The grand carriage carrying Delaney slowed to a gentle halt. The wheels stopped turning on the cobblestone street. Outside the small glass window, the large, gray stone building of St. George's Chapel stood tall and proud in the bright morning sunlight.
Delaney sat inside the carriage. Her white-gloved hands were resting on her lap. She was holding a beautiful, simple bouquet of white roses. Her hands were shaking just a tiny bit. She took a deep breath, trying to calm the rapid beating of her heart.
Aunt Renee reached across the carriage seat. She gently placed her warm hand over Delaney's shaking fingers.
"We are here, my dear," Aunt Renee said softly. Her voice was calm and deeply comforting.
A uniformed footman stepped forward and opened the door of the carriage. He lowered the small metal steps. He bowed his head respectfully and offered his hand.
