A March Bride (A Year of Weddings 1 #4)(11)

In truth, he was a man of steel when it came to keeping secrets.

“I want to go home now, Nathaniel.”

“Now? The wedding is three weeks away. We have engagements on our diaries. The last time we coordinated our schedules, yours was fairly booked. I think you have a final fitting and wedding arrangements to approve.”

“I don’t care.” She stood, trembling, shaking from a cold she couldn’t define. “I know it makes me sound loony, but I need to go home.” Unchecked tears now spilled down her cheeks. “I miss everyone. I miss Granny. She’s eighty-five years old. Complications from pneumonia could be devastating. And . . .” She gave him a long, steady glance. “I need to think.”

“Think? About what?”

“What you’re asking me to do. Give up my citizenship. I never really thought about it before, but, Nathaniel, I’m literally giving up everything. By the time we’re married, I won’t recognize myself.”

“I realize that, but there’s no need to run off.” He stared away from her, his jaw tensing.

“I need some time. Some space.”

“Have your space. Take some time. But flying to America is rather drastic, don’t you think?”

“I’m not flying to America, Nathaniel. I’m going home.”

He sighed, long and heavy. “Will you come back?”

She pressed her hands beside her temples, her head starting to throb with emotional pressure. “I don’t know.”

“Susanna, we’ve been on this course for nearly ten months. And now you ‘don’t know’?” She could see the passion in his voice reflected on his face and in his eyes. “What is it you don’t know?”

“I don’t know what I don’t know.” Her thoughts and reason deflated like a carnival balloon. “It’s all coming down to the wire. This is it. Forever. No one from my side of the family is coming except Daddy, Mama, Avery, and Daddy’s sister and her husband.” Susanna eyed the tea cart, which also contained an ice bucket of water bottles. She reached for one, twisting off the cap. “Now my granny can’t come, nor my best friend. It makes me wonder.” The heat of panic crawled across the base of her neck. “Then you bring up my citizenship and I just wonder if all of this isn’t some sort of sign. Like I’ve ignored all the others and God is throwing me one last clue.”

“You can’t be serious. The citizenship writ is a sign not to marry me? Gracie and your granny’s health issue are signs for us not to wed?”

“Well, what would you think if you were me?” She knew in her head that she was not making one bit of sense. But her heart said, “Soldier on, sister.”

She took a long sip of water, trying to quench the parched place deep in her soul.

“This is ludicrous. Look at everything that’s gone well, Susanna. Our wedding plans have fallen into place. The people of Brighton are embracing you. I daresay the citizens of the world are embracing you.”

“People hate me too. A friend from home sent me a link to the latest Susanna hate blog.”

“Blimey, why do they send you those blasted things? Do they think you want to see them?” He paced around the chairs. “I can’t believe you’re drawing our whole relationship into question. Teach me to fall in love! This is Adel all over again.”

“Excuse me, but this is not Adel all over again.” Susanna intercepted his path to confront him. “Adel never had the challenges I’ve had. She was only concerned about her privacy, and frankly, she’s not done a good job of keeping her life out of the papers anyway. I resent the comparison.”

“What would you have me believe? I’ve no choice here, Susanna. If you marry me, you must be a Brighton citizen and a Brighton citizen alone. The only other option is for me to abdicate—”

“Never.” Susanna flashed him her palm. “You abdicate and this wedding is off for sure. I won’t be responsible for the crumbling of the House of Stratton.”

“Then what are we arguing about?” He pressed his hands on the back of a wing chair. “And by the way, I’m not Adam Peters toying with your heart until something better comes along.”

“I know, I know.” Susanna downed the last of her water.

“Do you? Because sometimes I believe you’re still that girl on the beach waiting for him to propose.”

“Yeah, and sometimes I believe you’re the terrified lad who proposed publicly and got humiliated. And who started to think that no woman would want you because her life will never be her own.”

“And? Am I wrong? That’s precisely what you’re saying to me now. That nothing of yourself will remain once you become a Brighton citizen and marry me.”

Susanna conceded with an exhale. He was right. So what was bothering her? Really? She’d weighed the cost when she said yes to Nathaniel. She’d understood it meant leaving her life behind and beginning a new one in a new kingdom, with a new name and a new destiny.

But then the “Not Attending” RSVPs started rolling in and there was one thing after another. Pile on after pile on.

And something dark hovered over her heart.

“I don’t even know what I’m doing here,” she said barely above a whisper as she picked at the water bottle’s paper label. “Nathaniel, what do you want with me? A plain ole common Georgia girl with red clay on her feet and sea salt in her blood.”