckled with my words, stood up, and pulled me to my feet. "We should ask him."

Faulkner had been visibly moved even though he had tried to hide it. But he had promised immediately to hold our wedding ceremony and to walk me down the aisle. I was glad to know that we had such a good friend by our side and also that we had settled the most important questions. In the following days, I was able to attend to the other preparations without worrying. Although I didn't like it that Connor wanted to stay out of everything. He said that the ceremony was the only important thing to him and he trusted Corrine's and my taste regarding the celebration. And Corrine was very passionate about it. She explained to me in every detail what she had planned for the meal, which decorations Prudence wanted to prepare, and how she thought about the course of the celebration. As long as the weather allowed it, we wanted to celebrate in the bay where the Aquila lay at anchor. Patiently I listened to Corrine's explanations and made own suggestions from time to time, but basically, I had the feeling that she was in control of everything. Until now I didn't dislike any of her ideas and I was extremely grateful for her help.

But she wasn't the only one who wanted to help me. Two days after my conversation with the Father, Maria visited me in the morning and complained about me because I hadn't come to the tailor's yet. I had asked her for help with my hair, which I wanted to shorten today but first I saw myself in front of a petite black-haired woman who was looking at me indignantly, with her hands on her hips and waiting for an answer.

"To be honest, I thought I wear one of my dresses. I have enough."

Maria rolled her eyes and uttered a snort. "But they are no wedding dresses." She linked arms with me and dragged me upstairs and into the bedroom, where I had to open the chest with my dresses. I still possessed four dresses from my time in London, which my friend took out of the chest one after another and laid them onto the bed. They were all beautiful but Maria screwed up her face and shook her head. "You can't wear something at your wedding that you would also wear for a soiree."

"But when else should I wear them if not at my wedding?"

At least my question wasn't directly unheard.

With her head cocked, she grabbed one of the dresses, lifted it, and regarded it thoroughly. It was cream-colored, almost golden, with delicate blossom embroidery on the robe, lavish decorations on the bodice, and delicate laces on the neckline. I had got it as a gift a long time ago and I groaned quietly when I remembered the reason.

"This was my debutante dress. I don't know why I still have it. Certainly, it doesn't fit anymore. I was eighteen at that time."

Maria gave me a glance from the side before she grinned and held the dress in front of me. "To try it on cannot be wrong. In case of need, I can still change it a bit."

I didn't even try to protest but slipped out of bodice and skirt without saying a word, while Maria took my corset out of the chest, stepped behind me, and laced it up. She didn't make it tight but she had barely fastened the first laces when I started to gasp for air and stepped from one foot onto the other. I just wasn't used to this feeling anymore but I clenched my teeth until Maria was finished with constricting me.

"Are you alright?", she asked and laughed when I just screw up my face. She took the dress and helped me to get into it. It fitted but it felt like it was too tight around my chest.

"Oh, great. Still petite like an eighteen-years-old but at least my breasts have grown", I growled which made Maria laugh again.

"We can tie them away. I haven't tightened the corset so much."

"That means I can struggle with suffocation at my wedding."

"As long as you can say 'I do', every thing's fine."

It seemed like Maria was mightily amused but I couldn't suppress a grin, too. I stepped to the mirror by the washstand and looked at my reflection, cocking my head. I liked the sight of me and could imagine getting married in this dress. Even though the fact, that this was the dress I had worn when I had been thrown onto the marriage market seven years ago, was quite ironic. There had been some young men who had been interested in me but my uncle Richard, my warden after my parents' death, had chased them away. He had never wanted to marry me off because it would have stopped him from batten on my heritage, which he had squandered successfully over the years.

But how mad he would be, if he knew that I'm going to marry Connor, I thought and grinned. As a Templar, he would probably turn in his grave, if he knew that his well-protected money source was going to fall into the hands of an Assassin and – according to Richard's own words – a "wild mutt".

"I would say I will sew a veil for you and we're done", Maria said with a satisfied smile and I nodded. She helped me to get out of the dress and the corset and I slipped back into my regular clothes. We put the dresses back into the chest and attended to my hair afterward. It took nearly an hour until Maria had shortened it properly and a bit melancholy I looked down at the long, dark brown strands which were lying on the floor all around my chair. Some centimeters were gone and now they reached down to my shoulder blades instead of my bottom. Still long but hopefully easier to groom and to style and I noticed with satisfaction that my natural curls came to light again. As a girl, I had worn a complete mess of wild curls on my head that had become straighter over the years. In adolescence, the wild frizzy mane had given way to wavy hair that I never had to curl and I always had been proud of it. But the longer my hair had got, the straighter it had become and the curls had disappeared completely. That they were coming back consoled me for the lost length and satisfied I ran my fingers through my hair. I could definitely get married like that.

One week later, the day had come. Nervous and wringing my hands, I was standing in our bedroom and let Maria lace up the corset. Periodically I was scolded for my fidgeting but I couldn't help myself. I had been amazingly calm for the last couple of days but it had changed this morning. I felt edgy and doubted that I was going to be able to stand still for a second, not even during the wedding ceremony. Maybe I had to tell Connor that he had to hold me so that I couldn't stomp on his feet. But I certainly wouldn't meet him before.

My fiancé had spent the night in the inn because one of the settlers had said with a wide grin, that the couple wasn't allowed to share a bed in the night before the wedding yet and he had emphasized the "yet" specifically. But I didn't want to think about the wedding night since my nervousness right now was enough. Furthermore, I began to doubt that I would ever get out of this dress, so tight was the corset. The only advantage was that the dress fitted better around my chest and I began to ask myself again, what we women were enduring for our beauty. We accepted that we could suffocate. My former teacher Theresa Bonham would have said: "It's better to die in beauty than to live in ugliness" and for the first time, I was willing to doubt this sentence.

When I sat down at the washstand, so that Maria could attend to my hair, I had to use every breathing technique I knew to get at least some air. Standing upright was always easier in a corset than sitting. But I endured without complaining that Maria was taking her time to comb my newly regained curls back on the sides so that my hair was only touching my back. My shoulders and the lavish quillings on the neckline were wonderfully shown to advantage like this and even though I was quite pale, I liked the sight of my reflection. Especially when Maria draped the veil on my hair, I finally felt like a bride.

"Do you feel ready?", Maria asked and smiled at me through the mirror. I nodded, maybe a bit shaky though and smiling she helped me onto my feet. She went first into the hallway where Mr. Faulkner was already waiting for us, my bridal bouquet in his hands. The first mate was wide-eyed as he saw me, grabbed my hands, and looked me over with admiration.

"You're looking stunning, lass", he said. "If the Captain doesn't want to take you for his wife like that, I surely can try my luck, can I?" He winked at me whereupon I chuckled. He made it easy for me not to die of nervousness.

"Can we go then? Are the others waiting for us?", asked Maria and Faulkner's smile began to waver. He let my hands go, took a step back, put a hand into the back of his neck, and looked down to the floor. Something seemed to worry him and I felt my heart missing a beat.

"What is it?", I asked him and Faulkner raised his eyes to look at me remorsefully.

"Well, the others are already waiting in the bay, but...I think we have a little problem."

He stepped from one foot onto the other while I didn't stop staring at him. He had to tell me, what was wrong. Damnit. "What is it?"

"Well, I fear...I fear that Connor is missing."