A Hathaway Wedding (The Hathaways #2.5)(9)

“Stop at once!” came a booming, stentorian voice, and the entire congregation turned toward the back of the granary.

Beatrix’s stomach dropped as she recognized the man’s distinctive white moustache and goatee.

It was Mr. Fulloway, the owner of the traveling menagerie.

She didn’t dare glance at Ollie, but out of the periphery of her vision she saw his trunk withdraw stealthily into the barn.

“I’m here to retrieve stolen property,” Fulloway announced, his eyes narrowed to slits.

The man beside him carried a bull hook. He and Beatrix recognized each other at the same time. “That’s her, Mr. Fulloway,” he snapped. “The Hathaway girl I caught visiting Ollie in his pen yesterday. She’s the one who took him, I guarantee it!”

Leo stepped forward, suddenly looking every inch the aristocrat, his face hard, his eyes the icy blue of glaciers. “I am Lord Ramsay,” he said. “You’re trespassing on my estate. And in case you hadn’t noticed, you’re interrupting a wedding.”

Fulloway made a scoffing sound. “You can’t get married in a barn.”

“This isn’t a barn,” Leo said, “it’s our family chapel. There’s the vicar, and that fellow with the large fists and the feral gaze is the bridegroom. And if I were you I wouldn’t delay his wedding, or you may not live to see another morning.”

“I’m not leaving until I get my elephant,” Fulloway thundered. “He draws in paying customers, and I need him for my business, and besides, he’s mine.”

“He’s here, Mr. Fulloway!” came a muffled shout from the other side of the wall, and Beatrix realized with alarm that Fulloway had sent someone into the barn to look for Ollie.

The air was rent with a frightened trumpet. Ollie fled the barn and came racing into the attached granary, desperately seeking refuge. Seeing Beatrix, he went to hide behind her, his entire body trembling. She backed up to him protectively, and glared at the man with the bull hook as he strode toward her. “You can’t have him, you butcher!” she shouted.

“You’re a thief!” Fulloway bellowed. “I’ll have you prosecuted!”

The entire barn erupted into a cacophony, everyone shouting, Gypsies crowding in from outside, while Ollie trumpeted and screamed. Even the vicar had raised his voice in the effort to be heard.

Merripen viewed the chaos in the granary with baffled fury.

“Quiet!” he thundered.

Everyone fell silent. Even the elephant.

“For the next ten minutes,” Merripen warned the entire gathering, “no one is to move, speak, or even breathe. All of this will be sorted out after noon. For now, any one of you who interrupts will find himself tossed headfirst into the nearest grain bin.”

Win slipped her arm through his, and they turned to face the vicar.

As Merripen stared at him expectantly, the vicar proceeded. “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, so long as ye both shall live?”

“I will.” Merripen’s voice was quiet but strong.

The vicar asked the same of Win.

“I will.” A flush of happiness rose in her cheeks.

And the vows continued. “For better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish . . . with this Ring I thee wed, with my Body I thee worship . . .”

Finally, Merripen slid a simple gold band onto Win’s finger.

The vicar finished, “Those whom God hath joined together let no man put asunder.”

And in one impassioned, decidedly improper, highly romantic moment, Merripen bent to kiss his bride. Her lace-covered arms rose around his neck, and she clasped him tightly, their mutual joy radiating through the makeshift chapel.

Beatrix smiled and dabbed her eyes. Still standing behind her, Ollie waved the wedding veil briskly, the tail of it flapping against her side.

“Now,” Mr. Fulloway said, coming forward, “I’ll take my elephant.”

“No,” Beatrix cried, glancing desperately at her family. “They’ll kill him as they did his mother. Look at the wounds around his neck, and the—”

“Hush,” Merripen said, making a staying gesture with his hand. Keeping his gaze on Fulloway, Merripen paused as Win stood on her toes to whisper something in his ear. He smiled ruefully. “Anything you ask,” he murmured. Stepping forward, Merripen inserted himself between Fulloway and the elephant. “It seems that my wife—” He hesitated almost imperceptibly, seeming to savor the last two words,

“would like to have the elephant as a wedding present. Which means we’ll be negotiating for him.”

“I’m not open to bargaining,” Fulloway said. “He’s the only elephant I’ve got left, and—”

“You misunderstand,” Merripen interrupted quietly. “I’m not asking if we can negotiate, I’m informing you that we will.”

Fulloway’s complexion reddened behind snowy swaths of facial hair. “No one tells me what to do. Do you know who I am?” He turned to gesture sharply to the man with the bull hook.

But at that precise moment Cam grasped the man’s wrist, twisted sharply, and the bull hook clattered to the floor.