Part 10

It was the day of the wedding and Elizabeth did not know quite what to feel. Nervous? Angry? Excited? In some ways she felt all three. She couldn't help that although she hated Michael, a piece of her heart still loved him.

She was helped into her wedding dress, then her hair and makeup were done. The Queen gushed over how beautiful she looked, but not a word her mother said reached Elizabeth's ears. Her mind was occupied by so many other things.

When they were married, they would have to live as husband and wife. And there were certain obligations she knew went along with that. The wedding night! Elizabeth realised. She had heard many terrible tales of what happened between a man and a woman in bed and it had always involved much pain and discomfort.

She was growing more and more anxious as the hour of the wedding drew ever closer.

So lost in her thoughts, she never noticed the ride to the church. It was not until she was halfway down the aisle that she finally realised where she was and that she was really getting married.

He's so handsome. Elizabeth thought as she glanced at Michael.

She's so beautiful. Michael thought, awed, as he watched her approach.

She finally reached him and they turned to face the priest.

As soon as Elizabeth heard, "Dearly Beloved," she tuned the rest out: knowing her part back-to-front, there was no need for her to listen. Her mind was tormented. She wanted this to be real. She loved him and wanted to live with him as man and wife for the rest of her days. It will never happen, she thought sadly, and he never will love me back.

Their marriage was a contract.

The rules of their arrangement had changed. They would remain married, but for Michael it was only for her wealth and connections.

"I do," she whispered. Then clearing her throat, she repeated it louder, so that the entire church could hear her utter those two fateful words. "I do."

"I do," Michael repeated and she was surprised to discover that the hand that slid the ring onto her finger was shaking.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."

A hush fell over the church as Michael and Elizabeth faced each other, but neither moved toward the other.

The priest cleared his throat, jolting Michael into action. Drawing her towards him, he placed a soft, lingering kiss on her lips.

A cheer went up in the church as the new Mr. and Mrs. Michael Guerin walked down the aisle and stepped outside. They headed towards the carriage that would whisk them away for their 'romantic honeymoon' as quickly as they could to escape all the congratulations they would receive.

They settled into the carriage, waving to all the onlookers who had turned out to watch the wedding procession.

Once they were safely away from prying eyes, Elizabeth allowed the smile to slip from her face and she sank back into her seat, staring blindly at the passing landscape as she absently twirled her wedding ring around her finger. You must not cry now. She scolded herself. Cry later. When you are alone and no one can see your pain.

"Elizabeth,'' Michael whispered, his fingers stroking her arm.

She shrank away from him. "Please do not touch me, Sir. It is far too intimate."

"Look at me," he commanded, but she refused to meet his eyes. He grasped her upper arms, jerking her around to face him. She tried to struggle out of his grasp, but he held her still with his strength. One of his hands left her arm to grasp her chin, raising her face so he could look directly into her eyes. "I'm sorry if I've hurt you," he began.

She started to struggle again. She did not want to have to listen to him say that they should remain friends. She could not bear that.

There was only one way to stop her from moving, so he dragged her onto his lap, closing his arms tightly around her, smiling slightly at her startled gasp.

"I shall start again." Michael took a deep breath. "I'm sorry if I've hurt you. It was never my intention to do so. I can no longer keep my feelings a secret. The real reason I said that I wanted you as my 'reward' was because I didn't want to lose you. I love you Elizabeth. I have since I first met you, and I thought that this was the only way I would be able to keep you with me. I do not think I could live knowing that you might find someone else to love after my 'death'. What I am asking is: Will you live with me as my wife? To love, honour and cherish for as long as we both shall live?" His gaze dropped from hers as he awaited her answer, afraid of the rejection he might see in her eyes.

Elizabeth was speechless. She had never believed that he would truly love her, but now everything had changed. He loves me! She felt like shouting it at the top of her lungs. A smile spread across her face, knowing that he loved her.

Glancing up at him, she noticed that his mask was dropping into place, hiding any emotions he might have been feeling. She realised with a start that she had yet to tell him that she loved him and he must be feeling exposed and vulnerable. Something she hoped to rectify immediately.

Tangling her fingers in his hair, she drew his face down to hers and placed a soft, sweet kiss on his lips.

"I love you too, Michael. I was afraid that you didn't love me, so I didn't voice my feelings for fear of rejection."

"Elizabeth, darling, I have loved you from the moment I first laid eyes on you at that ball, but it took me a while to admit it to myself. I was so astounded when you walked up to me and asked if I would be your fiance. I'd always thought that I would never marry, I had no desire to, until I met you."

"Oh, Michael," she whispered, her cheeks wet with tears. "I love you so much. And I always will."

He brought his lips to hers for a tender kiss that spoke of years of joy and happiness to come in each other's arms.

Maybe there was a 'Happily Ever After'.

The End.

A/N: If you're curious what happened next, go to my profile and read 'The Wedding Night'. Warning - it is M rated.