A/N: Their wedding day is here at long last! I hope I'm giving you what all of us have always wanted, what was unfairly taken from these characters, and from us. Thanks to those who are reading and commenting. I appreciate you all so much!

Chapter 2

Before Lucas had left the night before, Elizabeth had given him the box with her wedding dress to load stealthily into the back seat of his car. She didn't want to risk Rosemary seeing the familiar box the next morning before they left for Union City.

"Don't you dare peek," she whispered into the darkness as she trustingly placed it in in his arms.

He grinned and looked down at the precious cargo. "I wouldn't dream of it."

Before he could get in the driver's seat, she reached down to pick up their old picnic blanket from the floor of the car and draped it over the box. "Just in case. Rosemary has senses like a bloodhound. One glimpse or scent of that box and she'll foil the entire plan."

"Not a chance. Our story is perfect. She won't suspect a thing. Now, kiss me goodnight, my beautiful bride, and I'll see you tomorrow morning, bright and early."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxx

They took Jack next door in the morning, and Elizabeth tried to act as if she wasn't hiding the biggest secret of her life from her best friend. She thought she was mostly successful. After she'd kissed Jack good-bye and hugged Rosemary, Elizabeth's heart was still pounding rapidly as Lucas helped her into his car and they waved as they drove away.

She breathed a shaky sigh of relief. "Oh, my goodness, that was nerve-wracking."

Lucas chuckled. "You handled it beautifully."

She frowned. "I really didn't like lying to her, but I know it's for the best. Rosemary isn't very good at keeping secrets."

"But won't she be excited when we tell her we're married?"

"I'm not sure she will be. I mean, she'll be happy for us, but she'll have missed out on the wedding. Rosemary loves weddings, especially ones she has planned."

"We could let her throw us a lovely reception in November."

Elizabeth's features relaxed into a smile. "Yes, that might more than make up for it."

He nodded, then, as they left Hope Valley behind, he took her hand and brought it to his lips. "And now, we embark on our greatest adventure yet," he said, his own heart racing with what lay ahead for them on this beautiful summer's day.

A couple hours later, and they arrived at the Yorktown Hotel in Union City. They had another hour and a half before the ceremony, so they went ahead and checked in as Mr. and Mrs. Lucas Bouchard. They were almost giddy as the bell hop closed the door behind them and they were alone. He immediately gathered her into his arms and kissed her, anticipation of the wedding night ahead heightening their senses, nearly overwhelming them both with heated passion.

Lucas finally broke away, and he chuckled self-consciously. "I think we'd better stop now before we miss our own wedding."

Her blue eyes roamed toward the open door that led from the sitting room of the suite to the bedroom, where she could just see the large, red and gold damask covered bed enclosed by a curtained canopy. She blushed as she realized what would be happening there very soon, her color deepening when she saw that Lucas could clearly read her expression. His eyes darkened with mutual longing.

He stepped away from her and cleared his throat. "I imagine you'd like a bit to freshen up and rest a little," he said. "I'll go and make sure all our arrangements are in order."

"All right," she said. "And thank you, Lucas. The room is beautiful."

"You deserve nothing less, my love. I'll be back soon."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Elizabeth would put on her wedding gown at the church so she could at least have one surprise for him this day. After five minutes of pacing from the bedroom to the sitting room and back in nervous agitation, she finally gave in and went into the bathroom. She'd bathed the night before, but the luxuriously large tub called to her, and she turned on the taps, thinking a quick soak might soothe her. She filled the bath, sprinkled in the complimentary rose-scented bath salts, and disrobed, hastily pinning up her hair before sinking up to her neck in warm water.

She forced her body and mind to relax, the water helping her along. She'd just close her eyes for a few minutes…

"Elizabeth?"

She jerked awake in the tub with a splash, her eyes going to the door of the bathroom-the door which she'd carelessly left open. It was too late to get up and grab a towel, and he had called to her from the bedroom. She sank a little lower into the tub, mindful that she didn't want to get her hair wet, praying the light foam from the bath salts and the depth of the water might afford some coverage.

"Eliza-? Oh. I'm so…not sorry. Not sorry at all." And there was her fiancé, standing in the doorway, his gaze taking in the tantalizing scene. He leaned against the frame and grinned.

She crossed her arms over her chest and bent her knees.

"Go away! I'm in the bath."

"So I see," he said, eyes sparkling. "It appears that you're in quite the predicament, Mrs. Thornton—very soon to be Mrs. Bouchard."

