Through Each Tomorrow, page 26
“I’m not sure, but it can’t be past seven.”
“Seven?” I looked toward the window. “Then we haven’t slept long.”
“You can sleep longer, if you’d like.”
I slowly shook my head. “I need to use the necessary. And I’m hungry.”
He stood and offered me his hand, helping me off the ground.
When I was on my feet, I touched my hair, smoothing back the loose strands.
Andrew smiled. “You look beautiful.”
I slowly lowered my hand and returned his smile. “Thank you.”
He went to the door and placed his hand on the knob but paused. “’Tis a risk to be seen in the tavern together. ’Tis still early enough, though, so hopefully there won’t be many people here. We’ll sit in a quiet corner and hope we’re not noticed.”
Andrew opened the door, and we both stepped into the narrow hallway.
Everything looked different in the daylight as we walked down the hall to the stairway. It was enclosed and just as narrow as everything else in the inn. Andrew allowed me to walk ahead of him, but he reached out and grasped my waist when I stumbled over a broken floorboard.
I briefly closed my eyes, loving the protective feel of his hands on me. I wasn’t sure if he was aware of what his touch did to me, but I never wanted him to stop.
When we entered the tavern, I was relieved to see that there were few people inside. The innkeeper was behind the bar, and there were two tables with patrons, all men, who were eating breakfast. Everyone looked up at our arrival, but I kept my face lowered, while Andrew kept his hand on me.
The innkeeper told me where to find the necessary, so I slipped out the side door as Andrew ordered our meal.
The humidity was still thick, and the heat was oppressive as I quickly took care of my needs and then left the necessary and entered the yard. Farnham Heath was a significant village, and people were busy on the street.
As I walked toward the inn, a man caught my attention. He stood out among the commoners, dressed like a nobleman with his richly colored clothing and feathered hat. He was limping as he walked toward the inn, scanning the street—until he saw me and paused.
My heart thudded to a stop as I recognized him.
Lord Wolverton.
I quickly stepped into the inn as dread filled my heart.
Andrew sat at a table in the corner. He smiled at my arrival, but his smile quickly fell. “What’s wrong?”
“Lord Wolverton,” I said as I bumped into a chair, trying to get to Andrew. “He’s here—outside.”
The door to the inn opened and Lord Wolverton’s gaze swept the room, falling on me and then on Andrew.
Andrew rose from his chair and put his arm out, as if to protect me.
Lord Wolverton stood at the open door, allowing light to filter into the dim tavern.
The innkeeper and the other patrons stared at him, and then looked at Andrew and me.
No one said a word.
Finally, Andrew stepped away from the table. “Perhaps we should take this conversation outside.”
The innkeeper looked disappointed.
Andrew turned and offered me his hand. I took it, tentatively, a question in my eyes.
We walked out of the tavern and met Lord Wolverton on the road, but Andrew didn’t stop there. He led me around the side of the tavern to the backyard, where the necessary was located.
“What is the meaning of this?” Lord Wolverton asked, his face red from anger. He was limping hard as he followed us. “Lady Cecily, I knew you loved him, but I didn’t think you would be foolish enough to anger the queen and throw your life away for him.”
Despite the threat of being discovered, something softened in Andrew’s eyes. Didn’t he know I loved him?
“Well?” Lord Wolverton asked.
Andrew turned back to him. “How did you find us?”
“I followed you,” he said, as if it was obvious. “I couldn’t sleep last night and was on the terrace to try to get some relief from the heat. I saw you leave with a bag and suspected that you were running off together to elope.”
A bag? He hadn’t known it was a baby? No matter what happened, Lord Wolverton could not find out about the queen’s child.
“But I didn’t get far before I twisted my ankle,” he said with a growl as he motioned to his leg. “I was too far away from Windsor Castle to turn back, so I asked for the nearest village to find a horse and was told to come here.” He glared at Andrew. “Imagine my surprise to see Lady Cecily in this repulsive place. If you are going to marry her in secret, the least you could do is treat her like the lady she is and bring her to decent lodgings.”
