Chapter Seven #2
Then she arrived at his side. “You make an exceptional picture, Evvie.”
“Too bad you aren’t a painter,” she whispered back. She rested a hand on his sleeve, and he swore her touch burned through the fabric of his clothing. Her sweet, floral scent teased his nose with every movement. “But you are quite distinguished this morning.”
“Bah. It is only due to my valet’s efforts.
I care not for how I look.” Why did he feel at sixes and sevens just now?
This union wasn’t meant to be permanent, and he definitely wasn’t searching for romance.
Perhaps it was merely the oddness of the day.
When he glanced toward his guests, Steppingford raised an eyebrow in challenge.
Damn your eyes. This is your fault.
The clergyman gave a slight cough. “Let us begin the ceremony, shall we?” He included them both in his gaze.
“Please face me.” When they did, he opened his book to the appropriate page.
“Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God, and in the face of these witnesses, to join together this Man and this Woman in holy Matrimony; which is an honorable estate, instituted of God in the time of man’s innocency, signifying unto us the mystical union that is betwixt Christ and his Church… ”
Dear God, this is truly happening.
Michael couldn’t concentrate on the vicar’s words for the whole of his focus rested upon the woman at his side—his soon-to-be wife.
Why the deuce was he doing this? There was no need to wed her, and once he told her—showed her—what sort of man that he truly was, she would either hate him or run from him.
This was pure madness in every conceivable way, yet deep down, he suspected he wanted to belong to someone.
“Don’t fret, Your Grace,” she whispered while she turned her head and met his gaze with a soft smile. Then she leaned closer. “If you wish to back out, I won’t protest.”
Of course she wouldn’t, but if he lost her now, he would also lose access to the viscount. “I do not.” Then he gave his attention to the clergyman.
The older man continued, his voice a pleasing timbre as he talked about the holy state they were about to embark upon.
The black leather spine of his prayer book was cracked and worn.
“Wilt thou have this Woman to thy wedded Wife, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony?
” His lips curved with a smile, as if he already knew what the answer would be.
“Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honor her, and keep her in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?”
The words burst upon his brain and rang with the force of church bells.
It was quite a sobering thought that he would be responsible for this woman in every conceivable way.
“I… uh….” A glance to Averly, who’d apparently arrived late.
His union had begun with challenges, but he’d overcome them.
He peered at Evangeline and gave her a tight grin while concern lined her face. “I will.”
“Ah, for a moment there, I thought we’d have a runner,” Mr. Hearthstone said.
Chuckles circled through the gathered guests.
Then the clergyman addressed Evangeline.
“Wilt thou have this Man to thy wedded Husband, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony?
Wilt thou obey him, and serve him, love him, honor him, and keep him in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live? ”
“Those are strong commands that tend to feel like shackles. As I have cause to know already.” Evangeline frowned at Michael, peered up at him for the space of a few heartbeats as if assessing him.
Finally, she nodded. “However, I am willing to risk possible challenges again in the hopes of courting a different outcome.”
“Though there is much work to be done between you, I have faith the pair of you will come out right as rain.” Mr. Hearthstone instructed Michael to take her right hand in his right—if he could—which he then did, and Evangeline’s hand shook.
Was she nervous or excited? Perhaps worried, just as he was. “Your Grace, please repeat after me…”
With solicitous attention, Michael memorized the handful of words and then uttered them aloud, but at the back of his mind, he wondered what sort of husband he would prove.
“I, Michael Charles Banshire, Duke of Darkemore, take thee Lady Evangeline Sarah Farnswood, as my wedded Wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until death us do part…” His throat tightened as he spoke those most sacred words that would forever bind him with her.
Dear God, please don’t let me destroy her because I’m broken.
“… according to God’s holy ordinance; and thereto I plight thee my troth. ”
The clergyman nodded. “Please release hands. Your Grace, take her left in yours.” Once they’d done as instructed, he trained his attention on Evangeline. “Lady Evangeline, repeat after me.” He gave her the words, much like the ones he’d said to Michael moments before.
The delicate tendons in her neck moved with a heavy swallow.
Did she believe that he would treat her as Marklesfield had?
Her hand trembled, her gaze was steady albeit shadowed as she looked up at him.
“I, Lady Evangeline Sarah Farnswood take thee Michael Charles Banshire, Duke of Darkemore as my wedded Husband.” Her voice broke on the last word.
A sheen of tears made her eyes luminous, and he could just imagine how difficult those words were to say, but he squeezed her fingers and she continued.
“To have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, cherish, and to obey, ‘until death us do part, according to God’s holy ordinance.” A tear fell to her cheek.
“And thereto I give thee my troth.” She clutched at his hand.
“I will always be there for you, Michael, if nothing else than to sit with you in the darkness and remind you that you aren’t alone. ”
Mr. Hearthstone nodded. Lines framed his eyes and mouth. “Please release your hands.” To Michael, he whispered, “Now is the time to offer up a ring and any respects you might have for my services.”
“Of course.” In some nervousness, Michael dug the filigree ring from the pocket of his waistcoat, which he gave to the clergyman, who rested it upon his open Book of Common Prayer.
The emerald winked in the candlelight. He followed it with a small leather pouch as payment and gratuity for services rendered.
“I appreciate it.” Mr. Hearthstone returned the ring to him.
“You may present this to your betrothed.” As soon as Michael slipped it onto the fourth finger of Evangeline’s left hand, he spoke quickly before the clergyman could.
“Please know that I will do my best toward you… even if my best is horrid.”
“Oh, Michael.” Her eyes glimmered with tears. “You aren’t alone any longer, but remember, I am not standing here because I wish to change you. We are who we are.”
He nodded. “I hope you won’t regret those words, for you don’t truly know who I am.” Or what I am.
Mr. Hearthstone softly cleared his throat. “Please repeat after me, Your Grace.”
A shudder went down Michael’s spine. There was no turning back now.
He held Evangeline’s gaze and wanted nothing more than to drown in the hazel pools of her eyes if only to beg her to not give up on him once he disclosed his deception.
“With this Ring I thee wed, with my Body I thee worship, and with all my worldly Goods I thee endow. In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.”
Mr. Hearthstone raised his free hand. “The nuptial couple will please kneel. I invite everyone here to pray with me.”
As the words of the prayer flowed over him, Michael peeked at Evangeline.
She looked back at him with a slight smile curving her kissable lips.
A shiver of anticipation went down his spine and through his shaft, for everything was rapidly spinning out of control, and he needed to remind himself that he was indeed doing the right thing.
Then the clergyman’s words were over, and he stood.
He smoothly brought Evangeline to her feet.
Mr. Hearthstone closed his book. “I now pronounce thee husband and wife.”
Applause broke out among the gathered guests.
The full responsibility of what just happened pressed in on him. Michael turned, as did she, and he caught her hand in his. “Now you legally belong to me.” What an asinine thing to say, yet he couldn’t form any other words.
Mr. Hearthstone regarded Michael. “Do please see my clerk to sign the register.”
“Thank you. We will.” With nothing else for it, he brought his new bride over to the table where the clerk sat, and in short order, they both signed not only the register but the document the man indicated.
A numb sort of feeling rose through his chest, for this was a new experience for him, and he didn’t quite know what to do.