Consuelo had brunch with Josiah’s relatives the morning of the wedding, without either the bride or groom. Out of superstition, Annabelle didn’t want to see Josiah before the wedding, and he and Henry were relaxing at his house, and trying to keep cool. It was a blistering hot day, and Consuelo was worried that the flowers would wilt and the wedding cake would melt before the ceremony even began. The service in the garden was planned for seven o’clock that night, and they were sitting down to dinner at nine. There was no doubt in everyone’s mind that the party would go late.

There were a hundred and forty people coming finally, almost equally divided between the bride and groom. And Henry Orson, of course, was going to be the best man.

Hortie was the matron of honor, and if she didn’t have the baby before the wedding, she looked as though she could. She’d admitted to Annabelle, just to warn her, that she’d been having contractions for two days, and she was praying that her water wouldn’t break at the altar. It was bad enough, she said, just looking the way she did. She knew that everyone would be horrified to see her at the wedding, and would probably find it shocking. But she couldn’t let her best friend down. Annabelle had told her that it was sad enough not having her father or brother there, so Hortie couldn’t be absent too.

Blanche had come to Newport with them to be at the wedding. She was bustling around Annabelle’s bedroom in the afternoon, and fussing over her like a baby. And when the time came, she and Consuelo helped her into her wedding dress and did up the tiny buttons. The cinched-in waist and narrow gown were exquisite on her. And with a sharp intake of breath, Consuelo set the headpiece on Annabelle’s blond hair and settled the cloud of veil around her. Both women stood back to look at her, as tears rolled down their cheeks. Without question, Annabelle was the most beautiful bride they’d ever seen.

“Oh my God,” Consuelo whispered, as Annabelle beamed at them. “You look incredible.” Annabelle was the happiest woman alive, and she could hardly wait for Josiah to see her. And they all wished that her father had been there. Consuelo knew that he would have had a lump in his throat the size of a fist, walking her down the aisle. Annabelle had always been his pride and joy.

The two women helped her down the stairs, carrying her long train. Then one of the maids handed her the enormous bouquet of lily of the valley, and with that, Annabelle, her mother, and Blanche slipped out a side door. Blanche went to warn the ushers that she was coming. The guests were in their places, Josiah and Henry were at the altar, Hortie was beside them, looking like a gigantic pale blue balloon. There had been several gasps when the dowagers of Newport saw her. But everyone also knew that it was an unusual wedding. The groom was nearly twenty years older than the bride, had never been married, and the family had been struck by tragedy barely more than a year before. Some allowances had to be made.

Consuelo stood for a last moment in the side garden, looking lovingly down at her daughter, and then took her in her arms and held her.

“Be happy, my darling… Daddy and I love you so much,” and then, with tears streaming down her face, she rushed to take her place in the front row of chairs that had been set up in the main garden for the wedding service.

All hundred and forty people were there, and as soon as Consuelo took her place, the musicians began playing the Bridal Chorus from Lohengrin, as they had at Hortie’s wedding. The big moment was here. The bride was coming. Consuelo glanced up at Josiah, and he smiled at her. A warm glow passed between them. And more than ever, Consuelo knew that he was the right man. And she was sure that Arthur would have thought so too.

All the wedding guests stood up at a signal from the minister, and all heads turned. The tension was enormous, as slowly and solemnly, the exquisite bride crossed the length of the garden in measured steps, alone. There was no one at her side, no one to lead her there, protect her, or hand her over to the man she was to marry. She was coming to him proudly, and quietly, with total certainty and dignity, on her own. Since there was no one to give her to Josiah, she was giving herself to him, with her mother’s blessing.

There was a sharp intake of breath as they saw her, and the force of the tragedy that had impacted them hit the guests as well as they saw the tiny, lovely bride gliding toward them, with the huge bouquet of lily of the valley in her hands, and her face covered by the veil.

She stood before Josiah and the minister, as Henry and Hortie stepped aside. The bride and groom stood looking at each other through her veil, and he gently took her hand. She had been very brave.