“Marry?” Andrew asked.
I squeezed his hand to quiet him.
Lord Wolverton’s eyes opened wide. “Surely you are married!” He took a menacing step forward and then winced. “If you have taken her virtue and not married her—”
“He would never take my virtue.” My heart pounded so hard, I was afraid I might faint. If the news returned to the castle that Andrew and I were married—and then people found out it wasn’t true—we’d be in more trouble than we already were. But I didn’t know what else to say. “Of course we’re married.”
Andrew studied me, a thousand questions in his eyes. Finally, he turned to Lord Wolverton. “This was the closest location we could get to before daylight. My wife needed to rest.”
It was one thing to lie to the innkeeper, but another entirely to lie to Lord Wolverton. The innkeeper would have no way of knowing if it was true. Lord Wolverton, on the other hand, could easily demand proof.
“I have never been more appalled or disappointed in my life,” Lord Wolverton said to me. “To think I’ve wasted all this time. Why didn’t you just tell me that my suit would be rejected?”
I pressed my lips together, realizing how close I’d come to promising to marry him. If I had, and then I’d ended up here with Andrew, Lord Wolverton could have demanded Andrew’s arrest. An engagement was almost as binding as a marriage, and a commoner running off with a nobleman’s wife was unimaginable.
“I’m sorry, my lord,” I told him, truly contrite. “I did not mean to hurt you.”
“I’m not hurt,” he spat. “Just angry and disappointed.” His jaw muscles twitched. “And in need of a horse so I can go back to Windsor and gather my things to return to Alnwick.” His lips turned down in a scowl as he said, “The queen will be made aware of this union as soon as I reach the castle.”
And with those portending words, he limped away from the inn.
I still held Andrew’s hand as I turned to him. “I’m sorry I had to tell him we were married,” I whispered. “I didn’t know what else to say. He couldn’t know about the baby.”
“What will Charles think when he hears? It was bad enough that I kept you overnight in an inn.”
“There was no other excuse for us leaving in the middle of the night,” I continued, realizing the ramifications of my reckless statement could haunt me forever. I let go of Andrew’s hand, panic tightening my throat. “There’s nothing else to be done, Andrew. We’ll need to be married before we return to the castle. If we don’t have proof, things will be far worse for both of us.”
“I could not do that to you. You are a noblewoman, Cecily. The queen would never approve, and I could not be the cause of your ruin.”
“We are doing this for the queen. Surely she’ll understand when we explain what happened. She knows why we left the castle, and Kat will vouch for us.”
He lifted his troubled gaze to me. “I hope you’re right, but she will still be forced to punish us. What would people think if she simply allowed a secret marriage between her maid of honour and a lowly doctor? It would draw unwanted questions.”
I nibbled my bottom lip as I realized he spoke the truth. The queen could not let this go unpunished if she didn’t want to raise suspicions. Would marrying Andrew make things better or worse?
“But if Lord Wolverton tells the castle he saw us together,” Andrew added, “and we do not have a marriage certificate, it would be detrimental to your reputation. The marriage would need to be in name only, and once I leave 1563 and you become a widow, at least you can still marry a nobleman. But if we do not have a marriage certificate, you will be ostracized, and no one would marry you then.”
My breath caught as his words pierced my heart.
As soon as he left.
Even if Andrew married me, he would still choose 1883. Nothing had changed.
But he was right. It would be better to be a widow of a commoner than a fallen woman.
“I think we must marry, Andrew. We have few other options.”
We looked at each other for several seconds before Andrew said, “Only if you’re certain.”
I nodded, though my heart was breaking. This was not how I had imagined this moment.
It took us all day to find a vicar who was willing to perform a wedding ceremony without the reading of the banns, or a special license from the bishop of the diocese. In the end, we were able to persuade a vicar in Wexham, about three miles away from Farnham Heath, with the bag of coins Kat had given me the night before.
