“Nora,” Cecil interrupted gently. “You do not need to thank me. You are my sister, and I love you. Even when you make absolutely mad decisions like marrying a man who once plotted against our father – though he might have deserved it.”
“He has changed,” Nora said, feeling the need to defend her choice even now.
“I know,” Cecil said, and there was something almost like fondness in his voice. “He has grovelled sufficiently for me to believe his sincerity. And more importantly, he makes you happy. That is all I have ever wanted for you.”
By the doors stood Gregory, looking rather stuffy in his fancy clothes. Cecil barely acknowledged him as he whispered to Nora,
“Are you sure?”
Nora nodded and Cecil relinquished his hold over her, allowing Gregory to step into his place. When she had decided to let her father walk her down the aisle, she had done so simply because she did not want to feel as though she owed him anything else.
This final act would seal off her expectations of him, forever.
Gregory did not say anything, simply took hold of her hand and wrapped it around his arm. Soon, the church doors opened, and the first strains of music drifted out to greet them. Her heart began to race, anticipation and joy mixing until she felt almost dizzy with it.
Her father led her forward, and as they crossed the threshold into the church, Nora's gaze immediately found Godric.
He stood at the altar, utterly handsome in his formal attire, and the expression on his face when he saw her made her breath catch in her throat. It was a look of such profound love, such complete devotion, that she felt tears spring to her eyes despite her best efforts to remain composed.
Despite the pews that were packed with her friends and their families, her brother, her sisters and their husbands her attention remained fixed on Godric. Her eyes never left her face, on the slight trembling of his hands that suggested he was as affected by this moment as she was.
And then, suddenly, they were at the altar. Gregory was placing her hand in Godric's, the transfer of trust and responsibility palpable in the gesture. As Nora glanced at her father who was returning to the pews to sit, she was shocked to see tears glistening in his eyes.
Slowly, he met her gaze, she saw something she had rarely witnessed from him; genuine emotion.
He stepped forward again, his movements stiff and uncertain, and for a moment simply looked at her. Then, slowly, he wrapped his arms around her in an embrace that was awkward but sincere.
“Be happy,” he whispered, his voice thick. “Despite everything I have failed to give you, despite the father I should have been but was not... please, be happy.”
Nora felt her throat tighten with emotion. “Papa,” she breathed, using the childish term of endearment she had not employed in years.
Gregory pulled back, and she saw that his eyes were indeed wet with unshed tears. Then he turned to Godric, his expression hardening slightly.
“Take care of her,” he said, and though his voice was quiet, there was unmistakable command in it. “She deserves far better than what I have given her. See that you provide it.”
“I will,” Godric promised, his own voice rough. “I swear it on my life. She will want for nothing, least of all love and devotion.”
Gregory studied him for a long moment, then nodded once. “See that you do.” With that, he stepped back, retreating to his place among the assembled guests.
Nora stared after him, still processing the unexpected display of paternal affection. She had never seen her father show such emotion, had long ago resigned herself to the fact that Gregory Wightman was simply not capable of the warmth and involvement she craved from a parent.
But perhaps, she thought, people were more capable of change than she had given them credit for.
“Nora,” Godric murmured, drawing her attention back to him. “Are you well?”
She looked up at him and smiled, feeling the happiness settle back over her like a warm blanket.
“I am perfect,” she said truthfully. “I have my whole family here, and I am about to marry the man I love. How could I be anything but perfect?”
The ceremony proceeded rather quickly. Nora made her vows with a steady voice, meaning every word with a depth that surprised even her. And when Godric spoke his own promises, looking into her eyes with such intensity that the rest of the world seemed to fall away, she felt something fundamental shift inside her.
This was real. This was forever. And she had never been more certain of anything in her life.
When the vicar finally pronounced them husband and wife, Godric did not wait for permission to kiss his bride. He pulled Nora into his arms and claimed her lips with a passion that was probably inappropriate for a church but that she could not bring herself to care about.
When they finally broke apart, both breathing hard, Godric rested his forehead against hers.
“Mine,” he murmured, so quietly that only she could hear. “Finally, irrevocably mine.”
