Chapter Thirteen
The next day
It was mid-morning in Oxford as Maximus and Courtly, both of them upon Maximus’ black and white jennet, made their way to St. Clement’s Church.
Courtly, exhausted from the events of the past two days and having very little sleep, was sitting across Maximus’ lap, sleeping quite soundly against him.
He held her with one hand and controlled the horse with the other.
Even when he pulled the horse to a halt at the livery they had been using when in Oxford, he still didn’t have the heart to wake her. But it was necessary.
“Courtly?” he whispered, giving her a gentle shake. “Wake up, love. We have arrived.”
It took Courtly one or two more shakes before she roused. Yawning, she sat up, rubbing her eyes and looking at her surroundings. It took her a moment to recognize their location.
“We are back in Oxford,” she said as Maximus dismounted his steed and lifted her off the horse, setting her carefully to the ground. “Why did you choose to come back here? It is too close to my father, Max.”
He shook his head. “I would not worry about it,” he said. “In any case, I do not see him coming to this section of Oxford and, more specifically, St. Clement’s any time soon.”
She looked up at him with her sleepy eyes. “Is that where we are going?”
“Aye.”
“Why?”
“To get married.”
She gave him a half-grin. “We may as well,” she said, feigning sarcasm. “We have gone through an awful lot of trouble in order to be together. You had better marry me if you know what’s good for you.”
Maximus laughed softly. “I would have told you this at The Buck and Bounty last night only you came in the door, threw yourself into my arms, and promptly fell asleep.”
Courtly yawned again. “That is because I was up the entire night before and all day, too,” she said. “I am still so sleepy that I could lay down right here on the hay and go back to sleep.”
He put his arm around her. “I know, love,” he said quietly. “But let us be done with our business this morning and then you can sleep.”
Maximus gathered his saddlebags and weapons before allowing a stable boy to take his horse away. With his weaponry and bags slung over his left shoulder, he took Courtly with his right hand and led her from the strong-smelling livery and out into the cool, bright day beyond.
The Street of the Merchants was immediately to their right and St. Clement’s to their left as they emerged from the yard.
Before he went to the church, however, Maximus returned to his favorite merchant to see if the man had any manner of gift to give his bride on the event of their wedding.
Maximus’ mother, Honey, had been given a beautiful necklace from their father at the wedding and she wore it always, but in later years, Antoninus de Shera had given his wife a ring.
Maximus liked that symbol very much because, to him, it looked like a golden shackle by which to keep his wife bound to him.
Therefore, he was specifically looking for a ring, which the white-haired merchant was more than happy to sell him.
After a looking at several choices, Courtly selected a golden ring with a beautiful, yellow stone in the center.
A yellow diamond, the merchant had said, and Maximus had paid handsomely for the thick-banded ring.
He also paid for a well-made, dark blue cloak for her also, as she had nothing of warmth to wear.
The cloak, lined with gray rabbit, was warm and beautiful, and with that, Maximus and Courtly headed over to St. Clement’s.
The morning mass had come and gone, and the church was relatively empty as Maximus went in search of a priest. He found two of them in the back of the church, behind the screen that separated the rear of the church from the major part of the sanctuary.
As Courtly wait patiently on the main floor of the sanctuary, watching an occasional worshiper move past her, Maximus conducted business behind the screen.
Courtly could hear muted voices, at least two unfamiliar ones and then Maximus’ deep tone.
She couldn’t quite hear what was being said but she was sure, much like any other type of obstacle Maximus de Shera faced, he was beating the priests down stone by stone by sheer force of will.
She smiled as she thought of the man who was to be her husband, thrilled beyond measure that the stars had aligned enough so that she was able to marry the man without immediate fear of her father. It was almost too good to believe.
My father. Courtly tried not to think too much of Kellen and what his reaction would be when he discovered what she had done.
Ellice had been so instrumental in making sure Courtly and Maximus were together that she seriously worried about the safety of her aunt, wondering if her father would somehow find out the extent of what she had done and punish her.