He told us to return around dusk so we drew less attention.
As the sun set, Andrew and I stood in a little stone chapel in Wexham, with the vicar’s sweet wife acting as witness.
I had tried to freshen up, but my gown was a mess, and I was exhausted from the lack of sleep. It was not the wedding of my dreams—yet, when I stood facing Andrew, none of it mattered. I was marrying the boy I had loved as a child and the man I had fallen in love with again as a young woman. My heart wanted to burst with joy, yet my mind tempered those feelings by reminding me that this wasn’t going to be a real marriage. It would be in name only. A way to protect me once he was gone.
His brown eyes were warm and gentle as he took my hands in his. “I, Andrew Patrick Bromley, will have and hold you from this day forward.” His voice was so serious, full of such conviction, my heart wanted desperately to believe this was real. “For better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health.” He paused again as his hands tightened around mine. “To love and to cherish you, Lady Cecily,” he said tenderly, “till death us do part.”
Tears stung my eyes, wishing that he was not marrying me out of obligation, but because he wanted to spend his life with me, all of it.
“’Tis your turn, Lady Cecily,” the vicar said to me.
I repeated after him as I looked deeply into Andrew’s eyes. Perhaps he couldn’t promise me forever, but I could promise it to him. My vows could be real. “I, Cecily Abigail Pembrooke, take thee, Andrew Bromley, to be my wedded husband.” I inhaled. “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.”
“Forasmuch as Andrew and Cecily have consented together in holy wedlock,” the vicar said, “and have witnessed the same before God and this company, and thereto have given and pledged their troth, each to the other, and have declared the same by joining of hands; I pronounce that they be man and wife together, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost.” He made a cross with his hands. “Amen.”
“Amen,” I whispered.
“Amen,” Andrew echoed.
The vicar said a final prayer, and then he nodded and smiled as his wife joined us to give her best wishes.
“You’re a lovely couple,” she said with a knowing smile. “If this one isn’t a happy union, Thomas is in the wrong business.”
“My dear,” the vicar said with a laugh, “of course it will be a happy union. Just look at them.”
They turned their approving smiles on us, and I felt like an imposter as Andrew entwined our fingers and stepped closer to me.
“Thank you,” he said to the vicar, handing him the bag of coins. “We appreciate your willingness to marry us so quickly.”
“Of course.” He handed Andrew the marriage certificate. “Go in peace.”
We left the little chapel and stepped into the hot August evening. The sun had set, but there was a bit of light in the western sky, turning the world a soft shade of pink.
In less than twenty-four hours, my world had shifted. I had the very thing my heart desired, yet it was just a mirage. Something that would disappear as if it had never been.
“Do you want to go back to Windsor this evening?” he asked quietly.
I shook my head. “The damage has already been done. The sooner we return, the sooner we will face punishment.”
I felt a yawn come over me, but I tried to hide it from him.
“You haven’t slept,” he said. “You need some rest.”
“You need rest, too.”
“Truth be told, I’m uneasy about going to bed. No doubt word has gotten back to Windsor Castle and Charles knows what we’ve done. I’ll have to face him in 1883 tomorrow, and he will be very angry.”
“Angry is an understatement.” I would have to face him, too, but he would not be as kind or understanding with Andrew.
“Let’s find an inn for a proper meal and some rest,” he said. “Our fate will await us later.”
He offered his arm, and I accepted it. We walked down the lane to the village center with the soft glow of sunset all around us. And though our wedding wasn’t planned or desired—at least by Andrew—everything felt different. For better or worse, I had a husband, the man I loved. Even if he wasn’t planning to stay in 1563, I had him until his birthday in December. Four months.
It wasn’t long, but I wouldn’t be the first or last bride to lose a husband so quickly. Might I persuade him to love me, for the short time we had left?
