"I do," Clara said clearly, "despite his inability to maintain appropriate solemnity during important ceremonies."
"I'm being perfectly solemn," Gabriel protested.
"You just waggled your eyebrows at me."
"That was a facial twitch."
"That was suggestive eyebrow choreography."
The vicar loudly cleared his throat. "The rings, please?"
Edmund produced the rings.
"Repeat after me," the vicar instructed Gabriel. "With this ring, I thee wed."
"With this ring, I thee wed," Gabriel repeated, sliding the band onto Clara's finger, "and promise to only be moderately impossible for the rest of our lives."
"Gabriel," the vicar warned.
"My apologies… with this ring, I thee wed," Gabriel said properly, though his eyes were dancing with suppressed mirth.
Clara took his ring from Edmund. "With this ring, I thee wed," she said, sliding it onto his finger, "and promise to tolerate your moderate impossibility with good humor and occasional violent frustration."
"That's not the traditional vow," the vicar observed.
"Nothing about us is traditional," Clara replied.
"Fair point. By the power vested in me by the Church of England and the grace of God, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."
"Finally," Gabriel breathed, and pulled Clara into a kiss that was definitely not appropriate for church but was exactly what their audience had been hoping for.
The congregation erupted in cheers, applause, and what sounded like money changing hands as various bets were settled. When Gabriel finally released Clara, both of them were breathless and grinning.
"We're husband and wife,” Clara said, sounding slightly stunned.
“It appears my company is now secured for the duration.” Gabriel confirmed.
"For better or worse."
"Probably worse."
"Definitely worse, but entertainingly so."
They turned to face the congregation as husband and wife, and Gabriel was surprised to see genuine joy on most faces. Even the gossips looked pleased, probably because this gave them material for months.
As they walked back down the aisle, Gabriel heard various comments:
"She's made him smile properly…" "Haven't seen him this happy since before the war…" "The scar doesn't look so bad when he smiles…" "Think she's already breeding?" "Must be, with all that noise from the hall…"
"I can still hear you," Gabriel announced. “Let it be known, any breeding is purely hypothetical at this point."
"Gabriel!" Clara hissed, but she was laughing.
They emerged into brilliant winter sunshine, and the crowd followed, throwing rose petals that Mary and the other servants had prepared. Gabriel helped Clara into the decorated carriage, climbing in after her and immediately pulling her onto his lap.
CHAPTER 19
"That's not proper seating arrangement," Clara protested, though she made no effort to move.
