Chapter Twenty-Nine: The Wedding

Chapter Twenty-Nine



The small backroom of the St. Louis Cathedral was crowded with women flocking around Crystal, who stood on a short stool in the center of the room. Elizabeth, Dawn and Christy stared in awe as Liza and three other maids lowered the satin wedding dress over Crystal’s head and adjusted the cool fabric around the dozens of petticoats she wore. Crystal couldn’t return the smiles they gave her, and instead glanced at her mother who was standing in the far corner of the room studying her critically. After a long moment, Mrs. de la Chaise nodded and began instructing Liza on the positioning of the floor length gauze veil around the white roses that were pinned in Crystal’s hair.

“Oh, Crystal, you look stunning!” Elizabeth exclaimed stepping closer and fingering the top organdy skirt. “Charles won’t be able to take his eyes off of you.”

“Thank you,” Crystal murmured and bowed her head, hoping Elizabeth would take her unease for embarrassment. The thought of Charles staring at her for hours had her stomach churning. What if he saw her guilt, would he know what she’d done? How she’d betrayed him?

There was a soft tap on the door of the windowless room and they all glanced up to see Eleanor de Marginy poking her head in the room.

“May I come in?” she asked her eyes crinkling as she smiled.

Crystal smiled back at her soon-to-be mother-in-law and realized it was the first genuine expression she’d worn all day. “Of course you may, Mrs. de Marginy. I trust you’re well this fine morning?”

Eleanor glided forward and, even though she wore all black, lit up the room with her presence. “I’m much better than well, darling. I’ve been waiting for this day for years now and I just know that Pierre is grinning right now.” She blinked rapidly, her eyes shining, and scanned Crystal’s dress. “Queen Victoria herself could not have looked so beautiful on her own wedding day.”

Crystal blushed at the exaggerated compliment. “Thank you, Mrs. de Marginy. I hope that Charles thinks so as well.”

Eleanor laughed, a quiet tinkling sound. “I’m certain he will. He adores you, Crystal, you’ve made him so very happy. I’m so grateful for that.”

Eleanor’s words were like a knife in Crystal’s gut. How could she lie to this woman that she’d grown to love? How could she deceive her like this?

Eleanor took a few steps closer and studied the delicate stitching in Crystal’s bodice. She smiled again as if she’d had a pleasant thought; when she looked up her eyes were glowing.

“I’ve been dreaming of grandchildren,” she whispered a little sadly. “I’d always hoped to share the joy of them with Pierre, but I suppose that’s not to be.”

Crystal bit her lip to keep her tears at bay and simply nodded. The sadness in Eleanor’s eyes was haunting and Crystal couldn’t deal with anyone else’s pain right now. The mention of grandchildren had her thinking of her wedding night and she felt her blush deepen. Eleanor gave Crystal’s hand a squeeze and turned to greet Mrs. de la Chaise, leaving Crystal to dwell in her thoughts.

She felt like she was playing a part, masquerading as a gentle maiden, something she no longer– Crystal caught her breath. I’m no longer a maiden! Her eyes shot across the room to Liza who was kneeling at her feet ruffling Crystal’s skirts, and as if she could sense Crystal’s gaze, the maid looked up.

“What is it, child?” Liza asked quietly so as not to draw attention.

“I’m not– Liza, I’m not–”

Liza stood and began helping another maid pin in Crystal’s vial. “Not what, punkin? Spit it out.”

Crystal’s voice lowered to barely a whisper. “I’m not a maiden anymore. Oh, Liza, what will I do?”

Liza looked thoughtful for a long moment, then she smiled. “Don’ you worry, child,” she whispered. “Liza knows jus’ what to do.”

“Really?” Crystal asked, too afraid to be relieved.

Liza nodded. “I’s jus’ gonna have to figure out how to get it.”

“What do you have to get?”

“Liza, pay attention to what you’re doing,” Mother snapped from behind them. Liza stepped back and let Mrs. de la Chaise attach the vial to her liking and Crystal didn’t find another chance to speak to Liza without being overheard.



*******



The tolling of the bells of the St. Louis Cathedral echoed hauntingly inside the crowded church, resounding through the galleries and reverberating off the domed ceiling. As the last peal died, the low tenor of an organ lifted up to take its place. A hush settled over the pews and there was a quiet shuffle as everyone stood and faced the back of the building. All eyes and necks strained to catch the first glimpse of the wedding procession, and there were quiet giggles– that were quickly silenced by mothers– as the first bridesmaid and groomsman, Crystal’s younger sister, Dawn, and her gawky red-headed cousin, proceeded down the aisle to stand by the priest near the alter.

