The Duke of Wellington, national hero and fabled statesman, stood in the pews of St George's Chapel and watched as his monarch processed down the aisle. Melbourne flicked his eyes to Wellington and met his gaze for a moment. He squared his jaw and nodded, tugging at the hem of his Windsor Uniform. Wellington was in the Uniform, as well, along with Robert Peel, who stood beside Wellington.
The organ played a resounding piece in the nearly-empty chapel as Victoria walked towards Melbourne. She smiled at him, looking resplendent in pink. She wore no veil this time; she hardly looked bridal aside from the bouquet of Melbourne's roses in her hands. But as she approached Melbourne, his heart thudded and he realised he was happier in this moment than he'd ever been.
Ever.
"Marriage is intended by God to be a creative relationship, as his blessing enables husband and wife to love and support each other in good times and in bad, and to share in the care and upbringing of children. For Christians, marriage is also an invitation to share life together in the spirit of Jesus Christ. It is based upon a solemn, public and life-long covenant between a man and a woman, declared and celebrated in the presence of God and before witnesses.
On this their wedding day the bride and bridegroom face each other, make their promises, and receive God's blessing. You, the Duke of Wellington and Sir Robert Peel, are witnesses of the marriage, and express your support by your presence and your prayers. Your support does not end today: the couple will value continued encouragement in the days and years ahead of them."
Wellington and Peel looked distinctly uncomfortable as the Archbishop spoke directly to them. Wellington shifted on his feet, and Peel pinched his lips. Melbourne whispered to Victoria,
"You look magnificent."
"As do you," she smiled and said softly.
"God is love," said the Archbishop, "and those who live in love live in God, and God lives in them."
He said a long prayer then, and Melbourne's eyes flitted about the mighty chapel. It was far too grand a space for a measly ceremony like this one. But Melbourne's eyes settled on Victoria - beautiful Victoria - and then on her swollen belly, and his chest yanked.
"In the presence of God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Ghost, we have gathered together to witness the marriage of William Lamb, Second Viscount Melbourne, to Her Majesty Queen Victoria. We pray for God's blessing on them; we share their joy…"
The Archbishop droned on and on, and Melbourne just stared at Victoria. She'd set her roses down and was facing Melbourne now, and he realised, not for the first time, just how very small she was. He wanted to dance with her, he thought. He wanted to sweep her up in his arms in a waltz.
"First," said the Archbishop, "I am required to ask those present whether they should have a reason why these two can not be lawfully wed."
Melbourne glared up at Wellington and Peel, who shook their heads minutely. Victoria huffed a sigh of relief, and Melbourne licked his lips. He'd been half expecting one of the two Tories to insist that the Queen marrying her former Whig Prime Minister was unconstitutional.
"The vows you are about to take are to be made in the presence of God, who is judge of all and knows all the secrets of our hearts; therefore if either of you knows a reason why you may not lawfully marry, you must declare it now."
Melbourne and Victoria looked at one another, and he knew what she was thinking. The child in her belly was not Albert's. It was Melbourne's. The child had been conceived against a wall at Dover House when Melbourne had agreed to save Victoria from marrying someone else after Albert's death. This was a secret child, and God knew the secret. So did everyone else, apparently. Still, Melbourne shook his head, and so did Victoria.
"William Lamb, Second Viscount Melbourne, will you take Her Majesty the Queen as your wife? Will you love her, comfort her, honour and protect her, and, forsaking all others, be faithful to her as long as you both shall live?"
"I will," Melbourne said with all the confidence in the world. He meant it, too. He had been unfaithful to Caroline, but he would never, ever betray Victoria. He knew that much.
"Your Majesty, will you take William as your husband? Will you love him, comfort him, honour him, and, forsaking all others, be faithful to him as long as you both shall live?"
"I will." Victoria's eyes rimmed red, and she whispered the words as she seemed on the verge of tears. Melbourne instinctively reached for her hand and caressed it.
"Will you, the witnesses for Her Majesty and Lord Melbourne, support and uphold them now and in the years to come?" asked the Archbishop, and even he seemed to realise how strange the question was. Wellington and Peel looked remarkably uncomfortable then, but they both bowed their heads and affirmed,
"We will."
