Chapter Fifteen #5
He sounded snappish and Douglass gently squeezed his hand, easing the man’s manner.
Tiberius realized, very quickly, that a soft touch from Douglass doused any fire of rage or frustration he might be feeling.
It was quite surprising, actually. He never realized a woman could have such power over him.
“My intentions are quite honorable,” he said, more calmly. “We are traveling to my home and rather than travel in sin, as two unmarried people, we will do the honorable thing and be married. Will you do this for us?”
The priest didn’t appear convinced. “So you want to marry the woman only so you will not be traveling in sin?”
“I want to marry the woman because I love her.”
That gave the priest pause. “Can this not wait until morning for a proper mass?”
“It must be done now. I am expected home on an urgent matter.”
The priest eyed them both, trying to determine if there was any duress going on with the lady.
Was she being forced? He didn’t get that sense.
In fact, they both seemed quite comfortable with one another.
The Carmelites, a contemplative order, emphasized prayer and service over all else.
There was no vow of poverty as there was with some orders. His focus returned to Tiberius.
“Show me your coin,” he said. “You will make a sizable donation for this service in the dead of night, which is most irregular.”
Tiberius produced several gold coins and gave them to the priest, who seemed satisfied.
The acolytes he had sent away a few moments earlier now returned with a white prayer mantle for the priest, a cup full of wine, and a few other items including sacramental oil.
All of these things were very carefully laid upon the altar except for the mantle, which went over the priest’s shoulders.
After kissing the mantle, the priest pointed to the floor.
“Kneel,” he commanded.
Tiberius and Douglass went to their knees, listening earnestly as the priest began to intone the wedding mass.
It was done rather quickly, and almost routinely, as if there were no true feelings to it, but they nonetheless paid strict attention to what the priest was saying.
Is this really happening? Tiberius thought to himself.
Am I truly marrying her? It seemed unbelievable to him, finally marrying this woman that he’d fought so hard for.
True, he’d only known her a short time but it felt as if he’d known her for years.
Years of fighting for something he very much wanted.
Can you see me, Honey? He offered up prayers to his beloved mother, having been dead these past few months.
I wish with all my heart you were here. Douglass is much like you and I know you would love her. I will make you proud, I swear it.
Thoughts of Honey de Shera faded as the priest offered him the cup of wine to drink from.
He took a heavy drink of the tart, cheap wine and passed it to Douglass, who also took a deep drink.
She smiled at him after she swallowed it and he handed the cup back to the priest. The man took the cup, made the sign of the cross over them, and intoned the final prayers, sealing the marriage.
It was done. Tiberius could hardly believe it.
He helped Douglass to stand and held her hand tightly as the priest signed the book that documented births, deaths, and marriages.
Tiberius knew he was expected to sign also and he felt some trepidation at that, given that his name was nearly the only thing he could sign.
Anything else ended up just a jumble of words in whatever order his brain told him to put them.
The priest eventually handed him the quill and he was able to write his name in the correct order, to his relief.
Now, she truly belonged to him. Tiberius turned to Douglass, smiling at her with all of the joy in his heart. He couldn’t help but wrap his arms around her and squeeze her tightly, feeling her heated response against him, listening to her giggles of happiness.
“Let me be the first to address you as Lady Tiberius de Shera,” he murmured. Pulling back, he kissed her sweetly, feeling his blood instantly flame. The woman had that effect on him. “Now, we should find a place to rest for a few hours before continuing on. I would assume you are weary.”
Douglass put her hands on his face, gazing into his eyes. “I am hungry more than anything,” she said, her thumbs stroking his cheeks. “Mayhap we can find a place to eat?”
He kissed her thumbs as they came close to his mouth. “Anything for you, Lady de Shera,” he said. “I shall find the finest inn in all of London and feed you a meal fit for a queen.”
Douglass laughed softly. “I would settle for bread and cheese and wine at the moment,” she said. “Any meal is the finest in all of London as long as you are sharing it with me, my husband.”
My husband. Tiberius had never heard such sweet words. He never imagined he would even like them, but he found that he did. He loved them. Kissing her yet again, he led her out of the dark, smelly church and into the moonlit night beyond, in search of a meal fit for newlyweds.