P&P FF

"The Captain's Concession: A Bennet's Destiny"

Mr. Bennet folded the letter and resealed it with wax. He then unlocked a box used for letters he held most dear and put it with a few others, one of which was written by Elizabeth. And then he took the box back to its a cool, dry, storage area. This was one letter he hoped would be preserved far longer than most others which crossed his threshold.

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Captain Takes a Wife

CH. 16

Emil walked into the church wearing traditional Scottish Highland dress, complete with a jacket, a crisp white shirt, and a tartan kilt that bore the colors of his clan. He also wore a sporran, a sgian-dubh tucked into his kilt hose, and a ghillie brogues that quietly echoed on the stone floor with each step he took as he walked up next to Mary.

Mary may have accepted things; however, that did not mean there were no butterflies fluttering in her stomach. She fought not to lay a hand on her stomach as her eyes focused on the captain, and not on the fact she was no longing anywhere near the English moors of Meryton. She had chosen to wear a white an ivory wedding dress with an A-line tartan skirt.

Mary hoped by honoring the Scottish traditional dress it would help ease the transition her entrance into the culture around her. She had chosen to accent her attire with a plaid shawl in the same tartan as Emil's kilt. She had chosen to tie up the look with a Luckenbooth brooch, and had it pinned close to her heart.

Emil looked did not fail to notice Mary's efforts to honor a culture he had little chance to truly be a part of due to all his time out to sea. And, taking a hold of Mary's hands, the captain found it quite endearing to see Mary's cheeks slightly flush just the preacher began to speak.

His mother, sister, nephew, and a handful of crew members were the only one present for the wedding. It was the one sight that pained Mary's heart as she would have loved to have it changed. Charlotte would have stayed except the people who were chaperoning her had their own time limit; hence her inability to stay for the wedding. However, the young lady still smiled. No one had forced her into this, not the captain nor her father. And that is why when it came her time to say, "I do', Mary repeated those words determined not to bring shame to the either the Bennet, or the Pedersen name.

"Congratulations, Captain. I never thought to see you wed," the old seaman said with a grin, his weathered hand firmly shaking Emil's hand once the ceremony was over. And as they stood on the steps of the old church, another gave Emil a hearty slap on the back.

"Aye, you've landed quite the catch. Mary's like a rare silver darlin' from the northern seas—elusive and treasured by all who know her worth."

"As much as I appreciate what you are trying to say." The captain smiled, but his eyes took on a gentle, but firm look. "I would appreciate it if you would not compare Mary to a fish. I believe you owe her an apology." He had seen Mary stiffen and thought his bride had taken offense at the comparison.

"I am sorry, Mrs. Pedersen." The seaman speaking turned to Mary. "I meant no insult."

"You are fine; Your words just reminded me of someone I once knew is all. I am sorry to have stiffened at them."

"In that case, I truly am sorry." The gentleman figured you would have to be a blindman to see it was a recent loss. "I wish you peace in your loss and much happiness in your future." With that the seaman disappeared out of sight.

Emil pulled Mary aside and whispered, "I didn't trick your dad; I really do have a strong soft spot in my heart for England due to my first sea captains. However. family comes first. And I sincerely need, for the sake of my mother and sister, to keep them in Scotland. If it weren't for that, staying in England could've been a viable option for your sake if you so desired to reside there. But now, I needed to go, as I said for them."

Mary's reply was too low to hear. Her words were not harsh. However, as soon as they were at. She realized they had most likely not been necessary and had been born -most likely- out of the accumulation of built up stress.

"Did you marry me because you wanted to?" Emil softened his tone as soon as his own ears picked up the way his words had come out of his mouth. "Mary, I didn't mean to come off so strong. I really hope we can grow to love each other, with all the warmth of our Scottish and English hearts can muster."

"I hope so too."

"Let's talk, just us, openly and honestly. You married me to save your dad from jail. And I didn't marry you just because I was looking for a wife. You're English, which helps with inheriting my uncle's land. You're smart and literate. People say you've a mind to stand your ground even though its not the same way as your sister. That part - the bit about it not bein' the same as Elizabeth's- doesn't matter to me. I already knew, afore my time in Meryton, as lon' as you could be your own person, someone who could handle adaptin' to the highlands while I'm away for weeks, or maybe, later even months than ye could handle bein' my wife."

"I get it. I guess I just assumed men did what they wanted, though I did not think you'd trade the sea for sheep."

Emil laughed. He stopped when Mary looked puzzled, and his mom and sister glanced over, wondering what was so funny. "If it weren't for my sister or mother, no sheep could ever replace the sea."

That told Mary one thing. If Margaret remarried and his mother passed away, she would be living one of her dreams, with Emil back at sea. That didn't surprise her.

Emil then led Mary to his carriage, helped her in next to his mom, with Margaret and her son sitting across. Emil took the coachman's seat, and they headed north. Mary had no clue where they'd spend their wedding night or if they'd even have one.

They rode through the stunning Scottish scenery, with rolling hills, heather, and pines. The air smelled of earth and wildflowers. Mary was captivated by the beauty of the Borders, so different from the English countryside.

As dusk fell, they reached Heather House, a grand inn with a welcoming stone facade. The staff greeted them warmly, a Scottish tradition.

Widow Pedersen, Widow Craig, and her son got one room, and the captain and Mary another. Mary admired the spacious room, decorated with tartan. From the window, she saw the vast estate, a sign of a new beginning, as long as she didn't keep score.

"Mary," Emil said, and that was all it took for her to think of nothing but him until morning.