I had taken my marriage vows seriously. I would love him and honor him until death parted us. Despite my earlier intentions, I wanted a real marriage, no matter what that meant.
But how did I convey that to Andrew? And what if he didn’t want what I wanted?
We found a quaint inn and ordered a warm meal. This time, I didn’t feel a twinge of guilt when Andrew called me his wife or asked for a single room to share. We were married in the eyes of God and man, a reality that sent a bittersweet thrill up my spine.
When our meal was done, we walked up the steps to the second floor and Andrew unlocked our room.
Though it was small, this room was clean and well kept.
I stepped inside, a candle in my hand, as Andrew followed me and closed the door.
My pulse was thrumming as I tried to even out my breathing.
“I’ll sleep on the floor again,” he said. “You should have the bed.”
I slowly turned to him, a new thought on my mind.
Was he betrothed or married to someone else in 1883? Was that why he didn’t want to make our marriage real?
“Andrew,” I said tentatively, not sure how to approach the topic as I set the candle on a nearby table.
“Aye?”
“Are you—do you—”
He lowered himself to the ground and settled against the wall. “What are you trying to ask me, Cecily?”
It didn’t pay to circle the issue. We were married now. I would need to be open and honest with him, no matter how uncomfortable it might be. “Do you love someone else? Someone in 1883? Are you married or betrothed there?”
His face was serious as he said, “No.”
I walked across the small room and slowly lowered myself to the ground, facing him.
He watched me, his thoughts unreadable.
I was being bold, but I didn’t care. I’d already lost 1913 and was facing the loss of the man I loved in December. I was tired of playing coy and unaffected. I was ready to make my life what I desired. We would face consequences for our marriage, so why not enjoy the benefits from it?
Gently, I reached for his hand and whispered, “I want to have a real marriage, Andrew.”
Several emotions warred within his eyes as he laced his fingers through mine. Desire, regret, joy, sadness. “You know I can’t stay, Cecily.”
“I don’t care.” I moved a little closer to him. “I want you, for as long as I can have you. I love you.”
He groaned quietly as he placed his hand on my face and leaned his forehead against mine. “I love you, too,” he said softly. “And as much as I want to be selfish and have you for myself, I know I can’t promise you forever.”
“No one can promise forever,” I whispered, tears in my eyes. “We don’t know what the future holds.”
“I know it doesn’t hold a place for me here.” His voice was strained as he lifted his forehead off mine. “If I could choose you and 1563, I would do it in a heartbeat, without a second thought. But I’ve always known I have a responsibility to my family in 1883, Cecily. I can’t be selfish there, either.”
I placed my hand over his and closed my eyes, knowing he was right. I was being selfish, asking him for something he couldn’t give me. Even if we lived as man and wife for the next four months, there was the chance of a child, and it would be even harder for him to leave me and an unborn baby behind.
“Cecily.” He put his other hand on my cheek and lifted my face toward his. “Your title was stripped from you today. You are no longer a lady, and as soon as the queen learns about your marriage to a commoner, you will no longer have a place in her court. We will be required to return to Arundel Castle, and you will be a commoner in a place where you were once the daughter of an earl. I’ve already taken so much from you.”
“You’ve taken nothing that I haven’t freely given. If you recall, it was I who told Lord Wolverton we were married. I was the one who got us into this mess.”
He caressed my cheeks with his thumbs. “If you recall,” he said, “I didn’t put up much of a fight.” With a sigh, he added, “But I cannot risk leaving you with a child and no way to support it. I love you too much to give you that life.”
I took a deep breath and nodded as I lowered my gaze, embarrassed that I’d even asked for more.
He put his finger under my chin and lifted it until I looked at him.
“But I took my vows seriously when I said them today.” He spoke softly. “I will have and hold you from this day forward. For better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health.” He moved his thumb from my cheek to my lips and brushed them, sending a shiver down my spine. “I will love you and cherish you, until my last breath—here and in 1883.”
