Page 25 of His Bluestocking Bride

Even if she did not marry for love, and Marcus had no intention of allowing such feelings into their arrangement, Ellen could find contentment in their partnership.

The vicar’s sermon felt like it went on much longer than usual. Yet the priest said, at the last, “And now, for the most choice of sermons, we have the blessing of witnessing the marriage vows between the Honorable Mr. Marcus Calvert and our own Miss Ellen Bringhurst. The wedding couple invites all who wish to attend to stay and bear witness.”

Ellen rose on the arm of her father and noted that no one took the opportunity to leave. The members of their community looked on with warmth and smiles. She saw the Falkhams seated in a pew behind her, and her sisters sat in their customary places next to their husbands. She wished her mother and Dorothea might have come.

Marcus joined her at the front of the church, gently accepting her arm from her father. Then he took the last step with her to stand before the vicar.

Ellen tried to pay attention to each and every word as the vicar recited from the Book of Common Prayers. But she kept glancing at Marcus, standing straight and firm beside her. He looked every inch the perfect groom, from his freshly-cropped hair to his polished black shoes. He wore a suit of deepest blue with a gold vest. His snow-white cravat was tied in an elegant, cascading fashion with a sapphire stickpin holding it in place.

At last came the vows and Ellen’s heart stuttered.

“Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honor, and keep her, in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?”

“I will.” Marcus said those two words evenly, without reservation, promising something he told her he could never give.

Ellen had not thought of the vows until that moment.

She wanted to wilt where she stood. Draw back, declare it could not be so. Instead, she murmured her own promise. “I will.” But it must have been loud enough to satisfy the vicar. He did not even pause in his recitation.

Ellen would keep her vows. She already loved Marcus, after all.

Marcus took her hand and repeated after the minister, looking her directly in the eye as he spoke. “I, Marcus James Calvert, take thee, Ellen Bringhurst, to be my wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or worse, for richer or 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.”

Ellen’s knees went weak and her mouth dry. Could she really give herself to him, hearing such beautiful vows and knowing they were not true? How could he cherish her without love?

She said her part without thinking on it. She repeated as she was bade, held out her hand to receive her ring, knelt and bowed her head as the minister prayed over them, giving his blessing and God’s on their union.

The wedding ceremony went on and on, with Ellen doing her best to keep her eyes trained straight ahead. Could she fulfill her vows without love?

Marcus must’ve sensed her wandering thoughts—he gave her arm a gentle squeeze, bringing her back enough that she glanced at him. His lips twitched slightly and his eyes met hers, amusement twinkling in them.

How could he be amused at this, the most serious moment of her life?

Ellen’s spine stiffened and her eyes darted back to the vicar, her whole body attuned to his every word. Here she had stood, taking the situation most seriously, losing herself in thought of how to accomplish all she promised, and he looked as though he were enjoying the whole thing as some sort of show.

The vicar finished at last and put his final blessing upon them and presented them to the congregants as husband and wife. The music began, the people assembled raising their voices in a final hymn.

Ellen and Marcus followed the vicar into the rectory where they signed the church register. Ellen realized it would be her last time to sign her maiden name, Ellen Bringhurst, on any document. From now on, she would be Ellen Calvert.

Her head threatened to set the world to spinning, but Ellen tamped down on the odd sensation.

“I thought we lost you in the middle of the sermon,” Marcus said as they stepped back into the chapel. “Your eyes looked far beyond the church. What were you thinking about?”

Ellen eyed him for a moment before adjusting her bonnet. “I was thinking that we were both making a great deal of promises and that I must be sure to remember them all.” She pulled her cape closer about her and looked out the church doors where she could see her family and neighbors gathered, a small arbor held up by her brothers-in-law for them to walk beneath. “We should hurry. All those poor people in the cold are waiting on us.”

He leaned forward, trying to catch her eye, but she ignored him and put her hand on his arm. “My sisters shouldn’t stand in the weather overlong.”

He made a sound of agreement and escorted her outside. Cheers erupted around them, ladies waved handkerchiefs, the arbor was hoisted upward. Ellen glanced up at Marcus to see him offering a large grin to the crowd, waving his free hand at everyone, whether he knew them or not. As though he was incredibly happy.

Gaining his inheritance must mean a great deal to him.

She forced her smile but kept her head ducked as they climbed into the carriage. Marcus settled in beside her, tucking a carpet around their legs after the door swung shut. “One more ordeal before we can go home,” he said cheerfully, sharing his smile with her.

Was that all it had been to him? An ordeal? Of course. It was a necessary step to gain what he most wanted. His inheritance. “The breakfast. Yes. We need not stay long, if you wish.”

“These are your neighbors,” he said, sitting back in his seat. “I think you ought to determine the time spent with them.”

She waved a hand dismissively, turning her attention to the window of the carriage. “It need only be enough for us to eat a little. I would like to get our journey underway as soon as possible.” The trip to Orchard Hill would take a total of twelve hours on the road, should the weather stay fine, which already necessitated a stop at a roadside inn.