"Well, I'm surprised at you Mr. Bouchard. This is highly ungentlemanly."

He chuckled as she'd assumed the admonishing teacher voice she used when disappointed in a student.

"Well, in my defense, I did call for you twice, and the bathroom door was left open. Perhaps you unconsciously wanted me to catch you un état de déshabillage…"

She gasped. "I would never-I accidentally fell asleep, I—oh for goodness sakes, just leave please, so I can get out of here!"

He sighed, his eyes still teasing, although he was obviously genuinely reluctant to leave. "Very well. But I reserve the right as your husband to revisit this scenario at a later date."

"Agreed," she said boldly, meeting his eyes. With a frustrated groan, he forced himself to turn and leave the room.

"Lucas—shut the door behind you, if you please."

"Oh, of course. My apologies, madame."

He pulled the doorknob until she heard a gentle click.

Still blushing, Elizabeth couldn't help but smile, the provocative thought occurring that this tub was more than big enough for two.

Xxxxxxxxxxx

After she'd dressed again in her travelling clothes, Lucas commandeered the bedroom so that he could change into his wedding attire. He re-emerged ten minutes later in an elegant black morning suit, complete with white waistcoat and silk ascot, a traditional top hat in hand. Elizabeth arose from the settee in the sitting room, catching her breath at how handsome he was, this wonderful man who was about to be her husband.

"Oh, Lucas…" was all she could manage.

"Is it too much?" he asked self-consciously. "I know your gown is formal, and we'll be taking pictures. I could lose the top hat…"

"No! Please, don't change a thing. You look perfect, like every woman's fondest dream." She went to him then, straightened his ascot though it really didn't need to be, and tiptoed up to press her lips to his. "I can't wait to be your wife," she finished in a heartfelt whisper.

"And I, your husband."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The church was small but lovely, the very picture of a wedding venue, with its white façade, tall steeple and beautiful stained glass windows. They entered and met the minister and his wife, then stopped when they beheld the chapel, filled with flickering candles and lush pink roses.

"Lucas, how-? It's beautiful, but I assumed with only the two of us…"

He looked as surprised as she did. "I had nothing to do with this, I promise. I left Pastor Paul in charge of the flowers."

The minister smiled mysteriously. "This wasn't my doing either. Perhaps you brought along a guardian angel or two…"

"I'll show you to the lady's retiring room," intervened the minister's wife, Mrs. Porter.

"I'll see you at the altar," said Lucas warmly, and Elizabeth smiled back with all her love in her eyes.

Mrs. Porter took the white box from Lucas's hands and led Elizabeth away from the chapel, through a side door, and into a narrow hall. When she stopped at a door, Elizabeth was surprised when the woman rapped gently before quietly entering.

When Mrs. Porter moved aside, Elizabeth saw a stylishly dressed woman sitting in an arm chair, daintily sipping a cup of tea. "Mother!" she exclaimed.

Grace Thatcher set down her cup and stood, opening her arms for Elizabeth to walk into, while Mrs. Porter discreetly set down the box on a table and left them.

"Oh, my darling daughter," she crooned softly. Elizabeth reveled in her mother's embrace for a moment, conscious of all the times she'd needed her hugs lately, then stepped back to look at her in wonder.

"Mother, why—how are you here? Did Lucas do this?"

"Well, not exactly," said her mother. "He called your father to ask again for your hand. Imagine our surprise—we thought you would never go down that road again, and so soon after your second Mountie's passing, well…I insisted that your father take me here to see for myself that you were truly ready to marry this man. When Governor Bouchard said you were eloping today in Union City, he also mentioned the church to reassure us there wound be nothing tawdry or shameful about your wedding ceremony, that it was all completely aboveboard. He had no idea that we would take the first train from Hamilton. We traveled all night…"

Elizabeth frowned. "I wrote to you that Lucas and I had grown close again. About a week ago, we came to a new understanding and renewed our engagement. We didn't see a reason to wait any longer."

"But you might have informed me yourself."

"We were keeping it a secret from everyone, Mother—there are very good reasons for our discretion. For one, people whose feelings I truly care about might be hurt that we are marrying so soon after Nathan…"

Her mother nodded. "I can understand their concern. Now, come sit with me and reassure me that this is the best thing for you, how a year ago, a governor no less wasn't right for you, but now suddenly he is…?"

