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When all the legal documents were signed, sealed, and witnessed, Shrewsbury heaved a great sigh of relief and proceeded with the secret plans he was making for their wedding. He took Bess's family into his confidence, telling them his intent to carry her off and swearing them to secrecy so they wouldn't spoil the surprise.
On a gloriously warm day in August, Shrewsbury arrived at Chatsworth with only a groom in attendance. “I want you to ride out with me today.”
“Shrew, you know we cannot run off alone. Besides, I'm trying to pack all the things I'll need to take to Sheffield.”
“I'd like your opinion on a piece of property.” He knew that nothing in the world was closer to her heart than land. “It will be perfectly proper; I have a groom with me, and you can bring Cecily along if you're worried about your damned reputation.”
“All right,” she agreed with a radiant smile. There was a serious matter that Bess wished to discuss with him, and this might be the perfect opportunity. She had long harbored the ambition of betrothing a couple of her Cavendish children to Talbots but had never dared broach the subject, especially in light of all the concessions he had made in her marriage settlement.
Her head told her to wait until they were securely married before she revealed her ambitions, in case he became incensed at her audacity. But her conscience nagged at her to be open and honest in her dealings with him, and she decided to speak of it today if she got the chance.
When they rode into Nottinghamshire, Bess realized they were going in the direction of Rufford Abbey, on the edge of Sherwood Forest. “Is this property close to Rufford?”
He heard the excitement in her voice. “Extremely close,” he admitted.
“You black devil, if I'd known of such a property, I would have bought it for myself!”
“Vixen, you are going to have to stop thinking in terms of yours and mine. From now on it is ours.”
“Do you truly mean that?”
“I do,” he vowed solemnly. “What's mine is yours”— he slanted an amused brow at her—“though obviously what's yours you are determined to keep, you avaricious little jade.”
Her laugh was sultry. She knew he was mad in love with her and ready to give her the moon and the stars. “Let's visit Rufford. I vow ’tis the most romantic place I've ever seen.”
He pretended reluctance but gave in to her wishes and sent his groom and Cecily ahead to warn the servants of their impending arrival. When they came to the first stream, they let their horses drink, and Shrewsbury lifted her from her saddle and sat her before him between his thighs.
She reveled in his great strength and lifted her mouth to his for the first kiss they had shared in weeks. She wondered if she dared make love on the forest floor and arrive at Rufford flushed and disheveled, with every Talbot servant guessing correctly what they had been up to.
His arms encircled her, his hands captured her breasts, then he bent his head to whisper in her ear. “I have abducted you, beauty. We will share a bed tonight. I give you no choice in the matter.”
Bess thrilled at his possessive tone and knew a protest would be useless. Once Shrewsbury made up his mind about something, it was impossible to dissuade him. And why would she do such a ridiculous thing anyway? It seemed they had waited a lifetime.
He dismounted and lifted her down to him, and the two horses contentedly nibbled the lush green grass that sprang up against the cloistered walls of the ancient abbey. He took Bess's hand and led her beneath a stone arch into a small open courtyard, surrounded by a secluded covered walk. “I want us to exchange vows today, here in the abbey's chapel. I want it to be simple and private. Will you marry me, Bess?”
She was taken by surprise. “You brought me here to get married today?” It is August 20, my fateful day, and the day I married Cavendish all those years ago. Her eyes sought Shrewsbury's, and suddenly, realization dawned on her. He knows.… He knows exactly what day it is. He is determined to lay the ghost of Rogue Cavendish to rest. The corners of her mouth went up. “Yes, I will marry you, yes,” she said quickly.
At dawn this morning, when she'd first opened her eyes and realized it was her wedding anniversary with William, she had said her final farewell to the father of her children. She knew he would approve of this marriage that would elevate her to the highest ranks of the nobility, and not only because of the advantages it would provide for their Cavendish children. He would heartily approve of her finding a great love once again.
When they entered the chapel hand in hand, a priest awaited them at the altar. Cecily and the groom, sitting in a side pew, were their only witnesses. Bess suddenly felt shy, as if she were becoming a bride for the first time. She looked up at the darkly handsome man at her side and felt tears flood her eyes. Lovingly, he raised her hand to his lips, then drew her down to kneel beside him while they pledged their vows.
The priest solemnly charged Shrewsbury: “Wilt thou have this woman to thy wedded wife, to live together after God's ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony? Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honor and keep her, in sickness and in health, and forsaking all other, keep thee only unto her, as long as you both shall live?”
Shrewsbury squeezed her hand. “I will.”
He has just vowed to be faithful to me for the rest of his life —and he means it!Her heart overflowed with love.
Now the priest was charging her, adding two more questions: “Wilt though obey him and serve him?”
“I will,” Bess promised. At least I'll try! She added the qualification silently.
Shrewsbury let go of her right hand and took hold of her left. He removed the huge diamond and emerald ring from her finger and slipped on a wide gold band, set with matching stones. “With this ring I thee wed, with my body I thee honor, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow.” He then slipped the priceless betrothal ring back onto her third finger.
He has just made me the wealthiest woman in England, after the queen!Bess suddenly felt dizzy. She heard the priest pronounce them one flesh and knew that they were now man and wife. She felt her husband's arm slip about her and draw her into the vestry to sign the register, which lay open on a refectory table. As their witnesses joined them, the groom smiled down at her and handed her the quill. Bess hesitated, her mind going blank for a moment, then a radiant smile transformed her face and she signed with a flourish, Elizabeth, Countess of Shrewsbury.
The bridegroom added his signature to the chapel register, then he enfolded her in his arms. “May I kiss the bride?”
Bess laughed up into his face. “I've never heard you ask before.” She lifted her lips and was amazed that he did not ravish her mouth. The kiss was perfect.
