Chapter 20 The Wedding

Feeling as if he were on display, Erik stood alone before the congregation, careful to keep the right side of his face turned away. The sanctuary was dimly lit by hundreds of candles whose acrid smoke wafted toward him in mistlike fingers. An expectant hush belied the scores of people crowding the benches, their collective breath held in anticipation of the bride's appearance. Wondering why he had ever agreed to a public ceremony, he concentrated on the softly strummed classical piece being played by an unseen guitarist in an effort to distract himself from what could only be labeled stage fright. Having seen its effects many times he knew he must divert his attention from the fact that all eyes were fixed upon him, and him alone.

This guitar piece is somewhat familiar, he nearly said aloud. Either Scarlatti or Rodrigo, or perhaps an earlier composer?

Clenching his hands at his sides and ignoring the little voice in his head which blamed Meg for putting him thus on display, he struggled to analyze the chord progressions. Then his mind jumped to the question of who was playing the music, and why were they hidden? He was sorely tempted to change places with the musician, yet chastised himself for even thinking such a thing.

What's the matter with me? he worried, thinking his concentration was failing. Music is my greatest joy and life's work, yet I cannot even identify a composer! He threw a furtive glance toward the crowd watching him, wondering if they detected his inner turmoil. Though his only previous appearance on stage had led to his unmasking and many horrendous mistakes, at the moment he had an even stronger urge to flee from sight. It made no sense, he told himself. Even his stomach felt upset as it twisted and dipped nervously within.

Dear God, what is the matter with me?

You're getting married, his reason stated blandly. And in public no less…

To Meg...

Slowly unclenching his fists, he reassured himself that it had nothing whatsoever to do with her.

It has everything to do with her!

It was simply unseasonably warm and the air in the sanctuary was smoky and oppressive. Suddenly feeling a choking feeling grip his throat, he reached up and loosened the stiff collar riding halfway up his neck. His black dress suit had been impeccably tailored, recently pressed for him by the parish laundry, yet even the lighter weight fabric felt entirely too warm for the summer night. He resisted the urge to reach down and massage his thigh, for his leg burned from having spent the morning swimming and executing his physical therapy in the hope he could climb the stairs onto the dias without limping. Eyeing them with growing concern, he realized he had not thought of the descent.

Suddenly the people stirred and he shot his gaze toward the entry as Pieter appeared and came toward him. Rejoicing inwardly but offering him a curt nod, Erik met his encouraging smile and glanced away. The minister wore a long white gown over his suit, one arm raised to support a small white book which must contain the order of service. As Pieter halted facing the congregation, he half bowed to them before leaning toward him in greeting.

"She's coming down the corridor," he whispered, immediately straightening and lifting his gaze to the main entrance opposite him.

Releasing a deep, pent up breath Erik shifted only enough to follow Pieter's gaze, astonished when everyone stood and followed his lead. His throat choked up but he pasted a smile upon his half averted face as he awaited his bride.

You're a fake.

The voice spoke so clearly that he shot his gaze to his left, scanning the room. Of course he saw no one, and glancing back toward the entrance he attempted to shake off the unsettled feeling clinging to his heart. At the periphery of his line of sight the guests in the first several rows nodded and whispered to each other, eager for Meg to show herself.

They have no idea, do they? the voice taunted him. They think you're one of them...they even think that this is a real wedding and the beginning of a real marriage…

Erik clamped his teeth and told himself to ignore the doubt and fear swirling through his mind. Things were different now--he was different. Meg wanted to marry him, he told himself, despite the terms he had insisted upon. Her eyes shone with her feelings, he remembered with a surge of pleasure. She wanted his heart, but settled for a place in his mind. At least temporarily.

You're worse than a fake--you're an impostor!

Stopping himself before shaking his head in reply, Erik clenched his hands together before him and glanced down at the carpeted stairs leading down to the main floor. Wondering what was taking Meg so long, he consoled himself with the memory of all that had grown between them since coming to this place. She was his friend, and she was good for him. He would do his best to protect and cherish her whether they were to marry for three days or a lifetime. As he covertly studied the rows of people surrounding them he told himself to be grateful for each one. Nowhere else on earth had he been treated the way these people had treated him, tending his wounds and praying for him, offering him a place to rest and heal. Overcoming the shocking appearance of his face. Surely the credit was due Meg, he realized. It was she they all loved, counting any friend of hers one of their own. And now, with her delay their eyes turned slowly back to him as if trusting her choice of a husband. He felt overwhelmed with love and acceptance and lifted his chin, nodding to them in acknowledgement.