But Elizabeth didn't move to sit down. "First, he's no longer a governor—he never really wanted to be one. I was wrong about that. He was only doing it for Hope Valley, for me. But my fears of leaving, of my life changing, of going back to the kind of life I'd run away from, kept me from seeing that. I forgot for a time who Lucas really was, the kind of man he really was. I listened to everyone else but my own heart, and I regret hurting him, hurting myself. I regret all that happened with Nathan. But that's in the past, Mother. I want to move on with my life with Lucas. I love him, so deeply." Her eyes watered and her throat grew tight, trying not to cry and make her face all blotchy on her wedding day, though she had a feeling that would be a losing proposition by the end of the ceremony.

She took one of Lucas's handkerchiefs from her reticule and dabbed at her eyes. "But honestly, Mother, I don't have time to explain any more. You'll just have to trust me on this. Now, I am so glad you're here, but I must get dressed. I'm getting married to the man I love."

Her mother regarded her a moment. She knew her daughter, knew she had an adventurous spirit, a mind of her own, even though she didn't always understand her or agree with her choices. She'd long ago resigned herself to the fact that she would never have any sway with her decisions, that with Elizabeth, she must accept her for who she was or risk losing her completely. She put on a supportive smile, satisfied that her headstrong daughter wasn't walking blindly into a doomed marriage.

"Well, you must let me help you then. I missed your first wedding; I don't want to miss your second. Now, let's have a look at your dress…"

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"I can't believe you're here," said Lucas to his parents. He felt a strange mixture of happiness and annoyance to see Helen and Martin Bouchard standing before him in the vestibule of the church, having returned from checking in to their hotel. He hugged his mother, and stood still as his father kissed him on both cheeks.

"Mon fils bien-aimé," Martin said in French. My beloved son.

"Papa."

The man before Lucas was just as tall and handsome as his son, but somehow more imposing. Silver touched his black hair at the temples, additional threads shooting through his precisely trimmed beard. Martin's suit was impeccably tailored and expensive (at least one trait his son had assumed). Familiar dark eyes glowed with a somber light, reminding Lucas why he'd always loved and admired his father from a distance, though he'd never aspired to be like him—so serious-minded, so distant, so unbending at times. Martin Bouchard was a hard man to please. He was the consummate French gentleman, a man of infinite patience—except when it came to the failings of others-which was why he'd been briefly estranged from his wife.

Though Lucas never knew precisely what his mother had done to finally exhaust that renowned patience, amidst all the uncertainty in his young life-the extensive travelling, the lack of attention from his parents—he'd never before doubted that his parents loved one another. It was the one constant in his life, and when he'd learned of their brief separation, it had threatened to shake the very foundation of his beliefs about love. Thankfully, these beliefs had been renewed when his parents had found their way back to one another, and, if their discreet glances were any indication, were more in love than ever.

Lucas himself knew first-hand how it felt to disappoint his father. He'd taken a long time to find himself and to be as self-assured in his own worth as Martin always seemed to be. In the act of finding himself after college, instead of applying his business degree, Lucas had become a professional gambler, had involved himself for a time with the wrong people, the wrong women. It was only when he'd settled down, become a serious businessman in Hope Valley, that his father had welcomed his prodigal son back into the fold. When he'd become Governor, Martin had told him he was proud of him—the first time he'd said those words since Lucas was a child and had mastered the multiplication table. Breaking the news to his father that he'd resigned had been more difficult than disappointing the rest of the country.

And now, both of his parents stood before him on the most important day of his life. He had called them two days before to tell them of his elopement plans with Elizabeth. While Helen was thrilled for her son's happiness, his father still seemed to harbor skepticism about the woman who had left his only son three weeks before their first wedding date, a woman he had yet to meet. They'd exchanged a few heated words on the telephone as Lucas defended Elizabeth's character. His father had only calmed down when Lucas angrily pointed out how long it had taken Martin to win over Lucas's mother. Martin had at last agreed to reserve judgment, cautioning his son to marry Elizabeth only if he was completely certain he trusted her again.

"I'm so glad you're both here," he said now, only in that moment realizing how important it was that they bear witness to his joining his life with Elizabeth's. They'd been there for him on inauguration day; but to Lucas, this was by far the more meaningful ceremony.

"Papa," he said, "will you do me the honor of standing up for me at my wedding?"

Martin looked to his wife, who nodded back at her husband in approval. She was the only person whose advice Lucas had seen him take.

Martin held out his hand. "If you are certain, cher garçon…"

"I am, Father," replied Lucas, and solemnly shook his father's hand.

