and flowers. Last time I wore blue and silver, and I entered Exeter Cathedral with most of polite society watching us do the deed. Richard had slept with half of them—the female half—and he’d wanted our highly public wedding to serve as a statement of intent. They’d have to find another stallion. I hadn’t realised he meant that at the time, but it hadn’t taken me long to understand.
This time it was almost the wedding I’d wanted. Just people I cared about, although I missed my sister Lizzie. Ruth scowled at me. I was tempted to scowl back just to show her how unlovely the expression looked.
I felt almost dreamlike, a weird sensation of repeating my actions but not quite—I wasn’t sure I liked it. But when I saw Richard’s encouraging smile, everything returned to its proper place and I walked up the aisle to him considerably faster than I had the first time.
And this time I listened to the words. Before, my trepidation and sheer terror had removed much of the experience from my mind, but now I knew what awaited me, and I could say the words in the full knowledge of the happiness that awaited me. Hopefully nobody waited outside the church with a pair of pistols, ready to remove us from the picture. That had been on the instigation of Julia and Steven Drury, and they had since relented, or decided to take another route to personal power.
When Richard said his vows, he looked at me and only me. Anyone watching would see what I meant to him. I swallowed back my tears, not wanting to mar the occasion with inappropriate emotions, but I knew I’d weep later from pure joy. A tear must have escaped because he lifted his hand and gently brushed my cheek. I saw the liquid on his forefinger before he brought it to his lips and kissed it away.
I had taken my ring off on the journey to the church and transferred my ruby betrothal ring to my right hand. Now he put the wedding ring back. I caught a glimpse of the engraved message inside, known only to Richard and me, and then I gave him my right hand, to remove the ruby and replace it where it belonged. I slid his ring on his left hand after I made my promises. Not all men wore wedding rings, but Richard had elected to do so.
After our previous wedding, Richard had led me to the vestry, where he took me in his arms and kissed me. His reticence at that time would have made him uncomfortable to show such emotion in public, even in such close company as we were now, but today he showed no such disinclination. His kiss was no polite kiss of greeting, but he crushed me close and took my mouth with all the abandon he showed in the bedroom. Except, of course, his hands remained sedately around my waist. I felt his heat and I wanted him.
But for James clearing his throat I might have been the one to take matters further. As it was I found that I’d put my hands around his waist, under his coat, ready to slide them under his waistcoat at the back and drag his shirt clear of his breeches. My lamentable desire to seek skin had led me astray more than once. But only one man’s skin, only one man’s touch, could ever satisfy that need.
Richard drew away with a laugh and without embarrassment, took my hand and led me to the vestry, where we signed the parish register. James and Gervase followed us to witness our signatures. Richard only let go of my hand so that I could sit down to sign the book, while he explained to the vicar, “If our first marriage remains uncontested, then this service is an affirmation of our vows. If not, then you may be required to show the register as proof of our marriage.” The clink of gold coins followed and the vicar’s unctuous assurances that the register would be carefully guarded and shown to any official who required it, but not to the casual passerby.
Richard helped me to my feet after leaning over me to add his signature to mine. Unlike the first time, my name flowed from the pen and I marvelled at how accustomed I had become to it. At
This time it was almost the wedding I’d wanted. Just people I cared about, although I missed my sister Lizzie. Ruth scowled at me. I was tempted to scowl back just to show her how unlovely the expression looked.
I felt almost dreamlike, a weird sensation of repeating my actions but not quite—I wasn’t sure I liked it. But when I saw Richard’s encouraging smile, everything returned to its proper place and I walked up the aisle to him considerably faster than I had the first time.
And this time I listened to the words. Before, my trepidation and sheer terror had removed much of the experience from my mind, but now I knew what awaited me, and I could say the words in the full knowledge of the happiness that awaited me. Hopefully nobody waited outside the church with a pair of pistols, ready to remove us from the picture. That had been on the instigation of Julia and Steven Drury, and they had since relented, or decided to take another route to personal power.
When Richard said his vows, he looked at me and only me. Anyone watching would see what I meant to him. I swallowed back my tears, not wanting to mar the occasion with inappropriate emotions, but I knew I’d weep later from pure joy. A tear must have escaped because he lifted his hand and gently brushed my cheek. I saw the liquid on his forefinger before he brought it to his lips and kissed it away.
I had taken my ring off on the journey to the church and transferred my ruby betrothal ring to my right hand. Now he put the wedding ring back. I caught a glimpse of the engraved message inside, known only to Richard and me, and then I gave him my right hand, to remove the ruby and replace it where it belonged. I slid his ring on his left hand after I made my promises. Not all men wore wedding rings, but Richard had elected to do so.
After our previous wedding, Richard had led me to the vestry, where he took me in his arms and kissed me. His reticence at that time would have made him uncomfortable to show such emotion in public, even in such close company as we were now, but today he showed no such disinclination. His kiss was no polite kiss of greeting, but he crushed me close and took my mouth with all the abandon he showed in the bedroom. Except, of course, his hands remained sedately around my waist. I felt his heat and I wanted him.
But for James clearing his throat I might have been the one to take matters further. As it was I found that I’d put my hands around his waist, under his coat, ready to slide them under his waistcoat at the back and drag his shirt clear of his breeches. My lamentable desire to seek skin had led me astray more than once. But only one man’s skin, only one man’s touch, could ever satisfy that need.
Richard drew away with a laugh and without embarrassment, took my hand and led me to the vestry, where we signed the parish register. James and Gervase followed us to witness our signatures. Richard only let go of my hand so that I could sit down to sign the book, while he explained to the vicar, “If our first marriage remains uncontested, then this service is an affirmation of our vows. If not, then you may be required to show the register as proof of our marriage.” The clink of gold coins followed and the vicar’s unctuous assurances that the register would be carefully guarded and shown to any official who required it, but not to the casual passerby.
Richard helped me to my feet after leaning over me to add his signature to mine. Unlike the first time, my name flowed from the pen and I marvelled at how accustomed I had become to it. At
Similar Books
