[i]”Bite your tongue.”[/i]

There it goes – the wrath of a lady wronged by a man. Nick flinched at her words. He could try and fake innocence then ask her what he had done wrong, but knowing Claire such an act would only fuel her apparent hatred for him. They both knew what he did wrong. Although looking at the bright side, her anger was a good indication that what they had when they last saw each other got into her head. She did believe his intentions and might have had hoped that there existed a future where the two of them could coexist in perfect romantic harmony.

Then again, letting her real emotion to get the best of her was the quickest way to shred the remainder of her reputation. He admired how he handled herself and her emotions in the middle of the biggest turning point in her life. She was giving her life away to a man who had flowery words and no real substance, a man who so easily gave away promises but had no intention of fulfilling any of it. 

And yet, like the heartless bastard he was, he answered affirmation to the clergyman that he will love her, comfort her, honor and keep her in sickness and in health, and that he will save himself only for her. She did the same with a smile on her lips but her beautiful emerald eyes downcast and avoiding him. They both know they could not keep such promise, at least not at that moment when she was angry at him and he didn’t have much willpower to try and appease her. 	

The ceremony ended with the clergyman pronouncing them married under the laws of God and of Great Britain. With joined hands they faced their guests who clapped their hands most vigorously. Lord Abbott and Bennett wore almost identical grins, while Queen Victoria together with her husband Prince Albert applauded with the crowd. The queen caught Nick’s stare and nodded in acknowledgment.

Nick let go of her hand and instead offered his arm. He took advantage of the noise and whispered in Claire’s ear as he led them towards the exit. He walked slowly not for her but for himself. “Whatever it will take for you to forgive me, [i]dear wife[/i], tell me,” he said in a low voice emphasizing that she was indeed his wife. “Should I bite my tongue?” he asked, eyes twinkling with mischief, “Or should I let you tonight, when we have our house to ourselves?”

They reached the end of the aisle that was to Nick the longest aisle he had ever crossed. Relatives and new found friends congratulated the beautiful couple as they passed by. Nicholas nodded his acknowledgment like a mechanical doll programmed just to do that. All he wanted was to get out of that place and take a seat somewhere – anywhere. The strain of standing and kneeling and standing again, and then walking and talking, was starting to take its toll. Breathing, though he was still struggling to keep it even, was beginning to be such a laborious task. Even standing straight was not as easy as it should have been. 

Finally, he was separated from Claire by the crowd of her relatives who wanted to greet her more personally. He was, in turn, met by Mr. Bennett and Timothy who both wore a worried look on their faces. A few of his new noble friends and “business partners” were also present to congratulate him. 
“How are you faring?” asked Tim, clapping Nick on his back.

Nick grinned despite the beads of sweat forming at his brow. He would blame it to the relatively hot morning. “Still able to stand, but I feel like trading my new house for a place to sit or lie down right at this moment.”

The blonde French man looked thoughtful for a moment. “I know of such a place. What about I let you sit down and you let me have your new wife instead of your new house?” 

Nick shrugged. “She’s mad at me anyway.”

The crowd parted for the queen and Prince Albert. Timothy sobered, while Nick and Claire found themselves standing in front of Great Britain’s monarch. Nicholas bowed. “Your majesty.”

“Such a lovely couple, the two of you,” she announced, her thin lips curving into a genuine smile. “I will not be satisfied if I did not personally congratulate you, Mr. and Mrs. Rochford. May God bless this union and may you fall in love with one another every single day.”

“Thank you, your majesty,” the groom answered.

“Well then, this is only the beginning. We shall see each other again at breakfast.” the queen turned to her husband. “Lead us to our carriage, my lord?”

With that, the queen and her husband left. The carriage of the newlywed waited at the foot of the abbey. It was a black open carriage pulled by four brown horses. He helped his wife up and followed after her, taking the seat beside her. He breathed a long sigh of relief as soon as he was settled. He would much prefer to lie down, but sitting was a much better option than standing or kneeling. 

The wedding breakfast was going to be at the estate of Lord Abbott. It was their turn to showcase their wealth. The grand ballroom was equipped with long tables and flowers everywhere. Everything was neat and undeniably feminine. Tea and coffee were served at a side table and the wedding cake was the centerpiece of the occasion. It was on a table of its own in front of a rectangular table prepared for the couple.