They moved into the chapel and Lucas once again admired the scent of roses and sweet beeswax candles.

"Did you do all this, Mother?"

"Yes, along with Elizabeth's mother. We met in the church just as the roses and candles were being delivered."

Lucas's eyes widened. "Mrs. Thatcher is here? Does Elizabeth know?"

"Since I don't see her in the chapel, I assume she's helping her get dressed."

It was then that Lucas became aware of another man sitting alone in a front pew. He must have quietly entered a side door while Lucas was greeting his parents.

"Who is that?" he asked, although he had a sneaking suspicion.

"Oh," confirmed Helen, "that distinguished gentleman is Elizabeth's father, William Thatcher."

Lucas sucked in a breath, his voice involuntarily trembling. "Wh-what?"

"I take it you haven't met him yet," said Martin, his lips briefly quirking in amusement.

"No—well, we've spoken on the telephone—but not in person."

"It's about time you met him then," said his mother. She walked ahead of them to stand beside the front pew. "Mr. Thatcher, my son has arrived at last."

Elizabeth's father stood, just as imposing a man as his own father, and reached out his hand. Thatcher's handshake was firm and confident, but Lucas hoped he couldn't detect how nervous he felt.

"Mr. Thatcher. It's an honor, sir."

"Governor Bouchard. I see you actually managed to get my daughter to the altar."

Lucas immediately relaxed at the spark of humor in the man's hazel eyes. "Yes, sir—at least, she's made it to the church," he finished dryly.

"One step at a time, I suppose. If I know my headstrong daughter, she wouldn't have made it this far unless she'd fully committed to the idea—and to you."

"That is my greatest hope, sir. And I'm no longer governor—please, call me Lucas."

Thatcher looked over at Martin. "You must have been very proud when your son became governor."

"I was, and I am even more so today. I trust he knew his own mind by resigning. A true man will always listen to his conscience when making a decision, and can admit when he has made a mistake." Here his eyes flitted to his wife. She blushed and found his hand.

For Lucas's part, he felt his father's praise as a jolt to his heart, felt his eyes become misty, and he tightened his jaw so he would not given in to emotion.

As his parents continued to talk to William Thatcher, a lovely, auburn-haired lady emerged from the same door Elizabeth had left through earlier, and Lucas had no doubt this was Elizabeth's mother. He moved to meet her.

"Mrs. Thatcher? I'm Lucas Bouchard. I'm so happy to finally meet you."

She had seen pictures her daughter had sent when they were previously engaged, but like most women meeting Lucas for the first time, she was taken aback by his undeniable charisma and incredible handsomeness. She offered her hand, which he took warmly between both of his.

"I can easily see why my daughter is so taken with you, Governor Bouchard."

"Lucas, please," he insisted, wondering if that title would ever be truly behind him. "And may I say, I see where your daughter gets her incredible beauty."

She smiled. "You are certainly charming, aren't you?"

"I'm being completely sincere, I assure you. Elizabeth is not only beautiful, but she is good and kind and the most wonderful woman I have ever met. Until this moment, of course." And here he let his humor shine through, letting her know, that while he was sincere in his compliments, he didn't take himself too seriously.

Uncharacteristically, Grace Thatcher laughed, completely disarmed.

"I've come to inform you that your bride awaits, and also, to give you this." She took the pink rosebud she'd been holding and pinned the boutonniere to the right side of his morning coat. She gently patted his cheek. "Welcome to the family, Lucas. I pray you and Elizabeth will make each other very happy."

"Thank you, Mrs. Thatcher."

Then she called softly to her husband: "William, I believe our daughter needs an escort."

Thatcher grinned and rubbed his hands together. "It's a banner year, for me, I tell you. My last two daughters are set to be married!"

Everyone chuckled, and Elizabeth's father went to find his daughter.

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

A few minutes later, Lucas awaited his bride near the altar, his father at his side, his mother and future mother-in-law sitting on the front pew, turning toward of the beginning of the aisle in anticipation. Mrs. Porter struck up the wedding march on the piano, and like a sudden summer breeze, Elizabeth alighted in the open doorway, her arm through her father's.

He caught his breath at the vision she made, all in white satin, her hair pulled up, the lace and tulle veil prettily framing her smiling face. Her skin seemed to glow in the candlelight, and he fairly itched to touch it, to kiss her pink lips and rosy cheeks. Her smile was wide and brilliant, her blue eyes shining with love as they met his. In her hands she held an enormous bouquet of the same pink roses adorning the front pew. Lucas marveled that the two mothers had been able to pull everything together in two short days, despite having travelled several hours to be there.

