When they arrived at the chapel, Jasmine waited for Patricia and Simon to disembark from the carriage, then herself exited. The chapel was fine enough for a private one, though it was not as awe-inducing as the one the royal family attended.
Everyone filed inside. Jasmine and Patricia were summoned to the front to stand by the Countess. The Countess was regal, in a light blue gown. Not a single stitch of black cloth was in sight, which uplifted Jasmine's spirits. Perhaps having Brook was allowing the Countess to finally leave her mourning period. Jasmine gave Brook to the Countess and picked up Bry. Her heart was in her throat as she stood before an audience to baptize a child not truly hers, though she might as well be.
The baptism itself went smoothly, aside from one hiccup. Jasmine had forgotten she would be asked for Bry's full name. In a panic, she said the first names she could think of, and the former rebel and would-be rapist was baptized as Bry Anne Smith. Part of Jasmine was convinced that her panic and emerging, though difficult to see red roots would blow her cover. Luckily, no one batted an eye. They must have assumed she was tongue-tied from nerves. Any peasant girl in a noblewoman's private chapel and fine clothes would be.
When the baptism ended, Jasmine hung back while everyone else left. She needed to speak to the Countess, and it seemed like the Countess wished to speak to her as well.
"My lady," Jasmine said, curtseying as the Countess approached her.
"Jasmine, dear girl, I have most excellent news," the Countess enthused.
"What news have you?"
"You are now betrothed!" the Countess said happily. Jasmine's mouth dropped open in a very unrefined way. "Yes, this must be quite a shock, but please, behave more mannered."
"Yes, my lady," Jasmine mumbled, adopting a more demure pose and expression.
"Much better. Your child is a girl, so cannot inherit anything. If she had been a boy, it may have been more difficult to find a man willing to raise another person's child. Luckily, because you have a daughter, not a son, I was able to find a rich, handsome nobleman willing to wed you and be the new father of Bry." The Countess leaned in, her eyes twinkling. "Best of all, he is your own age."
"My lady, that- that is truly remarkable," Jasmine stammered, her thoughts disjointed and chaotic. "But what is this about a betrothal? I do not even know his name!"
"He agreed to wed you, but only if he could see you in person. He was actually here, at the baptism! The second he laid eyes on you in that dress, made up like a princess, he told me he intended to propose to you. I accepted on your behalf."
"...Thank you, my lady," Jasmine whispered. She knew better than to protest about being betrothed by someone else. Such was the lot of women. Any peasant girl would be thrilled to have a noblewoman accept a betrothal on her behalf. "Where is he?"
"He has gone to get the ring for you, so you can proudly display your new status as betrothed." The Countess put her hand over her heart. Clearly, she thought it the peak of romance. "I told him of your debt and duty to the Muscat family. He agreed that you may stay here to tend to Pyotr until your debt is repaid. You may even stay until Pyotr is weaned. He says it will give him plenty of time to plan the wedding."
"What of Brook? How will she fare without me?"
"I will be able to find a new wet nurse for my granddaughter with no trouble, dear girl. Though I will miss you, and doubt I find a wet nurse as productive and endowed as you." The Countess looked behind Jasmine. "Oh! Here he is! Your future husband!"
Jasmine slowly turned. From the moment she accepted the Countess's matchmaking offer, she wondered if she would be matched with someone she had heard of, or even known. Her fears were realized when she saw the man before her. She was very familiar with this man, back when she was Prince Jasper.
Her betrothed was...