A Knight in Central Park(105)
A stab of anxiety stopped him cold. What if Alexandra wasn’t happy to see him? Maybe he had assumed too much. If she thought he left her on purpose she would be furious, wouldn’t she? At the very least, hurt, angry. He hadn’t thought this through...he wasn’t prepared.
He straightened, puffed out his chest as he decided that it didn’t matter how angry she was with him. He would make her see the truth. If he had to spend the rest of his life telling her, showing her, convincing her of his love for her, then that’s what he would do. He started off again.
Alexandra’s home was no longer a pile of rubble. New construction had begun. Sir Richard, it appeared, had kept his word, sending more than a few men to help rebuild. Horses and wagons were tied to trees and wooden posts. Joe heard a spirited chorus of flutes and a string of laughter coming from the barn.
He set his things down and headed that way.
Precious whinnied upon seeing him approach. He gave the horse a pat on the neck before stopping just outside the open doors of the barn. His gaze fell on Alexandra.
He stood paralyzed. Her hair, just as he remembered, long and luxurious, hung down her back; no braid constricted her hair today. Instead, the red mass hung loose and carefree, the way it had looked when he first found her in his home after she struck him down with a plunger. At the moment she looked like a fairy princess.
“Dearly beloved,” the priest began, “we are gathered together here in the sight of God to join together this Man and this Woman in holy Matrimony, which is an honorable estate, instituted...”
Alexandra didn’t turn around. She hadn’t seen him yet. She was dressed all in white with delicate lace slippers covering her feet. And she was standing at the altar...with another man.
He’d known all along she’d make a spectacular looking bride. His jaw twitched. His hands curled into fists at his side. A day late and a dollar short.
“Therefore if any man can show any just cause, why they may not lawfully be joined together, let him now speak, or else hereafter for ever hold his peace.”
Joe cleared his throat and stepped forward. “I refuse to hold my peace.”
That got their attention. Everybody in the barn turned their gaze on him. Joe straightened, ignoring the angry glares that fell upon him. He didn’t look Alexandra’s way again, afraid of what her reaction might be. He wasn’t ready to look into her eyes. Not yet.
“Go on,” the priest said, letting Joe have his say.
Joe saw Garrett up front and center. The kid crossed his arms and waited with the rest of the crowd, except Garrett had a smirk on his face. The boy hadn’t changed a bit. Just wait until Garrett found out he was staying for good. The thought put a smile on Joe’s face.
“We are waiting,” the priest said with less patience.
Joe cleared his throat. “I have a big problem with this wedding taking place.”
“So we see,” the priest agreed.
Joe shoved his hands deep inside his pockets, jangled his change. “And I’m pretty sure I have ample just cause.”
Susan pushed her way to the front of the crowd and now stood next to Garrett. Clearly she was not happy with him. Her frowning could very well scare a herd of wild boars.
Rebecca, always and forever at her sister’s side, made a slicing motion at her throat as if to tell him to quit while he was behind. They loved their sister, and he appreciated their concern, but he hadn’t come back to watch Alexandra marry another man. Nobody was marrying Alexandra but him.
The entire village could come at him with pitchforks but it wouldn’t stop him.
The priest slammed his book shut, giving Joe a start. “And your just cause is?”
“Alexandra Dunn isn’t exactly a virgin bride,” Joe blurted, now deathly afraid to glance Alexandra’s way. “She told me she loved me.”
“And do you love her?”
“More than anything in this world. More than hot showers, television, and taxicabs. You name it, anything in the world, and I can tell you I love Alexandra more.”
The priest scratched his head. “Do you mean to tell me you have stopped this wedding to confess your undying love for the bridesmaid?”
The crowd’s murmurs and whispers sounded like the drones of myriad honeybees. Joe shifted his weight. “What do you mean exactly when you say bridesmaid?”
Garrett snorted. “Mary is the one marrying, not Alexandra, you fool-born base-court—”
“Beef-witted moron,” Joe finished to Garrett’s satisfaction after the boy’s words sank in. Joe looked to the altar. Two redheads: one bride, one bridesmaid. Mary being the one in white, next to...Sir Richard. Mary was the one marrying Sir Richard. Alexandra had been upset that she had missed the marriage ceremony; she probably insisted they marry again before family.