A few minutes later, he slid off the bed and nestled the coif on her head. She got to her feet, tied the laces under her chin, and looked in the mirror. “You’ve worked a miracle, young man,” she exclaimed. “How did you manage to tame my errant locks?”
With a shrug, he sat down at the table. “I’m too nervous to eat,” he declared, staring at oatmeal that had long since gone cold. “I’m honored Mr. Pendray asked me to be his second, but I don’t really know what to do.”
“Reverend Grove will guide you,” she reassured him.
“Too bad Mrs. Ward isn’t here to give you away,” he mused.
Sarah unexpectedly experienced an astonishing pang of regret that her father wasn’t alive to walk her down the aisle.
They both startled when someone rapped on the front door. “Who can it be?” she asked, hoping for Munro’s calming presence, but that would be bad luck.
Giles ran down to turn the key in the lock. “It’s Mr. Addison,” he shouted.
There was no choice but to greet the visitor downstairs. She certainly didn’t want him to see the apartment.
When she reached the shop, he smiled broadly and brushed a kiss on her knuckles. “Vision of loveliness,” he crooned.
Sarah was thankful Munro wasn’t present.
Giles bristled when Justin appeared behind his father.
“My son has come to apologize to you and young Giles, and to thank you for saving his life.”
The red-faced youth mumbled the words he’d obviously been ordered to repeat, but his gaze remained fixed on his feet.
“You’ve been given a second chance,” she replied. “I hope you make good use of it.”
Justin nodded.
Giles snorted.
“Now, dear lady,” Addison continued, apparently satisfied with his son’s performance. “I’m aware your parents are both deceased.”
Her throat tightened. Had he learned the truth of her parentage?
“It would be my honor if you’ll allow me to walk you down the aisle.”
She almost laughed out loud. Sarah North, illegitimate daughter of a regicide being walked down the aisle by one of the richest men in Birmingham, nay in the whole Midlands. Even the gaping Giles seemed impressed. “It would be my honor,” she replied truthfully.
“And,” he declared, patting her hand. “My carriage is at your disposal for your journey to Scotland.”
The offer was more than generous but presented a difficulty. She wasn’t sure how Munro would feel about it. “That could be a long while from now,” she replied. “There’s the matter of the shop—”
He shook his head. “Well in hand, my dear. Well in hand. Ready to go?”
When Giles raced up the aisle and came to stand beside him at the front of the church, Munro knew Sarah had arrived. He retrieved the signet ring from his pocket and handed it to the boy. “Good thing the rain held off,” he remarked for want of something to say. “For the walk, I mean.”
“Oh, we came in a carriage,” Giles replied, slipping the ring on his thumb. “Mr. Addison’s. He’s walking Mrs. North down the aisle, and lending us his carriage to go to Scotland, and—”
He stopped speaking abruptly when Reverend Grove cleared his throat.
Distracted by Giles’ babbling, and concerned about the boy dropping the ring, Munro hadn’t noticed the cleric emerge from the vestry. Irritation stiffened his spine. Did Addison think him incapable of providing transportation for his new family? However, this wasn’t the moment to worry about that, and the notion of family brightened his thoughts. He had to admit he was glad Sarah wouldn’t have to walk down the aisle alone.
“She’s ready,” Grove whispered.
Munro turned, astonished when he saw the number of people who’d gathered for the ceremony. Every tradesperson in the neighborhood must have postponed opening in order to attend. Even Old Brown was there. Munro nodded when he caught sight of Luke standing on tiptoe next to Mrs. Richards, craning his neck to see.
The breath whooshed from his lungs when he set eyes on the beautiful woman walking towards him on Addison’s arm. If he’d had any misgivings about marrying without his parents’ knowledge or permission, they flew away like chaff on the wind. Sarah North…Ward…Marten…whatever her parentage…was his destiny. And she was wearing the simple red skirt and jacket that had drawn his eye at their first meeting. It was perfect.
He glanced briefly at Addison as he passed Sarah’s warm hand into his, wondering what it was about weddings that had grown men winking like fools. However, he was grateful for the iron baron’s thoughtfulness. “Thank ye,” he mouthed before giving his full attention to his bride.
“Dearly beloved,” Grove began, winking at Sarah.
Crivens!
“Dearly beloved, in the presence of God, we have come together to witness the marriage of Munro and Sarah, to pray for His blessing on them, to share their joy and to celebrate their love.”
Munro’s mind wandered during the minister’s lengthy preamble about the wedding at Cana and the sanctity of marriage, but became alert again when he asked if anyone knew of an impediment to the union.
He supposed every person about to be married cringed as the silence dragged on, expecting someone to loudly shout their objections. None came, of course, and he breathed again. He squeezed Sarah’s hand, sure she was as apprehensive as he, perhaps with greater cause.
“Therefore if either of you knows a reason why you may not lawfully marry, you must declare it now.”
Sarah sighed loudly and twirled her thumb in his palm.
“Munro, 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 to her, so long as you both shall live?”
“I will,” he replied, elated he was marrying a woman he truly loved.