"God our Father, from the beginning, you have blessed creation with abundant life. Pour out your blessings upon Her Majesty the Queen and Lord Melbourne, that they may be joined in mutual love and companionship,in holiness and commitment to each other. We ask this through our Lord Jesus Christ your Son, who is alive and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Ghost, one God, now and forever."
"Amen," said the others, and Melbourne managed to finally croak out, "Amen."
The Duke of Wellington descended from the pew then and made his way to the lectern, where he cleared his throat and opened the text before him. He read in a clear, almost booming voice,
"A Reading from the Book of Genesis: God blessed them, and God said to them, 'Be fruitful and multiply, and fill the earth and subdue it; and have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the air and over every living thing that moves upon the earth.' This is the Word of the Lord."
"Thanks be to God," murmured the others, and Victoria actually smirked a little. Be fruitful and multiply, the reading had commanded. Well, they'd done their bit, Melbourne thought. They had been fruitful together.
"Your Majesty. Lord Melbourne. I invite you to join hands and make your vows in the presence of God and His people," said the Archbishop. Melbourne took Victoria's shaking right hand in his own and squeezed gently to soothe her. She swallowed visibly and blinked through the tears that threatened to spill.
"I, William, take you, Victoria, to be my wife, to have and to hold from this day forward; for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part; according to God's holy law. In the presence of God I make… this vow."
He trailed off at the end, for his own eyes were searing and his stomach twisted with disbelief that he was actually marrying the woman he'd loved in secret for so long. He'd adored her, even when that had been the most forbidden thing for him to do. He'd put his child upon her, even when that had been a crime. He loved Victoria with all that he was, and now he'd just vowed to marry her. Would she say it back? Would she panic? He released her hand, and then she grasped his right hand again and said in quite a noble tone,
"I, Victoria, take you, William, to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward; for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part; according to God's holy law. In the presence of God I make this vow."
"The ring," prompted the Archbishop, and Melbourne pulled the Welsh gold wedding ring out of his pocket. Victoria had removed her rings from Albert; her finger was bare. Melbourne passed the ring to the Archbishop, who held them aloft and proclaimed,
"Heavenly Father, source of everlasting love, revealed to us in Jesus Christ and poured into our hearts through your Holy Spirit; that love which many waters cannot quench, neither the floods drown; that love which is patient and kind, enduring all things without end; by your blessing, let these rings be to Her Majesty the Queen and Lord Melbourne symbols to remind them of the covenant made this day through your grace in the love of your Son and in the power of your Spirit."
"Amen," said everyone gathered. Then the Archbishop handed Melbourne Victoria's small ring, and she held out her trembling hand. Melbourne steadied her fingers with a little stroke of his thumb, and as he pushed her ring onto her fourth finger, he said in the gentlest voice he could manage,
"Victoria… Victoria, I give you this ring as a sign of our marriage. With my body I honour you, all that I am I give to you, and all that I have I share with you, within the love of God - Father, Son and Holy Ghost."
Today Melbourne would not be receiving a ring; he and Victoria had agreed that he would continue wearing his ring that he'd always worn. It would take on new meaning now, but it had been a family heirloom and held special meaning to Melbourne. So Victoria nodded and said,
"William, I receive this ring as a sign of our marriage. With my body, I honour you." She paused then and placed her right hand on the low swell of her abdomen. Her eyes welled thickly again as she continued, "All that I am… I give to you… and all that I have I share with you, within the love of God - Father, Son, and Holy Ghost."
"In the presence of God, and before those here gathered, William and Her Majesty Queen Victoria have given their consent and made their marriage vows to each other. They have declared their marriage by the joining of hands and by the giving and receiving of a ring. I therefore proclaim that they are husband and wife."
He took Victoria's right hand and linked it with Melbourne's, and he finished,
"What God has joined, let no man tear asunder."
