Without You, There is No Point in Surviving

Chapter 16 The Wedding

They retreated to their room, not saying a word. They stripped to their underclothes, backs to each other, and crawled under the covers. They faced away, staring at the opposite walls and feeling a bit awkward. "Are you angry with me, love?" Nellie asked, after the silence had become suffocating. She feared their little attachment on the beach might have upset him in some way.

He rolled over to face her. She unfortunately could not meet his gaze due to her wounded side, but she still tried. Tossing over on her left, only to wince in pain and settle on her back, sighing at the ceiling. "I'm not upset, my pet." He muttered.

"Well thank the lord," she said with a sigh. "We got a little carried away. I was afraid you'd—"

"We're to be married Nellie. I won't be upset." He looked at her. "Besides, how am I to get my little girl back in my arms if the thought alone causes you to blush like a young maid."

She laughed, a smile remaining on her lips. "Maybe it's because all of this feels to much like one of my silly dreams to be real."

She rolled back onto her right, shivering slightly as she felt his arm snaked around her waist. She grinned and closed her eyes, preparing her mind to drift off into sleep. She struggled not to blush again as she could have sworn, he inhaled the scent of her hair. Just as both of them were comfortable enough to relax, they were disturbed by sounds of moaning and shaking behind the wall inches from Nellie's ears. She lifted her head in questioning. Her eyes grew wide and her mouth fell agape. Monica had said they weren't the only pair of lovers in her inn. Nellie closed her eyes and shook her head. She rotated her body again, as if changing her position would allow her escape from the sounds of their fornicating neighbors.

"Sounds like they're having fun." Sweeney muttered causing her to laugh again.

He was awakened the next morning by a pillow landing on his face. "Rise my barber, we have much to do today." He rolled over with a grunt. Nellie sat on the bed, leaning over him. "Come now, we have a priest to find."

He rolled over to look at her, "A little priest?"

"Of sorts, yes." She chuckled, grinning wide.

Hours later, they sat in Grimsby's church across from the priest. He consistently quizzed the two of their history and scribbling their answers down. "Miss Plummer." He began looking up at Nellie. She met his gaze, smiling politely. "Am I correct in assuming you are in your thirties?"

"Yes, Father."

"You're a bit late to be getting married." He commented.

"My family allowed me to marry for love. It's not my fault it took this long to find someone I fancied." She was confident and posed like a royal.

"Tell me about your family. Where are you from?"

"London. I worked in a shop with my grandparents, and I took over when they both died. I was born on a farm in Southern England. My father died in the war and my mother, stricken from grief distanced herself from me and my brother. He left some time ago after he wed and my mother moved in with him and his new wife in their home in America." Sweeney was appalled by how well she could tell a tale. She was lying to a bloody priest without even batting an eyelid.

"And are you a maid? Never been wed before?"

"I remain pure."

"Excellent." He turned his gaze to Sweeney. "And you Mr. Oakley,"

"I am a widower, Father. Born in London." He scribbled some things down. "My young wife died of the plague."

The priest met his eyes once more in alarm. "The red death?"