//CLARA//
Casimir's eyes hadn't left my face since Gary handed me over. Like he was afraid I'd disappear if he looked away.
I probably would have done the same.
"You're staring," I whispered.
"You're worth staring at."
I felt the heat rise to my cheeks beneath the powder. "Smooth."
The priest cleared his throat gently, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. He looked like the kind of man who had performed a hundred weddings in small chapels like this one, an intimate affairs with no society pages.
"We should begin soon," he said softly. "Before anyone thinks to look for you here."
I nodded. My heart was already racing, and we hadn't even said the vows yet.
Before I could take a breath, Beatrice appeared at my elbow.
She was holding a small bouquet, tied with a simple cream ribbon. They looked like someone had picked them from a field that morning.