Melbourne felt a tear escape his eye then and creep down his cheek. He helped Victoria kneel, for she was far enough along now that the action was difficult for her. He instinctively cradled her belly as she arranged herself on her knees. Then he faced the Archbishop, who said,
"Eternal God, you create us out of love that we should love you and one another. Bless this man and this woman, made in your image, who today become a sign of your faithful love to us in Christ our Lord."
"Amen." This time, Wellington and Peel sounded a little more enthusiastic. Melbourne glanced behind him to see that Wellington actually looked a little emotional. The elder man pursed his lips and nodded stoutly to Melbourne, who turned back to the Archbishop.
"By your Holy Spirit, fill bride and bridegroom with wisdom and hope that they may delight in your gift of marriage and enrich one another in love and faithfulness; through Jesus Christ our Lord."
"Amen."
"Bring them to that table where your saints celebrate forever in your heavenly home; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who with you and the Holy Spirit lives and reigns, one God, for ever and ever."
"Amen."
"Let us pray with confidence as our Saviour has taught us," prompted the Archbishop, and Melbourne turned his eyes to Victoria as he incanted,
"Our Father, who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on Earth as it is in Heaven. Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us."
Melbourne thought briefly of Albert all of a sudden. Was he trespassing against Albert? Had Albert trespassed against Victoria? It didn't matter now, did it? All was forgiven. Albert was dead, and Melbourne was in love with Victoria. Things were different now.
"And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. For thine is the kingdom, the power, and the glory, now and forever, Amen."
"Arise," commanded the Archbishop, and Melbourne stood before heaving the pregnant Victoria to her feet. It was all just a little ungraceful, especially for a queen, but no one was here to see her struggle. No one but Wellington and Peel, and they would never condemn a woman bearing the heir to the throne for lacking physical grace.
"God the Holy Trinity make you strong in faith and love, defend you on every side, and guide you in truth and peace; and the blessing of God almighty, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, be among you and remain with you always. Go in peace."
The organ sounded triumphantly again, and Melbourne took Victoria's right hand in his left one as she seized her roses. The two of them walked down the long aisle of St George's Chapel, and as they passed Wellington and Peel, the two gentlemen bowed respectfully. At long last, they reached the end of the aisle, and they pulled aside. The organ kept playing, and Victoria giggled like a madwoman as she seized Melbourne's face and pulled him down for a hard kiss. He grunted in surprise at her gall, but he kissed her back and then whispered against her lips,
"We are wed, you and I."
"So we are," she laughed. She tucked her head against the chest of his Windsor Uniform and reached for his left hand. She placed it on her abdomen and then whispered up to him, "I felt the baby move during the ceremony."
He pulled back a little and stared down at her in surprise. Then it was his turn to laugh, and he gnawed on his lip, feeling happier than he could possibly have imagined feeling.
"I beg your pardon," said a voice, and Melbourne turned to see a page, looking breathless and frightened. He held out a sealed letter that clearly read The Right Honourable Lord Melbourne on the outside. Melbourne scowled and snatched the letter, scolding the page,
"You do realise that Her Majesty and I just got married… just now?"
"I do apologise, sir; it is apparently quite urgent. The message is for you and Her Majesty. I also have a letter for the Prime Minister."
Peel, he meant. Melbourne gulped, suddenly feeling that something had gone terribly wrong. He broke the seal on the letter as the page bowed and dashed off towards Peel. Melbourne pulled out the letter inside, which read quite simply,
There are riots protesting Her Majesty's wedding. Fires burn in London. Stay at Windsor for both your safety, William - for all three of you.
Emma
Melbourne's mouth fell open, and he passed the letter to Victoria. She read it and blinked quickly, her breath shaking.
"I need to go talk with Peel," Melbourne said firmly, and Victoria just gave a numb nod as Melbourne kissed her forehead and turned on a heel, walking briskly through St George's Chapel towards the Tory Prime Minister.
Author's Note: Ohhhhhhh, nooooooooo. Riots protesting Victoria? Now how are they supposed to have a sexy honeymoon? (Where there's a will, there's a way.) But clearly they both have to handle this situation.
Obviously, I took a little bit of liberty with the Anglican wedding ceremony, but I hope it worked for you. Thank you so very much for reading and reviewing.