The minister addressed the assembled company, and began the service. When he asked who gave this woman in marriage, her mother responded clearly from the front row, “I do,” and the marriage ceremony went on. At the appointed moment, Josiah lifted her veil ever so gently and looked into her eyes. They said their vows to each other, he slipped the narrow diamond band on her finger, and she a simple gold band on his. They were proclaimed man and wife, kissed, and then, beaming, walked back down the aisle. Tears were streaming unchecked down Consuelo’s face as she watched them, and as her daughter had, she walked back down the aisle alone behind Henry and Hortie, who waddled along happily on Henry’s arm. He had never before seen a woman so extremely pregnant in public, nor had anyone else. But she had decided to enjoy the wedding and was delighted she was there. She quickly found James in the crowd, and Consuelo, Annabelle, and Josiah formed a reception line to greet their guests.

Half an hour later everyone was mingling, talking, and enjoying the champagne. It had been a beautiful, tender, and poignant wedding. Annabelle was looking up at Josiah adoringly as Henry came to kiss her and offer his best wishes, and congratulate the groom.

“Well, you did it,” he chuckled, “you’ve civilized him. They said it couldn’t be done,” he said to Annabelle.

“You’re next,” she teased as she kissed him. “Now we have to find someone for you.” He looked nervous as she said it and pretended to shake in fear.

“I’m not sure I’m ready for that,” he confessed. “I think I’d rather hang out with you, and enjoy the thrills of marriage vicariously. You don’t mind if I tag along, do you?” He was only half-kidding, and Annabelle told him he was welcome anytime. She knew how close he and Josiah were, just as she was with Hortie. There was room in their new life for their old friends.

Annabelle and Josiah greeted all the guests, and then just after nine o’clock it was time to sit down. Annabelle and Consuelo had been meticulous about the seating, making sure that all the most important people in Newport had been deferred to properly. Consuelo was seated with Josiah’s family, and at the bride and groom’s table, they had placed Henry, one of Annabelle’s female friends, James and Hortie, and three other young couples they were fond of. Most of the guests were people they truly wanted there. There were very few guests invited out of obligation, with the exception of a few men from Arthur’s bank, with whom Josiah worked. It seemed only proper to include them.

Josiah shared the first dance with Annabelle, a slow waltz they executed to perfection. It was a song they both loved and had danced to often. Both were proficient dancers, and they looked dazzling on the dance floor. Everyone sighed as they watched them. And then Josiah’s father danced with the bride, and Josiah with Consuelo, and after that the rest of the guests joined them on the floor. It was nearly ten before people started eating the sumptuous repast Consuelo had ordered. They danced between courses, talked, laughed, enjoyed each other, and commented on how good the food was, which was rare at weddings. The newlyweds cut the wedding cake at midnight, danced some more, and the guests didn’t start leaving until two in the morning. The wedding had been a huge success, and as they got into Arthur’s Hispano-Suiza to go to the New Cliff Hotel for the night, Josiah bent to kiss her.

“Thank you for the most beautiful night of my life,” Josiah said, as rice and rose petals began to pelt them, and he gently pushed his bride into the car. They had already thanked her mother profusely for the perfect wedding, and had promised to stop by in the morning, before they drove back to the city to take the train to Wyoming. They had all their luggage packed and ready at the hotel. Annabelle would be wearing a pale blue linen suit when they left the next morning, with a huge straw hat with pale blue flowers on it, and matching blue kid gloves.

They waved at their well-wishers as the car pulled away to take them to the hotel, and for an instant Annabelle wondered what was in store for her. The last thing she saw as they drove away was Hortie’s enormous form as she waved at them. Annabelle laughed, as she waved back and hoped that if she got pregnant, she wouldn’t look like Hortie nine months from now. Henry had been the last one to kiss her and shake Josiah’s hand. The two men had looked each other in the eyes and smiled, as Henry wished them well. He was a good man, Annabelle knew, and more of a brother to Josiah than his own.

They sat in the living room of their suite for a while, she still in her wedding gown and he in his white tie and tails, talking about the wedding, their friends, how beautiful it was, and what an extraordinary job Consuelo had done. The absence of her father and brother had been painful for Annabelle, but even that had been tolerable. She had Josiah now, to lean on, love, and protect her. And he had Annabelle to count on and adore him, for the rest of their lives. They couldn’t ask for more.