Who knew? I am writing a wedding at the moment, and I wondered whether brides carried a bridal bouquet in the Regency. They did, but not as we know it. The fashion for carrying only flowers began after the Regency. The original bridal bouquet comprised herbs – especially smelly herbs, or herbs that were considered to have a beneficial impact on the married couple. Garlic, dill, thistles, and ivy, anyone?

Dill was particularly important at a wedding. It was considered to – let us say – heat the humours. Particularly useful on the wedding night; both bride and groom ate the dill from the bouquet at the wedding breakfast.

By the Regency, garden flowers were being poked into the bouquet among the herbs, and in Victorian times, they (mostly) dropped the herbs.

***

Here’s my wedding, or, rather, Arial’s and Peter’s.

This was an evening of firsts for Arial. Dressing with the help of her new sisters. Examining her own reflection in the mirror and being pleased with what she saw. Making her appearance at the top of the stairs and seeing awe and admiration in the eyes of Peter and his friend, Captain Forsythe. And a darker emotion on the faces of the Weatherall ladies, but one she’d never expected to attract.

Perhaps it was bad of her, but their jealousy pleased rather than bothered her. If anyone had told her a week ago that she would look good enough to cause a petty-minded Society beauty to regard her with envy, she would not have believed them.

She smiled at them as she walked slowly past them on her way to where Peter stood before the vicar. They had come prepared to bestow pity, of course. How disappointed they must be.

With them behind her, she put them out of her mind. This was her evening, and she would not allow the Weatheralls to spoil it for her.

Her heart warmed and a lump came to her throat as Peter stepped to one side and held his hand out for her. His left hand. Her sighted side. She handed her wedding bouquet—made for her by her new sisters with herbs and flowers from the market—to Angelica, and gave her right hand to Peter.

Another first. Her wedding. She had been damaged too young to have begun to dream of one, and had been too realistic to allow such dreams to take root as she became a woman. And since Mr Richards had proposed his scheme, she had been focused on selecting a candidate and on reaching an agreement that gave her the best chance of a reasonable life. The wedding had not been a consideration.

But here she was. Exchanging smiles with the most beautiful man she had ever seen, and about to join her life to his forever.

“Who giveth this woman to be married to this man?” asked the vicar.

“I give myself,” Arial declared, and Peter’s grip firmed as his smile widened.

Miss Weatherall whispered loudly, “Is that even legal?” and Captain Forsythe shushed her.

The vicar looked a little disconcerted for a moment, and then nodded