LXI
Imagine if you will, the day of the Gisborne wedding from the point of view of Father Thomas of Locksley.
It is a sunny day; there is a cheerful bustle at the church as villagers attend to last minute preparations, little by little, guests arrive, followed by the groom who, despite being a generally unpleasant sort of man, seems to be on good form today, albeit nervous. He takes his place at the altar and a short interval follows before the bride arrives, looking like an angel.
You are ready to begin with the ceremony when for some reason a guest holds everybody up by choosing that moment to enthusiastically congratulate the bride. It's irritating, yes, but you let it go because, well, some people are idiots and there's not much one can do about that.
Anyway, idiot makes an exit and you're assuming that all will proceed as planned when the bride collapses with a bout of nerves.
Little do you know that this is the starting point for one of the most bizarre days of your life.
The groom morphs into a tyrant, servants carry the unconscious bride behind the altar (!) and the guests leave in droves.
You hover a while, unsure as to what happens now, wondering if a sermon might be of help to anybody but upon observing the deeply unhappy demeanour of the groom decide it's probably best to go.
You inform Thornton of your intentions (you're too scared to go near Gisborne) and tell him that when they plan to proceed with the wedding you can be located at the vicarage.
You've just got home when there's a knock at the door. You open it expecting to find Sir Guy of Gisborne on your doorstep but no, it's the Earl of Huntingdon aka Robin Hood. You try to slam the door on him because let's face it, the last person you want to be caught speaking with when Sir Guy shows up is Nottingham's most notorious outlaw but the former master of Locksley is having none of it.
He demands you bring him up to speed on events so far and you happily oblige because you're hoping that will get rid of him.
No such luck.
Next thing you know, Robin and friend are rifling through your wardrobe, appropriating religious garments and demanding you take them on as "novices novices". You protest because it doesn't work that way, citing the usual procedure for joining the clergy but sadly they insist.
You question their motives for this sudden interest in God's work and are strangely relieved to discover that they have no long-term interest in serving the Lord; they merely wish to get past security in Nottingham. You wish them good luck with the outfits and try to push them out the door.
Nope. No joy here either.
Your assistance is required.
You ask that they find someone else as you have a previous engagement, i.e. the Gisborne wedding and they reveal that this is precisely why they chose you.
"There isn't going to be a wedding my friend, not if we have anything to do with it."
You try to inform them that they are operating against God's will but this has little effect upon them if the weapons pointed at your head are anything to go by.
So, with the discussion part over, you hitch your horse up to the cart (plus one saracen-style bow strapped beneath), and head in to Nottingham with your 'novices' on the pretext of almsgiving.
The place is swarming with guards and you break out in a cold sweat just thinking what might happen if any one of them smells a rat. Fortunately, it doesn't come to that: as priest, one is practically above suspicion and the guards are so good as to wave you through after a cursory greeting. Your 'helpers' keep their heads covered and down - it seems this isn't their first attempt to get in and therefore they're keen to keep a low profile.
Once through the gates, they let you go because they've urgent matters to attend to, but not before they've threatened you with dire consequences should you return to Locksley and conduct the marriage ceremony. The thing is though, there's dire consequences and there's dire consequences. Yes, you're sure that whatever they might do to you (should you go back on your word) is suitably dire, but then again, you are positive that what Gisborne will do to you for not fulfilling your duty will be far worse.
As all hell breaks loose inside the castle, you waste no further time deliberating and use the distraction to get out of there.
The sight that greets you as you walk into the church upon your return makes you wish you hadn't bothered.
It's as if someone let a bull in. The place is totally trashed.
There's a young girl - a servant you recognise from Sir Guy's household sweeping up debris. She stops to regard you apologetically.
When you recover the ability to speak, your first question is "Is this because I wasn't there?"
Blank looks. Shrug.
"Did Sir Guy go looking for me?"
More of the same.
You feel you might cry. This is surely punishment for not being there. You run your eyes over the carnage that was your sacred chapel and become very afraid.
"You err… you wouldn't happen to know where he is at the moment?"
Unsurprisingly, she does not.
This is bad. You should have been here.
Your mind supplies you with countless horrific scenarios as to what will happen when Sir Guy finds you, followed by countless uncharitable thoughts about the outlaws.
This is not my fault. I didn't want any of this.
You sneak over to the vicarage, looking over your shoulder the entire time and lock yourself in the bedchamber. This works as a coping strategy for all of twenty minutes because you're hungry. You sprint into the kitchen, grab whatever leftovers are closest then lock yourself in again. The day continues much in this vein, darting in and out of rooms like some paranoid dervish until finally, you've exhausted yourself mentally and physically and you end up falling asleep.
You wake to the sound of knocking. The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. You hear murmurs from outside and then your worst fear becomes reality:
It's Sir Guy. Calling your name and hammering on the front door.
Not a peep comes out of you nor do you move a muscle. Go away. I'm not here.
"Father Thomas, it's Thornton. We know you're there – your horse is nibbling my shoes…"
Drat.
Should've hid him as well. Didn't think of that.
That beast is far too friendly.
Friendly or not, the game is up. What do you do now? Apologise? Try to explain yourself?
With Thornton there, it might not be so bad…
A voice in your head begs to differ, but you ignore it because you know it's no use. You can't avoid the man forever. You have to face the music.
So it is with great reluctance that you drag yourself out of your self-imposed prison and open the front door.
The scene that greets you leaves you speechless.
Sir Guy is smiling.
Not only that, he has his arms around a girl.
A girl who is not Lady Marian.
