Subjugated

Chapter Eighteen: Holy

  That night, it's a clear night, so we sleep outside under the stars. We use some rags as blankets, and it's a bit chilly. But I'm so filled with the warm glow of happiness that I don't even mind the cold. When I hear the loud snores of my father, I wiggle over to Desmond and curl up next to him.

  He jumps. "Jesus, Maura, I was just falling asleep." 

  "So I'm not worth waking up for?"

  "Well, I'm not sure..."

  I make a face at him. 

  He taps my nose. "That's a cute face."

  "It wasn't meant to be. It was meant to show you that I didn't approve of your previous remarks."

  "I knew you wouldn't."

  "So then why did you say them?" 

  "Because you can't expect me to totally change for you. I'm still the same scullion inside. You can't expect amazing treatment from me. I'm not bowing down to any woman."  He snorts. "Silly women! Expecting everyone to put them on a pedestal."

   I bat my eyelashes girlishly, and make my voice go very high. "But don't I deserve it?"

  "Changing myself? For a silly female? Surely, you jest!"

  "But, good sir, I do not."

  "You know who you are marrying. I may be a changed man on my good days. But I warned you not to provoke me, for on my bad days, I am the most irritating, evil man ever. I acknowledge it."

   I think back to when he "hated" me. He was rather evil. "I have experienced your wrath, so I shall refrain from provoking you."

   He nods, as if he is the last authority on this matter. "So we must make a deal. I shall treat you well, so long as you shan't provoke me. Shall we seal it with a kiss?"

   "That is a deal I can agree to. I propose that we seal it with more than one kiss."

  "Clever proposition. I quite like it, and agree to it."

  "Shall we seal it then?"

 And seal it we do. With innumerable kisses. Why should we stop at one?

  The days that follow are the same thing. Walking, with the men occasionally leaving us  to go hunting, and then sleeping in inns and in woods. Finally, we arrive at the cathedral.

  I gasp when it comes into view. It is magnificent, with towers and columns and all sorts of intricacies. We stream in, with all the other pilgrims. All around us, people are speaking different languages. Italian, French, Spanish....so many excited words.

   We enter, and I'm immediately stunned. It's even more beautiful on the inside. High ceilings, ornately carved pillars, and gorgeous glass windows. We find a seat in the pews, and the service begins. 

   This is the closest to God I've ever felt. After all the things He's done for me, I find it only proper to thank him. All through the service, I pray and thank God. And just like Father told me, I beg forgiveness and ask Him to give me happiness in my new life with Desmond. I'm disappointed when the service is over. It felt very anti-climactic. We come all this way, and with a snap of my fingers, the service is over. 

  That night, we stay in an inn. I stay up late that night, talking to Desmond. Sharing our secrets, our prayers, our hopes. Our dreams. 

   The next morning, we begin the trip back home. The trip home is the same as the trip away from home. Walking, inns, hunting. Family. Love. The usual. 

   We finally return home two weeks later. I burst into our cottage. Never before have I been so happy to see its mud floors, its rickety furniture. But I'm so delighted to be back that it doesn't matter that it smells perpetually musty, or that the table is missing a leg. All that matters is that I'm here. And I'm home. 

  I don't even mind cooking that night for my father and brothers, who don't even thank me. But I smile. Some things never change. 

  A week after we return, we dress up in our best clothes and go to our village's chapel. I wear a long-sleeved white lace dress that my mother wore when she married my father. My father cries as he laces it up. 

  "Why are you crying?"

 "I miss her so much, Maura."

 "So do I."

My father clears his tears, and we go to the chapel. Desmond is wearing a clean white shirt and dark pants. The priest reads out the vows, and we repeat after him. Desmond adds in a whisper that he vows to be as nice as possible to me. Then he slips a simple band on my finger, and we are married.