Page 43 of Anice’s Bargain

“Lovely” was not adequate. Even “beautiful” was lacking. She was like an angel in a gown of glittering gold and white, her blonde hair in perfect waves with part of it pushed back over her shoulders to expose more of her face.

“You are both of age, and the match is not consanguineous.” The priest looked up at him and blinked. “You are marrying of your own consent?”

“Aye,” James replied without thought.

“The dowry is in order?” The priest asked.

“Aye,” William said. “The coin is on its way to Carlisle as we speak, and the transfer of land will be complete as of this afternoon.”

The priest looked up at James once more and took a step back, as though realizing his own insignificant size beside the warrior. “The bag of gold?” he squeaked.

James pulled it from his pocket, grateful the bag was of quality leather rather than the aged ruddy one he’d carried his own coin about in for years. Anice unfurled her slender fingers and the weight of the bag settled into her white palm. Later, those coins would be handed out to the poor to ensure a blessing on their marriage.

“Thank you.” She smiled at him and James’s entire world melted away.

This woman, this exquisite creature whose beauty was such that it nearly hurt his eyes to gaze upon her, would be his wife. Today. In name, and…in bed.

He swallowed again.

“Let us proceed.” The priest then instructed them to return to the chapel and make the proper entrances.

They did as they were told, with Anice leading due to her family’s rank, and him following with only his father at his side. As their best swordsman, Drake stood by the church’s entrance to ensure all would go accordingly and without interruption.

The ceremony was performed mostly in Latin, a language James’s mother had forced him to learn. Regardless, he had never held affection for the language. It always felt like too many words jumbled into one’s mouth and ears. It was a short ceremony, an overwhelming affair in which one’s soul and eternity were quickly, and irrevocably, bound.

James drew the ring from the pouch at his belt, a slender gold band with a small blue gem. Keeping with custom, he placed it on the third finger of her right hand. With that token, they were wed, the deed needing only be sealed with a kiss.

In the years of James’s life, he had fought many battles. He had reived his fair share of livestock, hidden from the law for his misdeeds, and been chased by more Armstrongs than he cared to count. Through it all, he had maintained his calm the way a good warrior ought to. Calm breathing, a clear mind, a steady heartbeat.

Until now.

There, in front of many curious faces staring in their direction, James’s pulse thundered erratically. It continued as he gently tilted Anice’s chin upward, and even still as he lowered his mouth to hers. The touch of their lips was tender, soft, painfully erotic in its innocence and its significance.

She was his.