Courtly had never particularly had any use for her normally-taciturn aunt, but the situation with Maximus had changed that opinion.
Ellice would not let the same thing happen to Courtly that had happened to her.
She had been most determined that her niece not be a spinster.
Perhaps in some way, she would share in Courtly’s happiness, knowing she had contributed to it.
Courtly certainly hoped so. Many people had risked many things in order to see her and Maximus joined, not the least of which was Kirk St. Héver.
As Maximus and a priest emerged from behind the carefully-carved screen made from Yew, Courtly briefly reflected on St. Héver and his selfless act of disobedience.
Courtly remembered back to the previous year when St. Héver had impressed upon her his feelings for her and she clearly remembered, with some sadness, how she could not reciprocate them.
St. Héver had been disappointed but he’d take it in stride and had never mentioned it again.
Even last night, when their party had reached Woodstock and, under the guise of helping bed down Isadora, he’d hypothetically presented a story to Courtly about a young woman who ran off from her escort and ended up at The Buck and Bounty Inn to rendezvous with her lover and had made no mention of his past feelings for her.
All he had said was that he hoped she was finally happy.
St. Héver was taking an enormous chance incurring her father’s wrath and they both knew it, but St. Héver didn’t seem to care.
He simply opened the rear door to the inn they happened to have been staying at and told her that The Buck and Bounty was down the avenue.
Stunned, Courtly had kissed him on the cheek before running like the wind.
But thoughts of Kirk St. Héver faded as she focused on Maximus, who was smiling at her as he approached with a short, thin man in heavy, woolen robes.
The priest took them both back behind the screen and, with Maximus’ generous payment of five gold crowns, performed a marriage mass, the end of which saw Lady Courtly Love de Lara become Lady Courtly de Lara de Shera.
It all seemed so surreal and dream-like as Maximus put the beautiful, golden ring on her finger, the big stone glistening in the weak light.
Once the mass was complete and the marriage recorded in the big book that the priests kept of births, marriages, and deaths, Maximus took his new wife out of the church and headed back to the livery to collect his horse.
And with that, a whirlwind courtship had finally become a marriage. It was done.
But there were no thoughts of consequences or angry fathers after that.
There was only joy. As they crossed the busy road towards the livery, Maximus held Courtly’s hand tightly, so tightly, in fact, that he was cutting off her circulation.
By the time they reached the stable, she was forced to extract her hand from his grasp.
When he looked at her, questioningly, she grinned and held up her hand.
“I was losing feeling in it because you were holding on so tightly,” she said, showing him the red-marked fingers. “What are you afraid of? That I’m going to run away?”
He grinned. “Nay,” he said. “I apologize, love. I did not realize I was trying to crush your hand.”
Courtly laughed, watching as Maximus sent a stable boy on the run for his horse. When the boy fled, she spoke.
“You did not,” she said. “In fact, I welcome the way you hold me. It tells me that you will never let me go away again, no matter what.”
Maximus turned to her, pulling her into his arms and gazing down into her sweet face. “I will always be with you,” he said softly. “Just as you shall always be with me, until the end of time. We are forever joined, you and I. Not even your father can separate us.”
Courtly relished the feel of his arms around her, the power and majesty that was Maximus de Shera. “I consider myself the most fortunate woman on the face of the earth,” she cooed. “I was a fool to run from you, Max. I hope you understand that my motives were true.”
He nodded, bending over to kiss her on the nose although he wanted to do much more than that. She was his wife now and with her warm, soft body pressed against him, the arousal was instant. Everything about her was consuming him already.
“I know,” he whispered. “I told you on the road outside of Begbroke that I was going to tell you just what I thought of your running off, but now I find that it is wholly inconsequential. There were a great many things I was going to tell you after I spanked you soundly for such a thing, but I have you back now and nothing else seems to matter.”
Courtly bit her lip to keep from grinning. “Not even spanking me?”
“Not even that.”
“Are you prone to spanking women, then?”
“Do you intend to test me and find out?”