The special license had been simple enough to obtain. Stephen’s cousin had spoken to the archbishop on his behalf, as part of his apology for all the trouble he’d caused. Densmore was here now, standing next to Miss Oak and the school instructors on the castle’s front garden.
Elizabeth grinned up at Stephen from beneath her veil.
He couldn’t wait until the end of the ceremony. He wanted to kiss her, to hell with pomp and circumstance. But there were a hundred schoolchildren watching, so he would have to save a thorough ravishment until he and his wife could share a moment in private.
The curate turned to Stephen. “Wilt thou have this woman to thy wedded wife, to love her, comfort her, honor and keep her, in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others, keep thee only unto her so long as you both shall live?”
“I will.”
The curate turned to Elizabeth and asked the same question. Technically, the curate was supposed to instruct her toobey, but the man was a friend of the Wynchesters and had therefore agreed to accidentally forget that phrase, lest Elizabeth break her vows before the end of the ceremony.
“… and, forsaking all others, keep thee only unto him, so long as you both shall live?”
Elizabeth grinned at Stephen. “I will.”
There were no sniffles in the crowd. Only cheers of joy and the clapping of hands when at last the curate pronounced them legally wed.
“And now,” said Elizabeth, her green eyes twinkling. “We get to do the good part!”
The curate stepped back, his expression shocked and alarmed.
“Notthat‘good part,’” Stephen assured him. “We’ll attend to consummation later.”
Elizabeth held out her hand. “My bejeweled claymore, if you please.”
Jacob placed the hilt into Elizabeth’s open hand.
“Kneel before me, husband,” Elizabeth commanded.
Stephen dutifully sank to his knees.
“Who gives this man to the Wynchester family?”
Silence reigned amongst the hundred-plus spectators.
“Uh…” Densmore stammered. “I suppose… I suppose that would be me?”
The children cheered.
“I have no idea what I’m doing,” the earl murmured. “I’ve no idea what any of you are doing. But if it makes you happy…”
“I’ve never been happier,” Stephen said, and meant it.
Elizabeth hefted the claymore. “Step aside, if you would please, Lord Densmore. You don’t want to get splashed by blood if I chop off an ear.”
Startled, the earl leapt backward. “Did you just say—”
“Mr. Stephen Lenox,” Elizabeth bellowed, as though her husband were not kneeling two feet in front of her. “Do you, before these witnesses, pledge to uphold the spirit and service of the Wynchester family, at play and on missions, legal or not—”
The curate blinked. “Did you just say—”
“—for causes great and small, upholding justice and striking bloody vengeance—”
“No vengeance,” said Jacob. “Bloody or otherwise. We went over this.”
“—and restore justice wherever it is needed, for as long as we all shall live?”
“Indeed I shall.” Stephen touched his fingers to his chest and lifted them to the sky.
