When they reached the part inviting anyone in the crowd to speak if they knew of an impediment to the marriage, Hannah held her breath. She could practically feel her father’s thoughts churning above their heads like a storm cloud. But he held his tongue, and the priest continued on.
“Silas Francis Corbyn, wilt thou have this woman to thy wedded wife, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of matrimony? Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honor, and keep her in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?”
Corbyn’s vow was as firm and steady as his eyes. “I will.”
He really means it. She’d seen Corbyn lie for her before, though he’d never been particularly good at it. He hadn’t meant it when he’d declared his love on Jane’s front lawn, nor when he’d promised Mama he would court her like a proper gentleman that night at supper. But no one could deny the conviction in his voice now.
The promise was impossible. To forsake all others for as long as they lived? Even if Hannah decided to live on her own and never see him again? The promise was far too great to equal the three hundred pounds she’d promised him—it encompassed an entire lifetime.
The priest seemed to see right through Hannah as he continued, “Hannah Elizabeth Williams, wilt thou have this man to thy wedded husband, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of matrimony? Wilt thou obey him, and serve him, love, honor andkeep him in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?”
You’ve come this far. Don’t back down now.
“I will.” Hannah hoped she didn’t sound as uncertain as she felt. She’d never been particularly good at obeying and serving, but if she found any meaning in the words, it was in the part to keep only unto him. From their first meeting, Corbyn had shown her an understanding and kindness that she’d never found in another man. If she’d never met him, there would have been no one else for her. He was an exception.
They finished their vows, and Corbyn placed the wedding band upon Hannah’s finger, holding her hands steady when they trembled. Though his kiss before the assembled guests was chaste and proper, it summoned a wave of emotion from her heart.
After the priest had prayed over them, Hannah and Corbyn returned to the vestry to sign the certificate with her parents and their witnesses. As she wrote her maiden name for the last time, Hannah was struck by the finality of the act.
There was no going back now. Her course was set.
Nineteen
Mrs. Williams and Jane had prepared everything required for a wedding breakfast the night before, and they received about twenty people at the town house, mostly friends of Mrs. Williams. Silas had met enough of them during his feigned courtship that he didn’t feel entirely out of place.
As Silas and Hannah weren’t departing on a honeymoon, they dispensed with the usual custom of seeing the newlyweds off shortly after the cake was cut. Instead, Mr. Williams was the first to leave, pleading the need to begin the long voyage back to Devon before the day got too late. Jacob shook Silas’s hand and offered his congratulations before he left, though his father couldn’t bring himself to do the same. No matter. It was such a relief to be rid of the man that Silas wasn’t even annoyed by the snub.
He might have to see Mr. Williams every so often for Hannah’s sake, but if the man spent most of his life two hundred miles from this marriage, it would be the perfect distance.
Everyone at the breakfast was a little lighter without him, particularly Mrs. Williams, who smiled and laughed far more than Silas had ever seen her do before.
“Should we warn her that I’m not buying a commission?” he murmured to Hannah during a brief lull in the activity.
She observed her mother for a moment. “Let her enjoy the day. She’s been waiting for this for twenty-one years. I’ll tell her later.”
Once they’d passed about two hours receiving their guests, Hannah began to show signs of fatigue and Silas offered to take her back to his lodgings. She’d probably had enough of crowds to last her until next year.
Mrs. Williams said her farewells with tears in her eyes. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather I came with you, poppet? What if you need my help?”
“No, no, we’ve been over this,” Hannah insisted. “Jane and Eli need you far more than I do to watch Gloria in the evenings. And I’m only across the Thames, not the Atlantic.”
“You’ll visit often, though?”
“I promise.” Though Hannah squirmed in her mother’s embrace, her own eyes looked a little bright.
“You’ll take care of her for me, Mr. Corbyn.” Mrs. Williams dabbed at her tears with a handkerchief.
Silas assured her that he would, then ushered Hannah to their carriage. She collapsed gratefully against the seat, soaking up the silence. It looked like she could use the rest. Silas didn’t like to disturb her, so he observed Hannah quietly for a moment from his side of the carriage as they began the ride home.
She’d leaned her head back against the leather seat and closed her eyes, her veil trailing behind her like a pillow. She looked lovely. Silas felt a possessive sort of pleasure to see the opal necklace he’d given her resting just below the hollow of her throat, where her heartbeat pulsed gently. They were finally alone. He wanted to put his mouth there, but judged it wiser to be patient. He had all the time in the world now.
My wife.
He’d never given much thought to the possibility of marriage before he’d met Hannah. After all, what use was a wife before one had a fortune to support her? But the risk that she might have refused him had shaken Silas to his core. It still did. There had been a moment in the church just before the priest called for objections when he’d honestly wondered if something might still happen to snatch her away. If someone might realize that he wasn’t fit to stand beside a woman this fine.
But they didn’t. She’s mine now.
Silas had no sooner thought the words than he began to question them. They were married in name, but Hannah’s vow meant little if she’d only given it on the understanding that she would stay behind when he went to Burton.
