Chapter 15 #2
And he must, considering that he knew the owner well enough for the man to let her borrow a room. The room was a storage closet with a single electric bulb hanging down in the center. Despite Noah being near, she wedged the back of a chair under the doorknob, to be certain she’d be left alone.
She unwrapped the package, revealing a smoky blue silk gown—not quite European but not traditional Egyptian either.
The bodice hugged the curves of her breasts, the neckline a deep-V embroidered with beads.
From there, it flared to a full, long skirt.
A pair of sandals and a light-blue head scarf were also in the package.
Whatever Noah had planned, he wanted her well-dressed for it. Forbidden as it was to be with him, a thrill of excitement curled within her.
After she’d dressed, she did her best to fold her uniform neatly into the package and tie it up. Her flame-red hair wreathed her face as she arranged the veil. Without a mirror, she didn’t know how she looked, but she hoped she’d done well enough.
She left the storeroom and passed back out to the street.
Hugging her uniform to her chest, she searched for Noah.
She didn’t see him, but the street was dark, streetlamps throwing light onto the surroundings.
A pigeon near one table of the café cooed and flapped its wings, boldly coming closer to her, despite the time of night.
It tilted its head toward her, beady black eyes fixed on her package.
“Oh, be off,” she told it. “I don’t have any food for you.”
A low whistle caught her attention. Noah approached from the shadows across the street. He gave her an admiring look as he stopped in front of her. “You look beautiful.”
She laughed, enjoying his compliments. He’d never been so overtly flirtatious or so jovial in his attentions toward her. “I thought you’d abandoned me,” she teased.
He pulled her into his arms and kissed her, as though there weren’t dozens of other people around to see.
People who would probably disapprove of their public displays of affection.
But Noah didn’t seem to care. He seemed …
happy. Releasing her, he stepped back, a warm smile still in his eyes. “You ready?”
“Ready for what?” Why on earth was he being so cryptic?
He slipped his hands into hers. “To get married.”
Married? She stared at him, her jaw dropping. A thousand thoughts assailed her. She didn’t know whether to fling her arms around his neck with joy or punch him for being a tease. “Today? Are you serious?”
He kissed the back of her knuckles. “Completely.” He kept his gaze locked to hers. “I know it isn’t the wedding we talked about, but I refuse to allow anyone to threaten you. Including Lord Helton. This will be the last time someone will threaten you and you can’t come to me.”
She wanted to melt at his words. She hadn’t paid attention before, but he wore his dress uniform.
Her eyes filled with tears of relief, of knowing she had his protection to rely on.
The fears of Lord Helton’s threats against her family had been gnawing on her.
“But what about my promise to him? He says he’ll ruin my family. ”
He took the package containing her uniform and held it under one arm. Holding her hand with his free one, he tugged her down the pavement. “To hell with that promise.”
His hand tightened. “I won’t have you being blackmailed and bribed to stay away from me.
We don’t have to tell anyone but Lord Helton about our marriage.
For now. We can meet in secret so that you can worry less about your family.
As it is, I can’t promise you a life together right now.
I’ll be sent away on an assignment soon enough.
But at least we’ll be married and no one will ever be able to separate us. ”
Her mind raced. “But won’t Lord Helton be furious?” Much as she wanted to marry him, she didn’t follow his logic. How would marrying help solve things?
She wrinkled her nose at a dead mouse under the window of a shop they passed. They crossed a busy street, and she blinked up in surprise as they approached a familiar wall of banded red and white Roman masonry. “Is this the Fortress of Babylon?” she asked.
Noah nodded as they passed through an arch.
“There’s a Coptic church here where the priest has agreed to marry us.
” He cleared his throat, stopping under a row of hedges.
“I’m going to tell Lord Helton that if he continues to threaten my wife, I’m requesting a transfer.
He doesn’t want that to happen.” His eyes darkened.
“And this way, if something happens to me, at least you’d have some pension. ”
Ginger fought a wave of fear. “How utterly romantic. Please don’t talk like that.” Her throat tightened. She could hardly imagine the many dangers he had yet to face. “Marriage with a backdrop of riots seems graceless.”
He held her hands. “Love is the only remedy to death and destruction—the only thing that reminds us what we have to live for.” Noah kissed her, pushing a tendril of hair from her face with a gentle touch.
“You taught me that, rohi. I would rather live one day amid war as your husband than a thousand years of peace without your love. So marry me. Here. And later, if your family wishes it. I’ll marry twenty times so long as you’re the one standing with me. ”
She wanted to marry him. More than anything. But what would her mother say? She searched his gaze. “But don’t we have to go to the consulate?”
“We’ll do that later when we’re able to have our marriage be in the open. Today, I’ll settle for marrying you in the church. I can keep the paperwork until you’re ready to share it.”
He seemed to have thought the whole thing through more than she gave him credit for. “But—”
“I’m not taking no for an answer.” He rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand. “And you’ll find that when I’m determined to get what I want, I do.”
Had he concocted this scheme today? Her excitement grew. “Oh, I never doubted that.” She leaned forward and kissed him. “You’re mad. This is mad. And I love you.”
