Glory Read Free

you want out of me?” she demanded fiercely.
    “Well, an admission that something happened.”
    She gritted her teeth and her eyes touched his with a glitter of anger. “Oh, my God, don’t you understand? I didn’t want anything to happen, I still can’t believe that I ... that I ...”
    “Mistook a flesh-and-blood man for Richard’s ghost.”
    They still stood the length of the aisle apart. He thought that she would have slapped him had they not. Perhaps he deserved it. It was simply hard to have been used as a substitute, then summoned as a social convenience. But if there was a child ...
    He waved a hand in the air. “Never mind. As you pointed out in your letter, it’s a deadly war. I want my child born with my name—it is my child, right? You haven’t been seducing other men in the midst of drug-induced illusions, have you?”
    She stared at him with regal disdain, then started down the aisle to pass him by. “You never mind. Whatever comes in the future will have to come. Nothing could be so wretched as you—”
    He didn’t allow her past him. He caught her arm, and forced her eyes to his. “Where’s the priest, Rhiannon?”
    “What?”
    “You summoned me to marry you. Where’s the priest?”
    Her eyes widened. “He’s—he’s on his way. I—I needed time to talk with you, to ask you first, naturally, to—”
    “To set me up?” he accused softly.
    “No! I—I—” she stuttered. Her lashes fell again. “Damn you! I need you to marry me.” She stared at him again, fire in her gaze once again. “Do you wish to do it or not?”
    He hesitated, smiling slowly.
    “If you’ve just come to torment me, let go—”
    “Marry you? Of course, with the greatest pleasure. How could I possibly refuse such a heartfelt request?”
    A sound at the door sent him spinning around. Damn her! She so easily taunted him from the care he usually took. But it was Father Vickery who had come, the young Georgian Episcopal priest.
    “I’m sorry I’ve taken so long,” he apologized, nervously stroking his chin as he hurried in. “I wanted to make sure that I properly record the marriage, assure that it’s legal.”
    “Of course!” Rhiannon said softly. “You were sent here, to help us, of course?” she queried.
    Julian watched her. Had she been expecting a priest? Or was she assuming Vickery had been sent by her Yankee cohorts?
    Vickery cleared his throat. “We needed witnesses as well,” he said, opening the door a few inches farther. “I really moved as quickly as I could, recruiting these ladies!”
    Two young women had accompanied them. They both smiled.
    “This is so romantic!” said the rounder of the pair. “I’m Emma Darrow, this is my sister, Lucy.”
    “Lovely, just lovely!” Lucy agreed.
    “Thank you,” Rhiannon murmured.
    “Charmed!” Emma supplied, and giggled.
    “So lovely!” Lucy said again.
    “We must hurry and get back. The dawn is beginning to break in earnest, and God knows what horrors today will bring!” Father Vickery said. He caught Rhiannon’s hand, hurrying down the aisle with her. “You stand there. I’ll give you into marriage myself—you are the lady in question, right?”
    “Yes, she is, Father,” Julian supplied dryly, since she was the only other female present. If the whole thing weren’t so sad, it would be amusing.
    But Father Vickery, though nervous, suddenly seemed to have his wits about him. He began the rite of marriage, speaking very quickly, but clearly. When it came time for Rhiannon to give her vows, she stared at Julian in white silence.
    He squeezed her hand so tightly she eked out a cry, but then, choking over the words, she spoke them. Clearly. Loudly. Keeping her hand tight in his, Julian gave his promise to love, honor, and cherish her, as long as they both should live. He used his family signet ring for a wedding band.
    “I now pronounce you man and wife. Kiss your bride, and get back to camp!” Father Vickery said. He hurriedly