Mr. Thatcher and Elizabeth made it to the altar, and he kissed Elizabeth's cheek, shook Lucas's hand, and watched as his wife stepped up to take Elizabeth's bouquet. At the touch of Elizabeth's hands in his, despite how cold they were from nervousness, Lucas felt a frisson of warmth rush up his arms and into his heart.

"I love you," he mouthed to try to calm her, just as Mrs. Porter ended the music with a final flourish.

She took a deep breath and gratefully squeezed his hands before whispering her echoed reply.

"Dearly beloved," began Pastor Paul, "we are gathered here on this lovely summer's day to witness the joining of Elizabeth Thornton and Lucas Bouchard. Now, as much as I love the idea of a romantic elopement, I'm so pleased to see your parents have joined us, for isn't the loving support of our families one of God's greatest gifts?"

Everyone nodded and smiled, the bride and groom feeling that their happiness this day had expanded ten-fold.

"Lucas asked that we read his favorite verse from First Corinthians, for, as he told me, it has special meaning for this couple, who have endured separation and heartache, forgiveness and redemption in finding their way back to one another. It happens to be one of my favorites too," said the pastor with a wink.

"The scriptures say: 'If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing.

'Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking,it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of does not delight in evil but rejoices with the always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.' Amen."*

All in the church reverently repeated his Amen.

"Who gives this woman to this man?"

William Thatcher rose again and replied: "Her mother and I do."

The pastor nodded in approval, then, they said their vows, both promising to love, honor and cherish, in sickness and in health.

"May I add one more thing," asked Lucas.

"Of course," replied Pastor Paul.

"Long ago, on another summer's day, we exchanged our own vows. Do you remember?"

He looked into Elizabeth's eyes, her hands warming now in his. "Yes," she said, because she recalled the exact occasion, that day he'd lost the motorcycle-horse race to Nathan. His eyes softened when he saw she truly remembered.

"On that day, I promised I will hurry home to you every night, and I will pull myself from you every morning. I would like to renew that same vow here, before God, before you and our parents. If fate ever separates us again Elizabeth, please know, that I will be trying with all of my heart and soul to get back to you, to keep this promise, because you are the reason I stay. You are my adventure. You are my passion, and I will love you until—until my very last breath."

His voice broke a little at the end, but by then the tears were slipping down her cheeks, and she had to swallow hard over the lump in her throat so she could speak.

"I-I gave that same promise to you that day," she said, "and I want you to know that, even though I was lost for awhile, deep in my heart I always yearned to keep it. Today, before God, before you, before our parents, I too renew that vow, and I will love you until my very last breath."

Their mothers sniffled a bit into lace handkerchiefs, wiping damp cheeks. There was nothing more gratifying to them to see their children as deeply in love as they were with their own husbands, that they had found someone to be a partner, a helpmeet, a worthy companion through all of life's difficulties.

A bit misty-eyed himself, the pastor cleared his throat. "Well, uh, that was truly lovely. Now, may I have the rings please, before we're all too overcome?"

Everyone chuckled softly at the mild comic relief, and Lucas's father produced the rings Lucas had given him before the ceremony, the same rings he'd kept since their first engagement.

"Please place this ring on Elizabeth's hand and repeat after me: I give you this ring as a symbol of my love; and with all that I am and all that I have, I honor you."

Lucas repeated the words, slipping on the simple white gold band to join her engagement ring on her slim finger. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed the ring he'd just placed there, his eyes closed tightly as Elizabeth looked with love down at his dark head. She said the same words, taking Lucas's ring from Martin and placing it on her groom's finger.

"And now, by the powers vested in me by God and this province, I pronounce that you are now, husband and wife. You may kiss—"

Of course, they were already kissing, everyone else in the world disappearing but Lucas and Elizabeth, the taste of joyous tears on their lips. In that moment, they felt all the pain, loss, regret, and fear lifting from their hearts, replaced with the certainty that this was always how it was meant to be, that their love now was strong enough to withstand whatever life threw into their path. And then some.

A/N: *sigh* If only we would have gotten something similar on the show. Next up, the long-awaited wedding night…Thank you for reading.

PS: Oh, if I made a mistake, please pardon my French.

1 Corinthians 13:1-8 NIV. Note: I realize the NIV Bible didn't come out until much later, but I love the simple beauty of this version of these verses, even though I normally prefer King James for everything else.