Pieter nudged his side with an elbow and he turned to note the pleased smile on his face. Amazed that such a man would take him in and befriend him, Erik smiled genuinely and eased his hands back to his sides. Never having imagined the possibility of gaining a friend, he still held a certain amount of awe at Pieter's friendship, and at Ben's, who already accepted him as brother-in-law. In fact there was no one he could identify as hostile or foe, not in this community.

Transferring his weight to his stiff leg and back, he wondered how much longer they must wait. His foot was beginning to feel numb from the tight bandage he wore beneath his pants. The heavy muscles above it cramped, demanding he shift his weight from time to time. Praying again for the ability and grace to get through the ceremony and reception with as little attention upon himself as possible, he directed his gaze once again to the huge double doors that stood open in anticipation. He heard the sudden intake of breath as his eyes caught a flash of white, and then she appeared. Catching his breath at the sight of her, he stared awestruck at her beauty as she came to the center of the threshhold and hooked her arm through Ben's. And then they were walking slowly up the aisle, Ben screwing up his face with what Erik suspected as an attempt to relieve the weight of tension on them all. Shifting his eyes back to Meg, he watched her eyes twinkle with delight and she laughed silently, tugging his arm as if to tell him to behave. As they passed row after row their expressions relaxed, and for the first time her eyes met his and held. She was only a few rows away, and she was gliding toward him. Frustrated by the thin, filmy veil covering her from the tiny wreath of flowers atop her hair to midway down her arms, he held her dark eyes as she slowly climbed the stairs and came to stand opposite him. His throat went dry as she pulled her arm from Ben's and he moved to Pieter's other side. Erik stared in silence at her, feeling suddenly as if they were the only two people in the world.

How could she look any more beautiful than before? he wondered with a sense of the surreal. She held his stare, the warmth and pleasure in her eyes causing all thought to desert him. All he could do was study her in silence, his eyes drinking in every detail of her appearance.

From the wildflower atop her veil, her hair cascaded down in wavy tendrils, framing her face and shoulders. Beneath her veil her eyes looked huge and warm as she held his gaze. Her cheeks showed the hint of a blush, and her smile caught his attention to the rosy mauve tint of her lips. The candlelight sparkled off the tiny pearls dotting her ears and circling her neck in a single strand. Her gown was slender and fit her curves perfectly, from the low scoop of her neckline to the lacy hem that touched the tops of her white shoes. The dress was stunning, its ivory hue gilded with strands of pale golden embroidery bordering both sides of the front in what looked like an ivy design. When she stepped closer to him he could smell the clean, flowery fragrance she wore. Without thinking he reached for her hand and gripped it like a lifeline. Her fingers felt cold as he squeezed them, half expecting to awaken suddenly only to find himself alone again, down in the subterranean tunnels of the opera house. But her face lit with a glorious smile which melted his heart, releasing a flood of emotions that overtook him. His eyes moistened and it took several attempts to swallow past the lump in his throat. He was aware of Pieter's voice gently commanding the ceremony as he took their clasped hands between his. .

"Beloved friends and family," he was saying, his voice filling the sanctuary. "We have gathered tonight to witness the holy covenant of marriage between two of our dear friends, Meg and Erik..."

At the sound of his name Erik was assaulted by doubt. A jolt of fear knifed through him, dampening his palms just as Pieter guided their hands back to their sides. He watched Meg's graceful fingers tighten around her small bouquet of flowers as a dark shadow swept over him and pulled him beneath its wave of menace. Losing track of Pieter's words, he was shaken by its strength. It was familiar, reminding him of the dark dreams of his delirium. What had caused it to enter this place? he wondered, daring a glance toward Pieter's calm expression. Shifting his eyes to Meg he noted her dreamy expression and the gentle smile perched upon her lips as she kept her attention upon Pieter. To Erik's amazement he realized that she looked happy, and so did Pieter. Very slowly, he exhaled without them taking notice and tried to slow his racing heart. Telling himself it was his own mind playing tricks on him, he concentrated on what Pieter was saying despite feeling shaken to the depths of his soul.

