Izolda held up her hand, admiring the gold band on her finger. On the wagon seat beside her, Nikolai was a solid presence, filling her with optimism for the days ahead.
Everything had gone as planned, better even, than she expected. Nikolai had come to the room at the inn, expecting to see Katrinka. Though he was not surprised, or displeased to see Izolda, his shock at her news froze him in place long enough for her to embrace him, transferring the dust for her spell to work onto his skin.
She planned on allowing him time to mourn, while at the same time encouraging the revival of his affection for her. Things were different in this new land. An extended period of mourning was unnecessary. It surprised her to learn that Nikolai had only told his friends that he was going to fetch his wife, he’d told them nothing about her ahead of time. She could not believe her good fortune – it would be easy to slip into the role of fiancée.
But once again, Nikolai surprised her. As an unattached female, it would be unseemly for her to travel with him without a chaperone, so he gave her a choice. He had come for a wife, and he intended to return with a wife. She could take Katrinka’s place, or he would pay for her passage back to Russia.
While she had convinced herself that Katrinka had not been the right woman for Nikolai, from the way the girl had carried on she had assumed there was a great bond of affection between them, if not love. She had never considered the affection was one sided. Would this make things easier, or more difficult for her? She had no idea.
She had not needed to feign her surprise at his ultimatum. Either the spell she had begun weaving over him in Russia was stronger than she realized, or he cared for no-one, wanting only the status of being married. Her resolve hardened. Perhaps he might not care for her in that way yet, but by the time they reached the place where they would make their life together, he would.
And so they were married in the chapel that had been pre-arranged by Nikolai for him and Katrinka. Katrinka, Izolda knew, would not have liked the dark, tiny chapel that smelled of the sea. She would have demanded a church, and the opportunity to wear her finery. And she would have expected a fine dinner afterwards.
Izolda and Nikolai had a pleasant enough meal in a café near the harbour, but Izolda couldn’t have cared less. She had what she wanted, marriage to Nikolai. Now she had the rest of her life to turn him into the man she knew he could be.
“I have a confession to make,” he told her, facing the trail again.
“So soon? The ink is hardly dry on our wedding papers,” she teased.
He smiled faintly. “It is something I was going to tell Katrinka,” he said heavily.
“Oh,” Izolda’s mind raced. Why would he feel the need to tell her something that was meat to be shared with Katrinka?
“I was going to try and talk her out of this marriage. That’s why I was so relieved when she wrote that you were coming with her – you could be our chaperone.”
He went on in a rush. “I was sure there would be someone in the town that would be more suited to her. She was unused to hard work, and she was somewhat . . . frivolous. She would have driven me mad, had we married. But it had been arranged.” He sighed, and his shoulders slumped. “You must think me a terrible person.”
“No, I—no,” Izolda said, stunned at his confession. “But . . . why marry me, then? You were under no obligation to do so.”
“From the first moment we met, I felt drawn to you. I knew you would be the kind of wife I dreamed of. You are strong, and capable. You would work alongside of your man. And you are beautiful,” he added.
“I cannot believe this,” Izolda whispered.
“I know I should be mourning Katrinka, but I barely knew her. You, I feel I have known you always.”
“We are going to have a wonderful life together,” Izolda prophesized.
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