“Methinks this is unfair.” He should not be forced to marry when he did not want that.
If he was willing to do this, who was she to say no? No to a chance to love him truly? No to the fulfillment of a dream? No when she knew in her heart that she loved this man?
It felt as if he had always held a secret place in her heart. The secret place needing only to be awakened by him. By his touch. By his smile. His arrival in her life had been planned long ago.
If she were completely honest with herself, she would admit she wanted to be married to him. She wanted to bear his children. She wanted to make him as happy as his mere smile did for her.
Brighit sighed in defeat. “As you wish, my lord.”
He placed a gentle kiss on her cheek before brushing her lips with his own.
“We’ll have no more of that.” This time it was Tadhg’s voice that carried across the hall. “I believe that’s what has gotten you into this predicament to begin with.”
Peter winked, a mischievous look on his face. He took her hand and tucked it into the crook of his arm, then turned to face his future brother-in-law. “Let us proceed.”
The walk to the chapel seemed to take an eternity. The sounds around Brighit became muffled. The faces of the smiling sisters around them seemed distant even as they surrounded her, guiding her to a little room behind the altar. It was tiny with just enough room for three of them. Ruth had returned and, with Martha, pulled off Brighit’s dress. The touch of the cold air on her skin seemed as if it were happening to someone else. Martha pushing down a chemise that smelled of lilacs. Its flimsy material confusing Brighit. When she looked down at herself, it was as if she wore nothing at all.
The thought of protesting vanished when the softest material she’d ever felt was being pulled over her head. Its blue color was the same as a robin’s eggs. It slipped over her hips, just touching the tips of her feet. Martha helped her into doeskin slippers.
“You look lovely.” Their exclamations seemed a step behind their jubilant expressions.
Brighit rubbed her eyes. Their laughter erupted in the small chamber.
Ruth was brushing her hair. Martha was using a cloth on her face.
“You’re pale. Do not worry so.” The older woman moved close to her ear. “I know Peter will be kind to you.”
The reality of what she implied was like a slap in the face. “You know?”
“What do you speak of?”
“That the deed has not been done?”
Martha tipped her head with that knowing smile.
Then Ruth stood beside her with that same smile. “It is as I said.”
“And I still should go through with this?”
Ruth hugged her close. “Yes.”
The door opened and she stepped into the dimly lit room. Peter sat over a small table topped with quill and ink. Tadhg bent over to watch him as he signed the document then rocked a small, curved board over the vellum. When he stood, he clasped hands with her brother. Peter smiled and surveyed the document as if surveying a great deed he had accomplished.
“Sister. You look lovely.” Tadhg’s familiar voice seemed to break the spell. He stepped forward and took her hands. He kissed her lightly on the cheek as he had before she departed from Ireland. That seemed like years ago. So much had transpired.
Peter surveyed her. His chest seeming to fill then bashfully took one hand. “May we partake of the Lord’s supper to seal our bond?”
“Who will serve—?”
“I have it prepared.” Martha stepped forward. “God’s blessing will be upon this marriage.”
Tadhg put his arm around his sister opposite Peter and stepped with them to the small altar. A single candle flickered. Martha came forward for the blessing, broke the bread and blessed the cup, then offered it to all present. Her Latin was impeccable. She would be a splendid Prioress.
Then with the Holy Scriptures in her hands, she tipped her head and smiled. “Where two or more are gathered in His name, His holy presence is assured. Let us speak the prayer Jesus taught us.”
Fæder ure þu þe eart on heofonum
Si þin nama gehalgod