"Who gives this woman to be married?" Pieter interrupted him. Distractedly, Erik watched Ben take a step forward.

"I do," he answered, "her adopted brother." He placed a hand at the base of her neck and kissed her cheek.

"Ben, do you release Meg from one family unto another, from sister to wife, and conversely take into your family her chosen husband?" Pieter wanted to confirm.

Ben nodded. "I do so release her, and accept Erik as my brother."

"She is so released," Pieter stated. To Erik's surprise Ben put an arm around his back and shrugged into a quick embrace before stepping back.

Pieter took Meg's hand and directed it toward Erik's. "May she grow from sister to wife, and God willing to mother, in God given devotion and love."

Your friendship is no substitute for that kind of love! the voice mocked. You aren't capable of being a man, much less a husband…

It was meant to taunt him, Erik realized, to steal his hope and make him doubt their finest attempt to build a life together through friendship. Fighting his fears, he forced himself to remembered the day Meg had taken him to her pond, to that special place she loved to sit beneath the softly trailing willows. Closing his eyes, he remembered the night she smuggled him into her room. He could almost feel the touch of her fingers upon his ruined face, and taste the first kiss she had offered him. Their conversation that night echoed in the recesses of his mind...

"Then might I have a claim, to either your heart or your mind?" she had asked him. Surprised, he had found himself nodding in agreement:

"I think you know that you already do."

A hint of a smile had teased her lips. "But upon which?" she had whispered to him.

He had dragged his gaze from her lips and answered truthfully: "I'm--not sure...but you have laid claim."

When Meg suddenly turned to face him he was snapped back to the present. He studied the way she kept her gaze averted this time, her attention somewhere around the vicinity of his chin. What had he missed as he fought his doubts and fears? Why wasn't she looking at him?

He glanced at Pieter, trying to catch up to what he had missed. "If I give all I possess to the poor and surrender my body to the flames but have not love," Pieter was saying, "I gain nothing...Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth…"

Erik saw a vision of himself standing with Christine upon the stage as they sang his opera. The flames incorporated into the set design were telling, he realized, embodying all his anger, jealousy and lust. It had been composed with the intent of trapping her and forcing her to be with him. By contrast he now recognized the trap his own passion had set for him, and he vowed never to so enslave a woman again. All his days of study and prayer, along with the company he had kept here had offered him so much more and taught him to recognize true love. If only he had found it sooner he might have been able to avoid making so many colossal mistakes.

God forgive me...

"It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres," Pieter continued, his voice reverent. "Love never fails. Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known..."

He felt Meg's hand turn within his, her fingers lacing between his. Lifting his head he looked into her eyes, seeing her acceptance and hope. Deeply humbled, he bowed his head in acknowledgement.

Change my heart to conform with your will, he prayed, and help me to give her the kind of love which You desire.

"Erik, please unveil your beloved," Pieter said in a gentler tone. Glancing to him for confirmation, he noted Pieter's nod and turned to grasp the edges of the fabric between his fingers. Very slowly he lifted it, drawing close to her. Yet he kept his eyes upon her upturned face, even after he folded it back over her hair and began to move away. As he lowered his arms she clasped his wrist and held onto him, as if for support. With a half step backward he slid his arm back until he could take her hand in his and stood looking into her eyes, which was his own support.

"And now these three remain," Pieter finished. "Faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love." Slowly closing his book, Pieter waiting for their attention before shifting his gaze to the congregation. "Now we will witness the vows which Meg and Erik have written for each other, in their own words." Then he nodded to Meg..

She swallowed and smiled a bit nervously as her eyes caught and held his. "Erik…" she began, deciding her voice was not loud enough to be heard. "I pledge myself to you in a commitment of strong friendship," she stated. "I honor and respect you as a man, and as a friend. I love you, but I also pray to love you as our Creator intends, as outlined in His Word. Erik, I aspire to be found a fit and worthy friend and wife, in both your sight and His."

He watched her moisten her lips as her eyes flooded with tears, yet she stood smiling up at him. Overwhelmed with emotion and hardly believing the place where he stood, Erik was speechless. Unfortunately, as he hesitated in an effort to remember even a bit of what he had intended to say, he saw her smile falter and heard Pieter's whispered prompt. Grasping her hand, he lifted it and cradled it between his own. Then he cleared his throat and plunged forward.

