A March Bride (A Year of Weddings 1 #4)(8)
“Okay, okay, maybe I kind of knew that when I moved here.” She twisted her hands together. “But now you’re putting skin on it. Giving it eyes and ears . . . and a little beanie cap on its newborn head.”
“Sweetheart”—he reached for her, smiling—“remember what you told me that day on the grounds of Christ Church? We’d only known each other for a few days, but you so wisely said I was born for a purpose, to have influence in ways most people only dream about. You said of yourself, ‘I’m Susanna Truitt, born on St. Simons, for some purpose. I’m not an accident.’ Don’t let this writ get in the way of what God is doing. With you. With us. The only way my opponents win is if we let this writ come between us.”
“So it’s done? No way to stop them? At all?” She tempered her voice and Nathaniel detected a small sprinkle of hope.
“What do you think I’ve been doing the past two months?”
“That’s why you’ve been distant? Distracted? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because you had enough on your docket, love. If I succeeded, then no harm. If they succeeded, then I’d tell you. That’s why Henry pulled me aside at the garden party. The writ was ratified late last night.” He regarded her for a moment, waiting for some kind of reaction, his own small fears blipping over the plains of his heart. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t you have to sign all the laws?”
“Indeed, but this writ is under the parliamentary jurisdiction on a law I already signed.”
Listening to his own explanation, he felt his heart begin to crumble. Why in the world would any woman give up her freedom and privacy to marry him?
His past romantic rejection ghosted through his thoughts. Lady Adel Gardner’s humiliating public refusal ten years ago of Nathaniel’s very public proposal during his father’s birthday party found a fresh breath every now and then, and taunted him.
“Good heavens, no!” she said into a microphone. “If I marry you, my life will never be my own!”
Yeah, he’d walked into that one deaf, dumb, blind, and stupid. Not long graduated from university, he was fumbling to find the “next phase” of his life. So why not marry the lovely and fun Adel?
But she rang the death knell on that plan. And Nathaniel swore off romance afterward, eager to avoid repeating the mistake with another woman. Then he met Susanna under Lovers’ Oak and all his fears vanished.
“Then it is done. I have no say. If I marry you, I cannot be an American citizen.”
“Actually, before you marry me, you cannot be an American citizen. Otherwise, I’m in default of the law.”
“You’re the king. You can’t be arrested or tried.”
So, she’d studied much of their laws. “No, but it will fire up my political opponents. And yours.” His heart burned in his chest.
“I have to take the Brighton citizenship oath before our wedding?” She bristled, the light in her eyes laser-thin, her lips drawn and tight. “As if I didn’t have enough to do. I wasn’t planning on taking it until this summer.”
“We just have to bump it up, is all. Is it all that much of an inconvenience, love?”
“Yes, it is.” They stood inches from one another, but were miles apart. “You fought for me? Tell me you did.”
“I fought for you, for our children and their children. But I must admit I see the wisdom of the writ. Not that I doubt your loyalties, but for future generations. It just seems wise that the ruling monarch be married to someone who doesn’t have loyalties to another nation. I understand the limitations of the human heart. One can only be pushed so far.”
“Nathaniel, just because I give up my American citizenship doesn’t mean I no longer love my country. Doesn’t mean I couldn’t turn into a traitor. Not that I would, mind you.” She backed away, turning into the room. “I don’t know what to say. I’ve moved to a new country, spent nearly ten months learning your culture and traditions, the social strata, not to mention the royal life.”
“And you’ve done splendidly, Suz. Marrying me is no ordinary melding of two lives.”
“Two lives?” Susanna whirled back around. “There’s no two here. Only one life. Mine. I’m the one who was required to do all the changing. I have to fit into your life. And gladly, Nathaniel. I love you. But this writ is making me deny the one last thing I have of myself, of what’s wholly mine, of what I bring to this marriage as an American. It’s as if those in Parliament want to crush me. I’m sorry, but it just seems to fly in the face of why you petitioned Parliament for the Marriage Act amendment in the first place.”
“Exactly my argument when I debated the writ sponsors. But surely you see their reason. The wife of the sovereign must be true to her country in word if not in deed. Yes, you can remain American in your heart, but to the world you are solely Brightonian.”
“This is insulting.” She paced around the room. “They all but accuse me of being a spy or committing treason.”
“No, Susanna, sweetheart, they are really trying to prevent me from expanding my authority by having ties to America. This is more about me than you.” He cut her off as she rounded the room again, gently slipping his arm about her waist. “We’re a small North Sea nation with rich resources. We’ve been threatened in the past. We are well aware it could happen again. Especially on the world’s current stage. While we value and treasure our allies, especially America, members of the royal house must be devoted and committed to Brighton alone. My own loyalty cannot be compromised because of my wife’s nationality. Love, I reasoned at length with the new prime minister, with the leaders of the House of Senators and the House of Commons, trying to win a way for you to be both American and Brightonian, but they passed the citizenship requirement.”