The bishop directed his next words to the chapel, empty but for Nick, Mariana, and Sir Bacon. “Who giveth this woman to be married to this man?”
A silence ensued that only grew more uncomfortable with every second that beat by.
“Me,” Hortense said, a comely blush spreading to the tips of her ears. “I give myself.”
“That is most irregular, I daresay,” the bishop huffed. His voluminous robes shuddered in agreement.
“The pouch in your pocket is there to ensure anyirregularitieswill be overlooked,” Jamie said, adamant.
It was the bishop’s turn to blush. “Now repeat after me.”
Jamie faced Hortense. “I take thee, Amelie Hortense Marchand to my wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer 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.”
He’d never spoken more important words in his life.
When she spoke the vows, he held her gaze. He could see it wanted to skitter away, but he wouldn’t allow it.
“Do you have the ring?” asked the bishop.
Jamie pulled it from his pocket and suddenly felt shy of it. It truly was obscenely ostentatious, exhibitionistic even. And he could see from the widening of Hortense’s eyes that she had the same thought. She took an unconscious step backward, and he couldn’t help smiling. “It doesn’t bite,” he murmured.
A small laugh escaped her like a much-needed release of nerves.
He took her left hand. Small and delicate within his, he only just realized that she wasn’t wearing gloves, and neither was he. Her skin lay bare against his. Warm, soft, a subtle hint of moisture. As he slid the ring on to her fourth finger, he said, “With this ring I thee wed, with my body I thee worship, and with all my worldly goods, I thee endow.”
He would wed this woman, worship her, protect her, to his dying breath.
It felt true.
It felt right.
“Those whom God hath joined together let no man put asunder,” the bishop declared.
Silence descended on the chapel as Jamie held Hortense steady with his gaze. In those cerulean depths skittered uncertainty. But what he didn’t see was doubt. Her faith stirred him. He wanted nothing more than to be worthy of it.
From the front pew, a throat cleared, discreet, expectant. What the deuce were they expecting?
It hit him.Oh.
Understanding had dawned on Hortense, too.
Cautiously, unconvinced he wouldn’t scare her away, Jamie took a step, close enough that the banked heat of her body reached out and invited him nearer. Intuitively, he cupped the side of her face, and she swayed toward him. His head lowered, and he felt the breath from her upturned mouth in the heartbeat before his lips touched hers. The kiss was to be naught more than a touch, a formality. Then she breathed a sigh into his mouth, and a spark lit through him. His free hand couldn’t help finding her lower back and pulling her into him. Her eyes fluttered shut, and she surrendered to his kiss. A single, fundamental understanding of himself came into perfect clarity:
His entire life had been moving toward this moment.
The moment his lips touched hers.
Again, a throat cleared, and a fluttery giggle echoed through the chapel, pulling a resistant Jamie from the depths of the kiss, depths he hadn’t yet begun to properly explore. Not one to be far from the center of attention, Sir Bacon barked. Hortense’s eyes flew wide, and she startled back, fingertips touching her kiss-crushed lips, chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. Stunned eyes stared up at him, and she bit her plump bottom lip.
He followed the movement.Carnal…lust…appetite.Words from his vows. Words that all applied to his state of mind. He wanted to take that lip between his teeth. It was all he could do not to go back in for another taste of her cherry sweetness.
Next he knew, Nick was clapping him on the back, and Mariana was gathering Hortense into a tight embrace. While congratulations where being offered and received, Hortense never left his field of vision. She was hiswife. The idea filled him with equal parts dread and joy, and he couldn’t decide which was more unreasonable.
He’d told her that she didn’t truly have to be a wife to him. That they could lead separate lives. Nothing more was promised.
But, oh, what more he wanted.
He wanted all of her.