“Sarah, 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, and keep him, in sickness and in health? And forsaking all other, keep thee only to him so long as ye both shall live?”
“I will,” she swore, and his heart swelled with the knowledge her promise was sincere.
“I now invite you to join hands and repeat after me.”
Munro looked into Sarah’s bright eyes and made his vows. “I, Munro Pendray, take thee, Sarah North, to my wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness, and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part, according to God’s holy ordinance, and thereto I plight thee my troth.”
Prompted by Grove, Sarah committed herself to him, never taking her eyes from his. “I, Sarah North, take thee, Munro Pendray, to my wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness, and in health, to love, cherish, and to obey, till death us do part, according to God's holy ordinance, and thereto I give thee my troth.”
Giles frowned when Grove lowered his prayer book and looked at him expectantly, but then seemed to recollect what he was supposed to do. He pulled the ring from his thumb and placed it on the book.
Grove offered the ring to Munro who slid it onto Sarah’s finger, saying, “With this ring I thee wed. With my body I thee worship, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow. Amen.”
Grove covered their joined hands with his own and declared, “Those whom God hath joined together, let no man put asunder. I pronounce that they be man and wife together.”
Sarah’s smile sent tiny winged creatures fluttering in Munro’s belly. “I’m the luckiest mon in the world,” he whispered as they shared a chaste kiss.
Banquet
“Ye’d think Addison was the one getting wed,” Munro remarked.
Floating on a cloud of happiness as she sat beside her new husband in the crowded dining room o
f The Swan, Sarah could only see the amusing side of their situation. “At least, you’re not paying for all these people to eat—and drink.”
“I told Richards there might be a handful of guests. The mon’s run off his feet trying to feed dozens.”
She squeezed his hand under the table. “Who can blame folk for taking advantage of Addison’s grand announcement he intended to pay for everything at the wedding banquet.”
He raised her hand to his mouth. “Ye’re right. But poor Luke is sweating, and Mrs. Richards looks none too happy.”
The warmth of his lips on her knuckles caused her heart to flutter, but she tried to keep her voice steady. “They understand it’s not our fault, and, in the end, The Swan will make a good profit. Our wedding will be the talk of the neighborhood for months. The stuff of legend.”
He nodded, but his jaw remained clenched. She wasn’t certain this was the time to bring up Addison’s cryptic remark about the shop, so she sought a safer topic. “Shall we tell Luke of our plans today?”
He lowered her hand and held it against the warm bulge at his groin. “I was hoping to have my wife all to myself for this one special night. I promised to worship ye with my body.”
The teasing in his blue eyes sent desire rippling into very private places, but she knew sexual congress with Munro Pendray would be more than a physical joining. This incredibly generous man did, indeed, worship her, and she thirsted for another taste of his magic touch.
But it wasn’t the resentful, afraid-of-her-own-shadow Sarah North he loved. If she was to be worthy of his adoration, she could never allow that coward to resurface. Sarah Pendray had vowed to make her husband the center of her existence. “We could let Giles spend the night in your room here.”
He wiggled his eyebrows. “And we go to the shop.”
“After we tell Luke, and let him stay with Giles. They can get to know each other.”
He kissed her forehead. “I’ll settle it with Richards.”
“Or we could send them to the shop and we stay here.”
He shook his head. “Nay. I intend to make ye scream with pleasure this night, wife. The walls are too thin here. Let’s see what Giles says.”
He beckoned the boy and explained their proposal. It boded well that Munro was willing to ask a boy’s opinion, but she hoped Giles couldn’t perceive the wanton images running through her head after Munro’s promise.
“I never slept in an inn before,” the lad replied with a grin. “It’ll be an adventure. Can I tell Luke?”
“Aye,” Munro answered. “But the two o’ ye best behave.”
Giles put a hand over his heart. “I swear it.”
Impatient to get his bride into their marriage bed, Munro began to think the afternoon would never end.
Richards achieved a miracle akin to the feeding of the five thousand. Addison spared no expense. He’d even hired a fiddler and it didn’t take long for the singing to begin.
Munro decided to let go of his rancor toward the industrialist and enjoy himself. This was his wedding day after all, and it gave him great pleasure to see Sarah tapping her feet and singing along.
He was prevailed upon to lead them in a song about Scotland, despite his protestations he wasn’t known for his vocal prowess. “I’ll give ye an old ballad called Blow Away The Morning Dew. I doot ye ken the words,” he began as he got to his feet, “but I’ll teach ye the chorus.”
And sing blow away the morning dew
The dew, and the dew.
Blow away the morning dew,
How sweet the winds do blow.
When he was satisfied they more or less had it, he cleared his throat and started.
There was a farmer's son,
Kept sheep all on the hill,
And he walk'd out one May morning
To see what he could kill.
He nodded and led them in the chorus, then embarked on the tale of the farmer’s son meeting a young maiden who pledged to be his alone. The crowd roared when they learned she promised him a kiss and 200 pounds if he accompanied her to her father’s house. On the way, they came across a haystack. Another roar went up when he looked at Sarah and sang ,“’twas a very pretty place for girls and boys to play”.
He winked at his bride and began the last verse. Mayhap winking was infectious.