“Then you’ll do it?” Church bells tolled and they both looked up at the path, past the ruins of the old fort. The famous churches of St. George and the Hanging Church were around the corner.
She cocked an eyebrow at him. The bells continued to echo against the stone walls, the warm winter breeze enveloping them both. “It didn’t seem like you were asking my permission.”
“Always. It doesn’t count if you don’t say yes.”
Her heart felt strangely light. “Then, yes.”
He squeezed her hand. “Good.”
As he led her away from the more famous ruins in the fort, she tried to wrap her mind around Noah’s proposal.
What if we haven’t thought this through enough? She didn’t know how she would break the news to her mother. Especially now that her mother seemed so interested in setting her up with William.
She doubled her steps to keep up with Noah’s stride. He looked striking in his uniform, and it was the way she always thought of him. This wasn’t the way she’d ever pictured her wedding—racing hand in hand with him down the narrow streets of Coptic Cairo while protests broke out over the city.
“Which church are you taking me to?” She peered around as they headed into an ancient pathway between buildings.
“The Church of St. Barbara. It’s not like the other churches here in the fort. The exterior is unassuming, but it’s one of my favorites.”
“A Catholic church?” She’d never even set foot in one before. “My father may roll over in his grave.”
Noah gave her a rueful expression. “Unfortunately, the church won’t consider our marriage valid unless I’m married by a Catholic priest. And since we’re currently neglecting the validity of our marriage through the government, we may as well have it through the church.”
“You’re Catholic?” She shouldn’t be surprised. He was Irish, after all. But it was among the many things she probably ought to have known about him before she’d agreed to marry him.
This would do nothing to warm her mother to him. She bit her lip. Well, it wouldn’t be the first scandal she’d faced. She hadn’t planned on a return to society life at any rate. Would the priest mind she was Anglican?
Noah continued to lead the way through the narrow streets. It only felt as though they’d walked a block when Noah slowed in front of a nondescript building. She surveyed a small sign on the exterior. She couldn’t read Arabic. “This is the church? It seems so hidden.”
“And yet,” Noah held open the wooden door, “it’s lovely inside.” As they entered, her heart pounded.
Noah led her through the back of the church, which appeared to have only one sanctuary. “Wait here,” he told her. “I have to find the priest.”
She frowned. “And if he says no?”
“He won’t. I’ve already arranged it.”
Her eyes drifted toward the altar as he left. The church was distinctly beautiful, though small. A few rows of carved wooden benches sat in front of the altar, marble columns flanking them. The architecture was warm, distinctly Coptic.
She avoided the gaze of the saint depicted in an icon near to where she stood. Catholics believed firmly in the need for confession, and she’d committed so many sins, especially in the past year. What atonement was required of her?
“That’s St. Barbara.” Noah’s voice came from behind her, and she startled.
He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her to rest against him as they stared at the icon together.
“The scene depicted is when her father locked her in a tower for refusing to marry any of the young, wealthy aristocrats he preferred for her.”
This time she looked at the serene expression of the saint more closely. The story was one she could relate to. She relaxed into Noah’s arms, her worries dissolving. “Did she end up marrying a mysterious soldier at night instead?”
Before Noah could answer, they were interrupted by the shuffling sound of footsteps. An elderly priest in vestments approached them. He bowed his head at Ginger and she curtsied.
“Shall we begin?” the priest asked in broken English. He pointed them down the aisle, toward the altar.
Just like that? No organ, no bridesmaids. Flowers or family.
Just Noah.
It was perfect. Just as it should be.
Noah took his place beside her and removed his hat. The priest began the ceremony. As the words poured from his lips, she held back a smile. She’d never thought that her wedding would take place in a language she didn’t understand. Let alone in a Catholic church.
She met Noah’s eyes. “I don’t understand a thing, you know,” she muttered to him.
Noah leaned toward her and whispered, “It’s Coptic. The closest language there is to that of the Ancient Egyptians. But the only words that matter are the ones we say to each other.”
His words produced a shiver. The ancient language of the people of this land—a land she loved and felt forever tied to. Now more than ever.
As it came time for them to say their vows, the priest resumed his English. Noah clasped her hands as she said, “I, Virginia, take thee Noah, to be my wedded husband …”
Goosebumps rose on her arms as she continued.
Noah’s eyes didn’t move from hers, and the sound of the words faded into the furthest recesses of her mind.
When Noah spoke, she barely heard him. He’d whispered these words to her when he’d been fading in the desert.
There was no difference between what he’d said then and now. Except that there was a witness.
Her heart and soul already belonged to him.
When Noah finished his vows, the priest held out his hand for a ring to bless it.
The corners of his mouth curved in a smile and he reached into his pocket.
“Since you’ve absconded with my mother’s ring, I had to come up with one of my own.
” The ring in the palm of his hand was a simple delicate gold band, with the ankh symbol part of the design.
The ankh was sideways, the bottom of it melting away into the band.
Tears misted in her eyes. “I love it, Noah.”
She stared at the ring, their hands together. “With this ring, I thee wed. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.” Noah’s voice was clear as he slipped it onto her finger.
Her mind went back to Lord Helton’s threats. She couldn’t bear the thought of losing Noah. Not now. Not ever.