A Convenient Christmas Wedding. Regina Scott
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Simon shook his head, but her blush deepened. “Your brother is doing me a favor,” she murmured.
Simon was just glad to see Mr. Bagley hurrying through the door at the back of the church. A slight man with a head of bushy hair and an equally bushy beard over his chin, he nonetheless managed to exude a certain sense of propriety as he stopped before the altar and motioned them forward.
“Mr. Wallin, Miss Underhill,” he greeted with a look over his spectacles. “I know you are both of age. Are there any legal impediments to this marriage?”
“None,” Simon said with a look to Nora, who shook her head.
Mr. Bagley nodded. “And are you both in agreement to wed?” His look shot to Nora too.
Simon held himself still. If she had any reservations, now would be the time to state them. “Yes, Mr. Bagley,” she murmured, her face paling.
The minister nodded again. “And are you certain you must marry now? I believe I heard your brother and his wife will be arriving soon. Surely you’d prefer that he give you away.”
He made it sound as if Simon was dragging her to the altar. She positively squirmed; Simon could see her finery quivering. He was going to lose her, and while that might not have seemed such a bad thing when she had first made her bold proposal, now he was determined to win his family those acres.
He took her cold hand in his. “Nora has agreed to be my wife, Mr. Bagley. I don’t care who gives her away or who attends this wedding.”
The minister positively glowered over the top of his spectacles. “This is highly irregular, Mr. Wallin. I see your own mother and sister declined to attend. Is there some reason this wedding must be so rushed?”
Nora flamed, pulling her hand from Simon’s. “No, no reason. Really. I...” She glanced at Simon, her eyes pools of misery.
Simon had too much experience with people arguing with him to quail before the minister’s annoyance. He drew himself up to his full height, dwarfing everyone else in the room. “You have the information for our marriage certificate, Mr. Bagley. We are both of age and willing to wed. If that’s not enough for you, I’ll go to the justice of the peace. Assuming Doc Maynard is still in the law’s good graces, he can marry us.”
Nora gasped, John took a step back and Levi grinned as if applauding Simon’s boldness at challenging the renowned minister.
Mr. Bagley tugged on the bottom of his plain blue waistcoat. “See here, sir. I will not have the members of my congregation married by that charlatan. Besides, you should know that it will do you no good to claim land in Olympia for your wife if the state does not consider you legally wed.”
“So,” Simon returned, “marry us.”
For a moment, the minister met his gaze, his eyes narrowed as if he would see inside Simon. He could look all he liked. Ma always said Simon had been born with an iron rod for a spine. He did not bow, and he did not bend. If the minister thought he could cow him, he had better think again.
Mr. Bagley shook his head as he lowered his gaze to his book of prayer. “Very well. But this is highly irregular.” He shook out his arms and began reading the ceremony. Her hands still visibly trembling, Nora bowed her head and clasped her fingers together.
Simon only half listened. He was too relieved to have won. His mind immediately began working out crop yields, considering directions to draw the furrows, determining which crops to plant depending on when he cleared the acreage. Once he dealt with Nora’s brother, there would be no impediments to his work, except the cold winter weather and Christmas.
“Simon Wallin.” His name as well as the tone of Mr. Bagley’s voice made Simon meet the clergyman’s gaze. The minister’s eyes could have been arrows over the silver of his spectacles.
“Wilt thou have this woman to be thy wedded wife,” he demanded, “to live together under 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 others, keep thee only unto her as long as you both shall live?”
Love and comfort her? Live together, forever? That wasn’t what Simon had intended. He wasn’t offering Nora a home or a place in his life.
“Mr. Wallin?” Mr. Bagley prompted sternly.
Nora dropped her gaze, shrinking in on herself as if she’d been struck. She must be wondering why he didn’t speak. She’d just heard him declare he’d be married or else. She’d laid out the terms of their bargain. She wasn’t expecting undying devotion. He wasn’t offering anything more than to protect her from her brother. And he gained the land his family needed.
“I will,” he said. But the twist in his gut belied the confident words.
* * *
Nora nearly collapsed in relief. For a moment there, she’d feared it was all a horrid joke. He’d turn and shout, April Fools’! even though it was early December. Her life had been like that.
But this marriage would put an end to that life. No more must she please her brother and Meredith. She drew in a deep breath as the minister asked her the same question, then she firmly said, “I will.”
Mr. Bagley took both their hands and held them together. She could feel Simon’s calluses rubbing against her skin. Could he feel the nicks and scratches from her sewing? Did he care?
The minister gave them more vows to say, all about plighting and giving troth. She wasn’t entirely sure what troth was. Then Mr. Bagley released them to hold out his hand, gaze on Simon.
Simon frowned at him.
“The ring?” he prompted.
Nora glanced at Simon. Her groom shook his head. “No ring. That isn’t required for a legal marriage.”
Mr. Bagley’s mouth thinned a moment before he drew back his hand and continued with the ceremony. She supposed if she had been terribly in love she might have minded that she would carry no ring on her finger. But as it was, she just wanted to get this over with.
Finally Mr. Bagley came to the end.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife,” he declared, his voice ringing in the nearly empty church. Nora sucked in a breath. It was done. She was married. Charles had lost his hold on her. Forever. She was her own person at last.
Then she noticed Simon’s brothers waiting, watching.
Had she forgotten something?
“Is there more?” she asked the minister.
Mr. Bagley glanced between them. “I believe it is customary for the husband to offer his wife a kiss.”
Nora swallowed, her stomach fluttering. She’d never been kissed, but all the girls in the boardinghouse floated in with bemused smiles after saying good-night to their chosen beaus. Still, Simon wasn’t a suitor. She hardly knew him. Did she want him to kiss her?
Those firm lips looked rather unforgiving at the moment. He gazed down at her, unmoving, as if he were studying her face. It was the same face she’d worn when she’d asked him to marry her. She wasn’t sure why it was so important to him now. He wasn’t in love with her. And physical intimacy, of any kind, was not part of their bargain.
But then he bent closer, and she found herself closing her eyes, pursing her lips, her heart thundering once more as she drew in the cool, clean scent of him.
She felt a gentle pressure on her cheek, the faintest brush of skin. Then she opened her eyes to find him pulling back, his face still solemn. That was it? Somehow she’d thought a kiss would be more momentous.
“Congratulations, Mrs. Wallin,” Mr. Bagley said.
“Welcome to the family, Nora,” said Simon’s brother John.
Simon put a hand to her back, the touch so proprietary,