Next came June Allian and William Dreaux, both looking equally uncomfortable with each others company as they attempted to coordinate their steps across the stone floor.

Finally the sight they’d all been waiting for appeared in front of the double doors: on the arm of Charles de Mandeville, Crystal de la Chaise was a vision in white. Her rich chocolate hair piled elegantly on her head and covered by a waist-length veil of silk netting; the sheer material hid her downcast eyes from view. Her satin gown gave her the appearance of floating, the many skirts billowing around her like a cloud. Beside her, Mandeville wore a look of triumph, as if he’d won a grand prize, and there was no doubt that he had.

The bride and groom came to a halt before the elegantly robed priest and, together, sank to their knees. The organ faded, and in a rustle of movement all the guests returned to their seats. There was a long pause, the only sound was the soft whisper of pages as the priest searched for his place in the Holy Book.

With a soft clearing of his throat the clergyman began the ceremony, his voice surprisingly clear in the giant church. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God, and in the face of this company, to join together this man and this woman in holy matrimony. . . .”

Together the crowded church held its breath as the ceremony played out. Sighs of envy were heard as Charles said his vows, his deep voice floating up to the ceiling. No one questioned the tremor of the bride’s words as she repeated the vows.

“I Crystal,” she began in a whisper that had the congregation leaning forwards. There was a long pause and few noticed the desperate way the bride scanned the room. Finally, just as the silence became awkward, Crystal continued: “take thee, Charles, to be my wedded husband, to have and to hold . . . from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part and thereto I plight thee my troth.”

Two gold bands were produce from the groomsman and the bridesmaid, and the rings were exchanged followed by the their last binding statement: “With this ring, I thee wed.”

The priest solemnly pronounced them husband and wife and quiet sniffles fluttered from the pews as Mandeville lifted Crystal’s filmy veil and revealed her tear stained face. She smiled, and no one noticed that the expression was almost painful, not even Charles, who bent to place a serene kiss on her quivering lips.

The guests rose and there was generous enough applause to drown out the moan of agony that erupted from the balcony. Only Crystal’s eyes lifted, searching the dark galleries above them as Charles pulled her to her feet, but she quickly looked away as her parents and mother-in-law approached to congratulate them.

Crystal never noticed Joseph concealed behind a stone pillar above the celebration, hidden in the deep shadows. Neither did she ever know that he climbed to the bell tower to watch exit the cathedral on the arm of the man he envied and hated most in the world. And she would never guess that his heart ripped from his body as she rode away in the de Mandeville carriage, or that he contemplated throwing himself to the earth below in hopes that it would ease the pain in his hollow chest.



*******

The newspapers later read that it was the most dazzling wedding New Orleans had seen in decades. The bride was exquisite and demure, the groom proud and beaming. No reception could compare to the brilliant ball that was held at the couples’ new home on St. Phillip Street; the dancing, the dinner, everything was elaborate, everyone sparkled with merriment and for days afterward it was all the city could talk about. To miss such a grand event was a cause for pity, and to not have been invited was a sign of fallen prestige in aristocracy.

After hours of festivities the bride retired to her bedchamber accompanied by her maid. Thirty minutes later, and with a final toast to marital bliss, Charles followed, leaving the few gentlemen that remained to sleep off their champagne where they would.

As dawn broke the horizon Crystal climbed from her marriage bed and discarded the small busted pig’s intestine that had been filled with blood hours ago. That blood was now sticky between her thighs and stained the white sheets on the mattress.

Quietly she washed herself, her ears alert to any changes in Charles deep breathing. Once she was clean and dressed she walked to the window and for the first time looked out from her new home in the heart of New Orleans. She could hear the steamers docked at the river a few blocks away and thought of Charles insistence that they sail to Paris for their honeymoon. Before Papa Marginy’s death there had been no talk of a honeymoon at all, but Charles explained that he wished to visit his relatives in France. The thought of crossing the ocean again was not something Crystal looked forwards to, memories of seasickness from her trips to the Paris boarding school she’d attended with Elizabeth had her stomach rolling. Nevertheless, she was happy they were leaving for a while. New Orleans held too much pain, too many shadows watching her.

Too many memories of Joseph.

*******

"Chapter Thirty: Murder"