Syd began to nibble her lip.
Octavian groaned. “Syd, please. Do not give me a hard time about this.”
“Two weddings?”
He nodded.
She leaned close, pretending to hug him and whispered, “Does this mean we must divorce twice?”
“No, only one divorce…but it will never happen,” he growled back softly.
She threw her arms around him and kissed him brazenly on the lips. “Of course, I will marry you. In the sight of all these people, I will declare how much I–”
A cheer arose among the crowd.
Everyone thought she had finished the thought and declared how much she loved him. In truth, she had stopped herself before uttering the word ‘love’. Octavian swallowed that kernel of disappointment. In truth, it did not matter. He knew she lovedhim. She did not have to declare it because it was evident in so many important ways.
Still, it would have been nice to hear it from her lips.
The fair would go on for one more day.
Fair goers would start leaving by midday tomorrow as the hawkers, musicians, and farmers began to break down their tents and animal pens.
Octavian invited everyone to join them in front of Melrose Abbey at ten o’clock the following morning.
For this, he had brought Syd all the way to Scotland.
He’d loved her from the moment he’d set eyes on her and vowed to himself to protect her always. She was his and there would be no undoing of either the first ceremony taking less than a minute in the blacksmith shop, or this one in full sight of three of the major lowlands clans.
The usually sleepy town of Melrose was known for little other than its once magnificent Melrose Abbey that now lay in ruins. Well, the area was beautiful, and he and Syd might have enjoyed riding over its hills and dales and across its glistening streams if they weren’t in such a rush for time.
A light breeze swept across the hills and nearby meadows.
The sun shone brightly down on them once again as they stood before the ruins of the abbey on the following day.
The Armstrong laird himself officiated the ceremony.
Octavian had no idea whether or not he had actual authority, but it did not matter. He was already lawfully married to Syd. Even if he were not, this ceremony would have been considered a hand-fasting, which was as good as a marriage ceremony under Scottish law.
The laird recited several prayers, a Scottish poem, then gave a sermon on the importance of faithfulness and trust. At last, he brought the ceremony to an end with some all-important finalwords. “Captain Thorne, in the eyes of God and all these good people, do ye take Lady Sydney Harcourt to be yer lawful wife?”
“I do.”
“Will ye honor her and protect her for all the days of yer life?”
“I will.”
He then turned to Syd who looked like an angel in her gown of rose merino wool, a gown she had donned with pride this morning, especially now that she was the proud owner of ten merino sheep. Those would officially be turned over to Laird Armstrong after this ceremony.
Syd had let her hair down, the lovely, tumbling mane gleaming a rich, golden-red as the sun illuminated every silken strand. Her hair was adorned with nothing more than a circlet of flowers. “Lady Sydney Harcourt do ye take Captain Octavian Thorne as yer lawful wedded husband?”
Her eyes sparkled as she studied him, looking him up and down, and obviously deciding he looked splendid in his navy dress uniform. He did not usually wear his medals, but always carried them with him, and had pinned them onto his jacket in honor of his wedding. “I do,” Syd said, her smile achingly beautiful.
“Will ye honor him and…och, lass, we all know how contrary ye can be. Will ye promise to obey him sometimes?”
The crowd laughed.
“Yes,” she said with another beaming smile. “For better or for worse. In sickness and in health. I shall always honor him and be faithful to him, for he shall always have my heart even if he does not always have my agreement.”
