Michael Ford - Jane Vows Vengeance

“Not yet,” Walter said.

Jane stiffened, waiting for his next words.

“Can I see you in private for a minute?” Walter said.

Jane nodded, afraid to speak. Walter took her hand and led her out of the chapel.

They returned five minutes later. When they entered, both had clearly been crying. But they also had smiles on their faces, and when Lucy looked at Jane and silently mouthed, “Are you okay?” Jane nodded.

Once more Jane found herself standing in front of Ben.

“Dearly beloved,” he began. “We are gathered here—again—to celebrate the marriage of Walter Aaron Fletcher and Elizabeth Jane Fairfax.” He paused and Jane tensed, knowing what was coming next. “If anyone can show just cause as to why these two should not be joined together in holy matrimony, let him speak now,” Ben said.

“Well, since you asked—” Byron began.

“Shut up!” Jane, Lucy, Miriam, and William said as one.

“I was only joking,” Byron muttered, then yelped as Lucy pinched the back of his arm.

“Walter and Jane will now exchange vows,” Ben said.

Walter turned and, holding Jane’s hands, began to speak. “I, Walter, take you, Jane, to be my wife. To have and to hold. To love and to cherish. In sick—”

“Wait a minute!” Byron said.

Jane and Walter looked at him.

“Those are your vows? Really?” He huffed and rolled his eyes. “And you call yourself a writer,” he said to Jane.

“They’re traditional,” Jane said defensively.

“They’re dull ,” said Byron. “Just a moment. Who has a pen?”

Miriam produced a pen from her bag and handed it to him. Byron removed a train ticket stub from his coat pocket and began to write on it. He paused a moment, closing his eyes and tapping the pen against his forehead.

“What are you doing?” Jane asked, growing annoyed.

“Quiet!” Byron ordered. “I’m trying to think.”

He scribbled some more on the ticket and set it aside. Then he searched his pockets and came up with another piece of paper, this one a crumpled sales receipt for a box of cough drops. He smoothed it out and once more set to writing. When he was done he handed the train ticket to Walter and the receipt to Jane.

“There you are,” he said. “Now proceed.”

Walter peered closely at the train ticket. “I, Walter, take you, Jane, as my beloved wife and friend. As we walk this world together I promise to guard your heart from despair and worry. I will be your champion and rejoice in your accomplishments as if they are my own. When you laugh I will laugh with you, and when you cry I will kiss away your tears. Something about a white-winged dove.”

“Not that bit,” Byron called out. “It was just an idea. Sorry. Should have excised it.”

“I will be your constant companion until the end of this world and the beginning of the next,” Walter concluded.

Jane, who was trying very hard not to cry, sniffed. “I, Jane, take you, Walter, as my beloved husband and friend. I promise to make our journey together one of adventure and discovery. Every morning I will wake beside you, and every night I will go to sleep in your arms. My dreams will be yours, and yours mine.” She choked up a little, and Walter squeezed her hand. “I will be your true love and heart’s east—”

“Ease!” Byron shouted. “His heart’s ease!” He shook his head. “I give up!”

“Your true love and your heart’s ease until the end of this world and the beginning of the next,” she concluded.

“I believe there are rings to be exchanged,” said Ben.

“Yes, there are,” said Lucy. “Sorry. I forgot all about them.”

She got up and came forward. She handed one ring to Walter and one to Jane. Walter held Jane’s hand as he slid his ring onto her finger, and then Jane did the same with her ring.

“Now that you have stood before us and exchanged these rings and these vows, it is my great pleasure to pronounce you husband and wife,” Ben said.

To much applause, Walter kissed Jane. Then, not knowing what else to do, he kissed her again. Moments later they were surrounded by their friends, being hugged and kissed all around.

“That was quite nice,” Prince Edward said to the First Duke of York.

“But not quite as thrilling as a beheading,” said Richard.

“Well, no, not quite that nice,” agreed his brother.

“I’m not sure what we do now,” Jane said after she’d run out of people to hug. “Shall we go to breakfast?”

“I think tradition dictates that you leave for your honeymoon,” William suggested.

Jane looked at Walter. “But we haven’t really planned any—”

“Actually, I had an idea,” Walter said.

Jane looked around her bedroom. “It looks very much the same,” she told Walter.

Chawton Cottage was quite crowded. Walter and Jane had arrived at the same time as a tour group from the United States, and as they walked through the rooms of Jane’s old home they were constantly competing with ladies dressed in period costumes clutching bags from the gift shop.

“Too bad you’re not getting a piece of this action,” Walter said.

“I know,” said Jane. “Can you imagine what we could make on this pile if we turned it into a bed and breakfast? Everyone would want to sleep in my bed.”

“Hey,” Walter said. “I’m the only one who gets to sleep in your bed.”

Jane laughed. “Let’s go out into the garden,” she suggested.

It was raining lightly, enough to keep most visitors inside the house but not so heavy that being outdoors was unpleasant. The grass was green, and the yard was coming alive with bluebells and violets. Jane and Walter sat down on a bench and enjoyed the quiet.

“I used to sit here quite a lot,” Jane said. “Particularly when something in a plot was vexing me. I’d sit here and look for pictures in the clouds or in the stars. Almost always I would come away with a clear head and my problem solved.”

“It must be strange seeing people going through your house,” said Walter.

“A bit, yes,” Jane agreed. “But it’s not my house any longer. It belongs to them, really. They’re the reason people still know who I am.”

“I can’t believe you wrote all of your novels on that little desk,” Walter said. “And by hand . I think most writers today would give up if they didn’t have computers.”

“It certainly made me think good and hard about what I wanted to say before committing the words to the page,” Jane said. “And it was hell on the eyes.”

“We’ll have a proper honeymoon later,” Walter said. “I just thought this would nice to have a few days on our own before we head back.”

Jane sighed. “We’re going to have to have a wedding all over again,” she said. “I don’t know if I can take it.”

Walter took her hand. “This time we’ll let Lucy and my mother handle everything,” he said. “We had the wedding we wanted.”

“Was it really the wedding you wanted?” Jane asked him.

“You were there,” said Walter. “That’s all I wanted.”

“Byron’s rubbing off on you, I see,” Jane said, kissing him on the cheek.

“Nope. I came up with that all on my own,” said Walter. “Besides, it’s true. You’re all I ever wanted.”

“We’ll see if you say that when the honeymoon is over,” Jane said.

Walter was quiet for a minute, then said, “Where do you think Char—Our Gloomy Friend went?”

Jane smiled. “You catch on quick,” she said. “And I don’t know. She has a way of disappearing and then popping up again when it’s most inconvenient.”

“Do you think she’ll try to use the fake Needle?”

“Not before she tricks some other poor sucker into trying it first,” Jane answered. “She’s many things, but she’s no fool. She won’t try it on herself until she knows it works.”