Storm of Bells

42. Becoming One

'Wilt thou have this woman as thy wedded wife, to live together after God's ordinance in the holy estate of matrimony? Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honour, 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 echoed in the church, feeling louder in my ears than the ringing of the bell. Mr Ambrose's head turned towards me, his fierce eyes searing into me. I stared back just as fiercely, my hand almost squashing his.

Was he going to break the silence?

You'd better!

Turning back to the vicar, Mr Ambrose inclined his head once, fast and hard. 'Yes.'

The vicar turned towards me, a broad smile on his face.

'And wilt thou have this man as thy wedded husband, to live together after God's ordinance in the holy estate of matrimony? Wilt thou obey him, and serve him, love, honour, and keep him in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?'

Once more, I looked up at Mr Ambrose, unable to keep a smile off my face. In my mind, words from long ago replayed. Words that could be said to be my true wedding vows.

I'll swear to always obey your orders if you swear never to give me any.

Mr Ambrose met my gaze, and in his wonderfully icy eyes, I could see the answer: You're mad!

My smile widened. I know.

His eyes softened just the tiniest little bit. I love you.

Squeezing his hand, I took a deep breath and turned back towards the vicar. 'Yes.'

Whispers and snivels from rose from the crowd all around. The vicar spread his arms, raising his voice.

'Who giveth this woman to be married to this man?'

Uncle Bufford stepped forward, a tortured expression on his face.

'You really hate giving stuff away, don't you?' I whispered.

'Hrumph.' He sent me a grumpy look. 'Only valuable stuff.'

Then, as warmth blossomed in my chest, he took my free hand and placed it in Mr Ambrose's. He nodded to us, and so did the vicar. Standing ramrod-straight, Mr Rikkard Ambrose gazed directly into my eyes.

'I, Rikkard Ambrose, take you, Lillian Linton, to be my wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part, according to God's holy ordinance; and thereto I plight thee my troth.'

Not blinking once, I stared up into his deep, dark, fathomless eyes as if I could drown myself in them, and spoke the words I had thought of again and again during the last few days and weeks.

'I, Lillian Linton, take you, Rikkard Ambrose, to be my wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, cherish, and to obey, till death us do part, according to God's holy ordinance; and thereto I give thee my troth.'

Mr Ambrose released my left hand, and, reaching into his pocket, pulled out a simple golden wedding band. I breathed a little sigh of relief when I saw it was just big enough for one finger, not three. Inside it had something engraved. Squinting, I leaned closer.

R.A. & L.L.

I felt a sudden urge to throw myself at him.

Once again, his eyes fixed on mine. 'With this ring I thee wed.' His eyes lit up with icy fire. 'With my body I thee worship...' Oh, really? Hm...this was sounding interesting. '...and with all my worldly goods I thee endow.'