"Marguerite," he breathed, marveling at the beauty of even her name, "I pledge myself to you this day," he began, quickly correcting himself. "—night."

Whispers and soft murmurs scattered around the sanctuary but he concentrated on her upturned face. "I commit myself to your care, even as with my spirit, soul and body I vow to be your protector, friend and husband… I forsake all others, cleaving only to you. I make it my chief desire and goal to be found worthy of your trust. May God grant us His good mercy, protection and favor."

There was a hushed silence for a few moment before Ben put a hand on his shoulder and Erik turned to nod in acknowledgement. In his hand Ben placed the small velvet bag he had kept for him, moving back to his place at Pieter's side. Facing Meg once again, Erik pulled the tiny drawstring to open it and extracted the ring he had chosen for her. Glancing at Pieter for approval, he missed the look of astonishment on her face until they continued.

"Repeat after me," Pieter stated; "with this ring I thee wed…"

Erik took her hand, smiling at her wide eyes as she stared at the ring. Its diamonds and single sapphire sparkled even in the dim candlelight, but her eyes shot up to his and she smiled. He promised her his devotion and faithfulness as he slid it onto her finger and held her hand in his. It's beautiful! she mouthed to him, but he only nodded soberly.

"We are all witness to the vows made herein before God and man," Pieter said, focusing on them once again. "Erik and Meg, I now pronounce you husband and wife… and Erik, you may kiss your bride now."

He held her gaze, vaguely aware of the soft music that started up again, as well as the murmuring whispers filling the sanctuary. Squeezing her hand, he watched her eyes shift to his lips as she waited in expectation. Bending his head to hers, he lifted a hand to her waist to pull her closer. She placed her free hand over his heart as he touched his lips to hers, pressing against their warm softness as his heart pounded heavily. Though too aware of the scrutiny of the congregation, he closed his eyes and molded his lips against hers until she sighed softly, as if satisfied. Then he straightened and moved away, keeping her hand in his as they turned back to Pieter.

"Please stand for the benediction," he announced, "wait for the bride and groom to make their way to the doors, then greet them on your way out to gather in the dining hall for the reception."

Dismissing them with the blessing of Aaron and gesturing for the people to make their way out of the sanctuary, Pieter turned to pull them into a tight embrace, turning then to embrace Ben as the place filled with the voices of the people. Erik felt Meg grip his arm and gazed down at her questioning eyes.

"Erik--the ring is so beautiful!" she breathed, clutching his lapel. He swept his arm around her shoulders and pulled her to his chest, closing his eyes as he held her. She gripped his back and buried her face in the ruffle of his shirt while Ben slapped his back and shouted hallelujah. Laughter erupted throughout the crowd as they eased away from each other and started after Pieter, who descended the stairs and headed toward the doors. Meg gripped his arm and turned to smile at Ben, taking his arm as they slowly started down the stairs. With Erik's stiff leg and Meg's high heeled boots they made slow but careful progress.

"I'm glad that's over!" Ben declared, pulling meaningfully at the knot in his cravat. His voice was nearly drowned by the roar of the crowd surrounding them.

Erik shook some of the hands thrusting toward him in congratulations as Meg and Ben did the same on their way toward the exit doors. Once they were there Ben picked her up and swung her in a small circle as she laughed and pushed at his shoulders.

"Ben, put me down!" she cried, catching Erik's eye and smiling broadly at him.

"All right, but there will be more to come!" Ben warned, releasing her and veering off toward the side where Pieter waited.

Erik caught her hand, transferring it to the small of her back as he leaned close. "You look so beautiful," he said quietly, his eyes moving slowly over her face. "Thank you for marrying me."

Her face lit with mischief as she tugged at his cravat. "I wasn't sure you would brave the crowd, but I'm thankful you did."

"You are worth the effort," he said sincerely.

Her expression warmed. "So are you--you look wonderful, Erik."

Pieter called his name, pointing toward the opposite door, so Erik guided Meg to their side and leaned back against the carved wood, keeping her hand in his as they greeted, nodded, thanked everyone who came to them, too distracted to focus upon what had just been accomplished.

c. 2007 by Christine Levitt