Part 1. London

It was the wedding day of Miss Elizabeth Dyer and Mr. Edward Morton.

The couple’s marriage had been a topic of interest for many since their engagement.

Miss Elizabeth was the only daughter of Viscount Dyer, active in parliament, and Mr. Edward was the eldest son of Admiral Morton, who had served in dozens of naval battles over the past 30 years.

The union of these two distinguished families was one of the finest marriages in London’s high society.

Even the nobles of London, who loved to gossip and were equally passionate about slandering others, couldn’t find much fault with the birth of this couple.

The nobles only talked about whose design Elizabeth’s dress was and what type of wood would be used for the furniture in the mansion Morton had prepared for his new bride.

On the wedding day, splendid two-wheeled carriages and fine horses carrying people flocked to the church.

The array of guests was overwhelming. It was a gathering of notable nobles, politicians, and military personnel.

Once all the prestigious guests had taken their seats, Reverend Royce, who would officiate today’s wedding, stood at the altar in his white vestments.

The hall fell silent, without even the slightest whisper.

Reverend Royce swept his gaze across the hall.

After a few words of sermon, briefly paying respects to God who would be watching over today’s union, he promptly had the groom enter.

The groom, Edward Morton, appeared at the entrance.

He walked in with the neat and disciplined gait befitting a soldier.

Following in his father’s footsteps to become a naval officer, he had been dispatched to remote areas beyond his father’s influence, successfully leading several naval battles and becoming a captain at the young age of twenty-nine.

However, what made him famous in London was not his military achievements or family influence, but his unique demeanor.

An extremely taciturn and cold expression. A reticent and aloof attitude.

He maintained this appearance, suitable for commanding a fleet, even when walking through Hyde Park to go to church, being introduced to ladies at balls, or being invited to ducal dinners and other social events.

Because of this attitude, many who cared for Edward had to go to great lengths to let others know that he meant no ill will by acting this way.

Even on his wedding day, Edward maintained his usual expression.

Tightly closed lips and blue eyes devoid of any emotion.

There was no sign of joy, not even tension.

People inwardly clicked their tongues. Really, how extreme, how extreme.

Soon, the attention focused on the groom shifted to another place.

The entrance of the venue.

Miss Elizabeth Dyer, wearing a snow-white dress and draped in a transparent shawl.

She was arm in arm with Viscount Dyer beside her, holding a bouquet in one hand.

That bouquet was the freshest and most beautiful among the thousands of flowers decorating the venue, but it was no match for the beauty of Miss Dyer herself.

Miss Dyer had been attracting numerous admirers since her debut in society two years ago, but today she was different from usual.

It wasn’t just because of the beauty pouring from her stunning features, blonde hair, and beautiful olive-green eyes.

Her entire expression was radiantly shining. It was the full bloom of love.

As she took each step down the wedding aisle, people’s captivated gazes followed her.

At that moment, even the much-talked-about French dress and the Italian wedding veil that the viscount had specially procured were forgotten.

It was all about Miss Dyer’s steps, Miss Dyer’s expression, Miss Dyer’s smile.

People held their breath, following her every movement.

Finally, she stood next to the man who would soon be her husband in front of the altar.

The viscount handed over his precious daughter to him and stepped back.

The two at the altar. One was smiling radiantly, but the other remained as cold as ice.

A sense of pity spontaneously welled up in people’s hearts.

Edward Morton, that man, was showing no joy at all despite obtaining such a beautiful wife.

The eligible bachelors felt unreasonably wronged.

The reverend gave a short and clear sermon about the faithfulness and chastity of wife and husband.

As the parish priest of London, he knew how much the guests present here disliked long sermons.

Soon after, the couple exchanged rings, and Reverend Royce permitted them to kiss.

Edward slowly lowered his head and lightly pressed his lips to Elizabeth’s.

But, just as applause was about to erupt, those sitting close to the altar inhaled softly.

They immediately looked at the person next to them to confirm what they had seen, and saw the same surprise on their neighbor’s face.

The moment Edward’s lips parted from Elizabeth’s, a single tear fell from his eye.

Good heavens.

He quickly wiped his face with his hand to erase the evidence, but this made even those sitting far away who hadn’t seen his tear realize that he had shed one.

Those who had seen his tear with their own eyes were elated at the thought of boasting about having directly witnessed Edward Morton’s tear, which would be a topic of conversation at tea parties for a while, and gave thunderous applause to the couple walking down the wedding aisle.

After the wedding ceremony, the guests moved to the reception venue near the church.

There, a reception worthy of not disappointing the guests was prepared.

Silver cutlery and Indian plates set on many tables, mountains of buffet food and wine fountains prepared by chefs brought, no, invited from France. And an orchestra rivaling any decent opera company.

It was the result of Viscount Dyer, who usually maintained a frugal lifestyle compared to his status, madly spending his hoarded pounds.