No, no matter how you squint nor from whichever angle, she is most certainly not the woman Sir Guy was set to marry this morning. And you're not about to insult her, for in her own way she is just as lovely, especially as she laughs at the antics of your over-friendly steed (currently snuffling at the hem of her dress) and blushes as Sir Guy folds her tighter to his chest to 'rescue' her… but… well, she's just not what you were expecting that's all.
As the knight greets you with a nervous smile and apologises for the damage done to the church, you wonder if this is some sort of fever dream brought on by the stress you've been under, anticipating how he will murder you. You pinch yourself hard, but still he continues with expressing his regret and you very nearly fall over as he informs you of his intention to cover the cost of reparations.
You nod because that's all you're able to do.
Thornton smirks and loops an arm through yours. On your other side, Emily does the same. They commence walking down the garden path and linked as you are to them, you automatically follow.
"Oh, err… where are we off to then?"
Emily chuckles, "Why to the church of course!"
Thornton grins and nods to the happy couple, "We've got a wedding to attend."
As weddings go, it was certainly unusual.
Father Thomas looked appropriately shocked throughout. His expression pretty much summed it up for Thornton.
In strange territory now… strange and new…
No guests in attendance. No friends or family. Only the two servants as witnesses.
The church sparse and empty. Decorations gone. Broken furniture cleared out.
Just a man and a woman promising to love, honour and obey...
He looks at her as if she's saved his life and she looks at him as if he's hung the moon.
They are noticeably moved throughout the ceremony and their smiles as they seal their vows with a kiss are luminous.
For Thornton it was nothing short of a miracle.
The second today.
After Sir Guy sparing Marian's life that is.
To say he'd felt relieved was an understatement. A certain wariness he felt towards his master however, made it difficult to believe that this was the end of the matter. Gisborne was not one to forget trespasses committed against him and Thornton feared he would take his revenge in some other way. Indeed, as Sir Guy had approached him at Locksley earlier that evening, he'd expected the worst.
How wonderful then, that his fears proved unfounded.
For perhaps the first time in his life, Sir Guy of Gisborne was turning the other cheek. One might say that he was letting his foes off the hook, but when one really thought about it, his marriage to Francesca and departure from Nottingham meant he was finally putting his past behind him and punishing those truly deserved it.
There's no better revenge than living well is there?
But would love heal all wounds? Thornton could not say. Love often comes from the selfish wish to not be alone or to have someone complete you. Does it hit the mark? Yes, but not always - one may still feel alone or incomplete with a lover.
Perhaps Sir Guy was on the right track though, with the wish for understanding. To desire is one thing, to crave, to want, to long for, but to understand? That was something deeper. Was true love not born of understanding? Could love survive without it? Was lack of understanding not the chief reason for loneliness? Are the lonely amongst us not merely misunderstood?
The truth is, we are all lonely to a certain degree, because no person can completely understand any other. As sad as it is, no one can see inside your mind, read your thoughts and feelings, or know one hundred percent how it is to be you - the best anyone can do is guess.
But is that not the beauty of life? The bittersweet beauty of being alive? That we try anyway? Is that not the greatest gift we can offer?
Francesca not only loved Guy, but was willing to try to understand him and that was worth more than anything anyone else had done for him.
And if that would not help them through whatever struggles they would face in their marriage then Thornton did not know what would.
Emily never thought she would be sorry to learn that Sir Guy was to leave them.
He'd been an unpleasant master there was no denying that - moody, troubled, discourteous, irascible, resentful, impatient, sarcastic, cruel... the list went on and on...
but...
he was none of those things in the last hours she spent in his service.
Well, one says service, but watching those two marry was a pleasure not a duty.
It had been a shock to learn of their plans, no doubt about that. As Thornton had told her Sir Guy and Lady Francesca were getting married, she'd thought he'd gotten the names mixed up. Imagine her surprise then, to find that no, Thornton was not mistaken, and yes, Sir Guy was not marrying his fiancée but one of his wedding guests. The wedding guest who'd had her fetch Mary Lambert to come take care of his fiancée no less.
One look at the couple had allayed any concerns she might have had at this abrupt change of plans however.
They were in love.
Not even the most oblivious of fools could've missed it.
And mere moments in Sir Guy's company were enough to see the change in him.
Back at Locksley, she had expected him to revert to old ways but no, not a bit of it - he spoke in grateful tones as he told her that he and Francesca were to leave in the morning and gave instructions to divide up his remaining effects amongst the servants before Vaisey got chance to clear the place out.
It was no great fortune, he would of course be needing funds for himself and Francesca, and one also had to bear in mind that he'd been robbed the other night, but it should hopefully tie them over until a new master is installed.
Failing that, they could "ask Lady Marian for help when she is recovered." His face darkened as he suggested this, but he checked himself before expanding upon why she was in a position to help and refrained from making sarcastic remarks concerning her benevolence. Emily understood. She was one of the few in the know and so she quickly steered the conversation to more neutral subjects.
One subject she pointedly avoided, however, was that of their future plans. This was not because she wasn't curious because she was, but the reason she did not ask was because she did not wish to betray their whereabouts should Vaisey put her through the mangle. It seemed that Thornton was thinking along the same lines since he didn't ask either.
Instead, they toasted to the happy couple and wished them all the best for the future.
It was then that it occurred to Emily that perhaps Francesca might be in need of a certain kind of discussion about... err... how should one put it... wifely duties.
She had mentioned earlier that her mother would've been proud to see her wed and that's how Emily knew that her mother had passed away, but had someone explained to her about what a man and a woman do on their wedding night?
As she steeled herself to ask the girl if she 'would like to take a walk with her in the garden', she followed the couple into the kitchen and was shocked to find them in a sensual clinch.
She backed off instantly.
Scratch that.
They're going to be fine.
