Philip scowled. “Is that a riddle because you just did put a price on it. At least on the ceremony if not on love itself, no matter if this be a practical Smithfield bargain or a marriage of two destined hearts.”
Mr. Lang laughed as if Philip had said something amusing.
“Come stand before the anvil,” he entreated, taking his place on the other side of it. “What are your names and where is your permanent abode?”
“I thought you knew both our names and where we’re from,” Miranda said. “My father told you.” She glanced at Sir William who nodded.
“I have to ask, miss, but you go first, my lord.”
Philip could hardly believe the ceremony was starting. He was truly getting married. Strangely, he didn’t feel the expected churning in his gut.
“Philip Mercer of London.” Then he looked at Miranda. “Hold on a minute. Miss Bright likes her bonnet straight.” And he carefully set it to rights for her.
“Thank you,” she said softly.
He winked at her, hoping she wasn’t filled with regret. “Your turn,” he reminded her.
She coughed softly into her gloved hand then spoke, “Miranda Bright of London.”
“Are you both single?” Mr. Lang asked.
“You know we are,” Miranda said.
The blacksmith threw his hands in the air and turned to her father.
“You’ve raised a right sauce-mouth, and no mistake.”
“I am single,” Philip said steadily, glancing at Miranda to follow suit.
“I am single,” she confirmed.
“Did you come here of your own free will and accord?”
“I’ve just determined that fact, Mr. Lang,” Miranda’s father said. “You may continue.”
The blacksmith rolled his eyes. “I’m askingthem, and I needthemto answer. I must tell you this is the longest wedding I’ve ever performed.”
Miranda laughed softly, and Philip smiled to hear her. It was a pretty sound, one he would get to hear often, he hoped.
“I came of my own free will,” he said.
“As did I,” Miranda added.
“Simon, bring me a certificate and a pen, boy. Hurry up. Your mother will have our dinner on the table, I expect.”
The lad snatched up the requested items from a nearby cabinet and brought them to his father, who scrawled a few illegible words. Philip presumed it was their names.
“Do you take this woman to be your lawful wedded wife, forsaking all others, keeping to her as long as you both shall live?”
Philip glanced sideways to see Miranda staring at him, her gorgeous hazel eyes as big as saucers. He hadn’t expected any traditional words, only a mere handfasting as if they were country clodhoppers.
“I will,” he said, surprised at his own husky tone and heightened emotions as he looked at the woman who was rapidly becoming his wife.
“Do you take this man to be your lawful wedded husband, forsaking all others, keeping to him as long as you both shall live?”
“I will,” Miranda answered, her voice a little too quiet for Philip’s liking.
“Take hold of each other’s hands,” Mr. Lang instructed. “What God and I have joined together, let no man put asunder.” Then he paused, before adding, “Do either of you have a ring?”