While the guests enjoyed their meals at their respective tables, the Morton couple, changed into a reception dress and a bright-colored suit, appeared at the reception venue and went around the tables expressing their gratitude to each of the main figures who had come to their wedding.

From the party members affiliated with Viscount Dyer to Admiral Morton’s military colleagues, they had to fly around dozens of tables.

But Elizabeth, without showing any sign of fatigue, greeted people with a smiling face, her lilac dress fluttering.

The bride, who had overwhelmed the audience with her beauty at the wedding venue, now gave them a lovely smile, and people couldn’t help but feel good.

However, unlike other guests, the senior officers who were friends of Admiral Morton were rough, talkative, and heavily intoxicated with wine.

They held the newlyweds for over 20 minutes with drunken talk that went beyond well-wishes.

Elizabeth, who had been listening to this drunken talk with a gentle expression, gripped her husband’s arm, which she had been holding, with almost pinching force.

Edward Morton slightly tilted his head towards Elizabeth, trying not to show it, and Elizabeth, maintaining her smiling face, whispered softly so that only her husband could hear.

“Darling, if we don’t get away from this table right now, I’m going to throw these respectable gentlemen into the wine fountain.”

Edward Morton nodded slightly.

And he casually mentioned to the officers the location of the smoking room inside the building and the expensive cigars in the drawers of the tables there.

Of course, the finest brandy and sherry would also be prepared there.

They headed to the smoking room, abandoning even their wives beside them, and the ladies, whose faces had reddened due to their husbands’ drunken behavior, quickly sent the young couple away.

Elizabeth plopped down in an empty spot away from people.

Her complexion had turned pale, incomparable to how she looked at the wedding venue.

Edward immediately went to the buffet table and returned with a slice of cake and a cup of coffee.

He handed her the coffee cup and then fed her the cake, one piece at a time, with a fork.

Elizabeth obediently ate the cake.

Until the entire slice on the plate was gone.

People who saw this from afar doubted their eyes.

My goodness, Edward Morton is mothering his wife!

After Elizabeth finished the plate, he knelt down on one knee in front of her and began massaging her swollen calves over her skirt.

Elizabeth looked around with a reddened face and then grabbed his hand.

“Stop. I’m fine now.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

He let go of her leg. And he firmly held his wife’s hand on his knee.

“You can relax now. We’ve properly greeted most of the people we needed to.”

“That’s a relief. I’m so tired. More than when we danced the quadrille until dawn and went home.”

Edward fiddled with Elizabeth’s hand wearing the wedding ring and then smiled faintly.

“Ah, I’m worried you might fall into my arms again like this.”

Elizabeth opened her eyes wide.

“What?”

“You remember the day we first met, don’t you? On the stairs of the ballroom hosted by Mrs. Jensen. When you missed your step and fell into my arms.”

Elizabeth went “Ah,” and then laughed.

“It was more like a collision than falling. A very hard one.”

“Yes. Very hard. So hard that you had a nosebleed right away. Gushing enough to turn my white shirt blood-red. I thought you might faint and was about to call for a doctor, but you just stuffed cotton in your nose and continued to enjoy the ball.”

Elizabeth chuckled.

“How could I just leave when my favorite song was playing? Besides, my dress was maple-colored, so it didn’t show much. But why did you leave so quickly that day? I thought for sure you would ask me to dance.”

“I couldn’t stay in that shirt. Someone might have thought I’d been shot. And I also thought you might be embarrassed to see me. Of course, you weren’t embarrassed at all.”

Elizabeth grinned. As if it were obvious.

Seeing his wife’s smile, Edward found himself smiling too.

Anyone who knew Edward would know how difficult it was to draw a smile from him.

Elizabeth was one of the few people who could make him smile.

“Still, don’t think I wasn’t embarrassed at all. When I met you afterwards, you looked at me so coldly that I felt so intimidated. I thought you were angry.”

“Is that why you left so quickly?”

“The food wouldn’t even go down my throat properly. You looked at me so coldly with those blue eyes of yours. With a look that said, ‘You reckless girl. Can you even swallow your food?'”

“Hmm, I look at my mother and grandmother that way too.”

“If you happen to have an audience with Her Majesty the Queen, will you look at her that way too?”

“Probably?”

“Then please don’t make eye contact with Her Majesty. If she keeps looking at you, she won’t live long.”

Edward chuckled and stroked Elizabeth’s chin with his fingertip.

“It’s a miracle that you accepted my proposal after all that.”

“I too, if someone had told me three months ago that I would become Mrs. Morton, I wouldn’t have believed it. Even if it was Laura unni… Ah!”

Elizabeth suddenly stood up as if remembering something.

“Laura unni! I haven’t seen Laura unni today! Oh my, how could I forget unni!”

Edward stood up with her and asked.

“You mean Miss Pendleton?”

“Yes! Darling, Edward, please find Laura unni quickly! If I don’t meet her today, I won’t see her until after the honeymoon!”