Page 68 of Lady Willa's Divinely Wicked Vicar
“Your father is here to learn humility, my dear.” Her mother fluttered her lashes to keep back her own tears.
“I admit it.” He mashed his lips together, docile. He dug a handkerchief from his waistcoat pocket and handed it to her mother. But to Wills, he frowned and said in a tone meant for her alone, “And I hope you will forgive me my pigheadedness?”
She kissed his cheek. “Is that not what we do with those we love? We forgive everything because we are flawed and very human.”
Her father looked at Charlie. “And you, Vicar, I do owe you many apologies for my unkind words.”
Charlie came forward, put his arm around Wills’s waist and extended his hand. “Sir, I am happy to accept your apology. And delighted that we will have many years to become better acquainted.”
“Thank you, sir. I am most grateful. I would not wish to see my girl wed to any man she did not adore. Her happiness is our own. These past few days without her have been h—.” He shot a glance at the bishop. “Ahem. Excuse me, sir. Our daughter is our precious gift. We celebrate that she is with us once again.”
The clergyman smiled and waved a hand. “Shall we marry these two young people now? What do you say?”
Charlie looked down at Wills and brushed a tear from her cheek. “Shall we now ensure that the rest of our lives you will shed few tears and smile at the world and me?”
She pointed toward the ceiling. “And Him?”
He threw back his head to laugh. His was relief and joy and delight. “Yes, Him too!”
And her grin was for the bounty of her happiness and her gratitude that she did indeed have a man she truly adored.
* * *
Charlie rose from their bed hours later, languid and sated from the fulfillment of their vows. Unable to sleep just yet, he donned his robe about his naked form and padded on bare feet to push back the heavy red velvet drapes from the mullioned panes and viewed the glory of the heavens.
The night was clear, the moon a white beacon hanging in the dark blue universe of twinkling stars. Always had he marveled at the beauty of the world. The turning of each day to night without fail in strict precision. The persistence of seeds to pierce tough soil to lift their tiny heads to reach for sun and rain. The diligence of men to till the earth, plant each spring and bring forth goods to nourish others. The courage of women to bring forth children through hours of painful labor to people the earth. The optimism of children to laugh and bring gaiety to their mothers and fathers and grow so that eventually, they might contribute special talents for all to live in prosperity.
On this special evening, he had so much more to be thankful for. He had a wife, a companion, a friend, a lover. A woman of strength and insight. One who had dared to flaunt convention. One who had won her right to independence. One who loved him.
She was the finest gift his God had given him. He was grateful. For one who would leave the calling of the Church, he did have doubts if he deserved such fine blessings as this wonderful woman. But he had taken her to himself and he was proud. Happy beyond his dreams, he folded his arms and smiled at the universe and all he saw that God had wrought. He would find many ways to exclaim his love of all he surveyed. He would work to make life better for men and women. Find ways to improve wages. Fight hunger. End transport of slaves. Improve working conditions in factories. And…
And if he was too grandiose in those ambitions, he would nonetheless work toward their accomplishment. To make life heaven on earth was a bold ambition.
He shook his head at his audacity.
But that was what he had intended all along, wasn’t it? He was putting his talents to best use.
The rustle of bedclothes had him turning.
“Aren’t you cold over there, talking to yourself?”
He gave a laugh and strode toward their bed and the lovely lean woman who lay beneath the counterpane. “I should be over here warming you up, eh?”
“Your new job, sir, is just that.”
“Let me get to it, then,” he whispered as he climbed in bedside her and put his lips to hers. “I must perfect my technique.”
Wills looped her arms around his neck and giggled. “You have a lifetime to do it.”
“And aren’t I the most fortunate man alive!”