But when they came to her father's gate,
So nimble she popped in:
And said: There is a fool without
And here's a maid within.
The final chorus was deafening.
As Munro regained his seat, Addison stood and gestured for quiet. “A fine tenor, Mr. Pendray. You’re too modest.”
Everyone clapped and cheered.
Sarah squeezed his arm. “That was wonderful.”
“I’ve never seen a haystack. Are they good places to play?” Giles asked innocently.
Munro chuckled. “Aye. Ye’ll see many a haystack in Scotland.”
“I now call on Reverend Grove to say a few words,” Addison declared.
Munro groaned inwardly. “I like Grove but he definitely isna a man of few words.”
Suppressing a smile, Sarah dug her fingers into his thigh. “Behave.”
Attentive at first, people began to fidget and squirm after ten minutes of the minister’s glowing remarks about the newly-married couple, the outstanding community of St. Martin’s, and Birmingham in general.
Munro worried about Luke. The lad looked exhausted. He was about to clear his throat to give Grove the hint he should wind up his talk.
Addison suddenly stood and put his hands together. “Well said, Reverend.”
The crowd joined in the applause.
Grove looked perplexed but regained his seat.
“At last,” Munro said. “We can—”
“And now I call upon our bridegroom to offer a toast to his bride.”
Munro stood, watching the flurry of activity as several sought to have their tankards refilled.
Richards appeared and thrust a goblet of red wine into Munro’s hand. “Addison insisted,” he explained.
Munro looked down at his wife’s flushed face and wayward curls. He silently thanked the iron magnate. Sarah deserved to be toasted with the finest wine. “I’m aware I’m the luckiest mon in Birmingham,” he began. “When I set off on a journey to visit the country of my father’s birth, little did I ken I was destined to meet Sarah. ’Tis easy to understand why I was smitten as soon as I set eyes on her.”
Murmurs of agreement wafted through the crowd.
“Sarah is beautiful to the eye, but there’s an inner beauty, a goodness, a caring for others that I’m certain ye’ve seen.”
“We have, we have indeed,” Addison shouted, prompting another round of cheering.
He risked a glance at his wife, swallowing the lump in his throat at the sight of Giles slumped against her, in tears. The mood was too somber. “Ye ken,” he said, hoping his jest would be understood, “there’s many in my homeland who’ll wonder why a Scot would wed an Englishwoman.” He paused, enjoying the puzzled looks on several faces. “But five minutes after they meet my wife, they’ll wonder why it took me so long.”
The resulting laughter wasn’t as hearty as he’d anticipated, so he decided to conclude his remarks. He raised his goblet. “To the woman who has made me the happiest man in the world. Sarah Pendray.”
The toast echoed around the room as folk lifted tankards and tumblers. Munro sipped the wine, then held the goblet to his wife’s lips, transfixed as they gazed into each other’s eyes. “Let’s hope we can escape soon,” he whispered.
“Aye,” she agreed.
The merriment continued and the ale flowed freely—until Richards announced his barrels had been drained dry. The crowd dispersed quickly.
Munro took Sarah’s hand and declared to the remaining guests, “My bride and I must leave now. We thank ye, Mr. Addison, for this special afternoon.”
His thanks sounded genuine. Sarah was glad he’d
evidently gotten over his resentment. The magnate saluted an acknowledgement.
Amid the clapping and cheering, she turned to Giles. “Find Luke, then join us in the room.”
He hurried off in the direction of the kitchens.
She squealed when Munro unexpectedly scooped her up and carried her up the steep stairs as if she weighed nothing. She clung to him, wishing he was taking her to bed at last and not to a rendezvous with two lads.
He sat in the chair. She felt the hard evidence of his desire beneath her bottom. For the first time in her life, she initiated the kisses. They explored each other’s mouths, tongues mating playfully, both breathing heavily. “I never knew kissing could be so pleasurable,” she admitted when they broke apart.
He placed his hand over her mons and pressed lightly. “Wait until I kiss you here.”
It was tempting to ignore the light tapping at the door as the room spun around her. He held her firm when she tried to climb off his lap. “They may as well get used to seeing us cuddling,” he said. “Come in.”
Giles entered, leading a wide-eyed Luke by the hand. It was a touching moment she would remember all her life.
“We’ve something to tell you,” Giles began, lifting Luke to sit on the edge of the bed.
The boy clasped his hands in his lap, little legs dangling.
“Mr. and Mrs. Pendray will be moving to Scotland once the shop is sold.”
Luke studied his bare knees, but said nothing. It was clear he was exhausted.
“Their hearts are so big, they’re taking me along with them.”
Luke sniffled. “I heard.”
“I wasn’t sure if I wanted to go, because I wouldn’t know anybody in such a foreign land.”
Munro chuckled.
“They asked if I’d like you to come along, too.”
Luke dragged his gaze from his knees. “Me?”
“I said yes.”
Luke slid off the bed, but fisted his hands in the counterpane. Sarah feared he might keel over from the shock. “What about Mr. Richards?”
Kingslayer's Daughter (The House of Pendray Book 2) Page 21