He withdrew a white linen handkerchief from his pocket and used it to dry her tears. Elizabeth couldn’t remember a time anyone had cared enough to do that. He hugged her briefly before allowing her to get up then pressed a chaste kiss to her temple.
“It’ll be all right, Lizzie, ye’ll see.”
As if on cue, the sheriff, his wife, and the judge joined them.
Gavan took her hand in his, and they faced the judge.
The judge began to speak about marriage and its promises and duties.
Elizabeth found herself focusing on anything other than what was being said until he asked Gavan to take his vows.
“I, Gavan MacLean, take thee, Elizabeth Morgan, to be my wedded wife, to have and to hold …”
Then, she tuned him out as well.
The judge turned to her, as did the eyes of all the others crowded into her small cell.
“Do you,” intoned the judge, “Elizabeth Morgan, take Gavan MacLean to be your wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, honor, and obey until death do you part and according to God’s holy ordinance?”
Elizabeth could feel their eyes boring holes into her soul. Would it be so wrong to just let them hang her and be done with it? What did she know about this man, other that his hands could deliver pain and pleasure in equal measure?
“Lizzie, ye need to say I do,” Gavan prompted her.
She said nothing, trying to see if there was any way out, any way to escape. A hard swat to her rump jolted her from her internal musings.
“Shit! That hurts,” she snarled at Gavan.
“Aye, lass, it was supposed to. Now, ye either take yer vows, or I’ll put ye back over my knee and ye’ll take them as I paddle yer backside to an even deeper shade of red. Now, Lizzie,” he growled.
“Why? Why do you want to marry me?”
“Because yer the most important thing to me. This is the only way to keep ye alive. Ye needn’t fear, lass, ye’ll be well cared for,” Gavan said, keeping his voice even.
“Like you took care of me when you beat my ass?” she hissed. “Like when you took liberties with me before we were wed?”
“That’s enough, Lizzie. I warned ye if ye didn’t agree to behave and agree to take yer vows, I’d spank ye, which is what I did. All I did after that was to offer ye a little comfort, which ye seemed to greatly enjoy. Now, ye either say ‘I do,’ or I’ll put ye back over my knee, and ye’ll answer properly in short order.”
“I’m waiting for your answer, Elizabeth,” said the judge.
She scanned the faces of those who surrounded her; there was no sympathy there. Gavan’s grip on her arm reminded her there was no escape. Delaying the inevitable would do nothing more than get her spanked again. But her chance of escape would present itself, and she’d be ready.
“As I seem to have no choice, I do,” she said, bitterly.
Gavan placed a simple silver wedding band with an intricate design and three gemstones on her finger before placing a simple band with the same design on his own.
“Then, by the powers vested in me, I pronounce you man and wife,” said the judge. “Try to be happy, Elizabeth, I believe this man cares for you.”
Elizabeth snorted. “What you believe is that you won’t have to feel guilty for killing the daughter of your dead best friend, the daughter who you never once lifted so much as a finger to help.”
Gavan’s response was quick, painful, and set her up on her tiptoes. “Enough, Lizzie. Ye behave. The judge saved yer life. Now, apologize for showing him the sharp side of yer tongue.”
When she hesitated, he swatted her again.
“Fine. I apologize.”
Gavan shook his head. “Ye’d best get it through yer head that yer going to mind me, else it will be a long and painful ride home for ye.” Gavan turned to the judge. “I promised ye, Lizzie and I would be gone tonight, and I think we need to head out.”
The sheriff had left her cell but returned with a set of manacles and what appeared to be a sharpening strap for a man’s razor.
“I think you might need these,” he said handing both to Gavan.
Her new husband tucked both into the saddle bags he had tossed over his shoulder and led her to the livery stable, where he swung up on his big Appaloosa.
Another man, the fair one from the trial, the one who seemed to be her new husband’s opposite and opposing force, held a buckskin and a bay packhorse. The other man handed her a parcel.
Her husband quirked an eyebrow at him.
“She isn’t going to wear trousers. Those are meant for a man, and she’s anything but manly,” he answered the unverbalized question. “Ye know, as well as I do, that every man in that courtroom was looking at her feminine bits.”
“Ye have to admit, her feminine bits are enchanting, so ye canna blame them.”
“Aye, but she’s ours now, and I’ll nay have other men coveting what’s ours.”
Gavan laughed. “Are ye daff? Just because you put a skirt over it doesn’t mean men aren’t going to look and imagine themselves between her thighs.”
Elizabeth tried to punch him, and he, once again, used her own inertia to redirect her energy and landed several more swats on her bottom, making her dance.
“Enough, Lizzie. Yer a beautiful woman, and some men are always thinking about getting between a pretty girl’s legs.”
“Only some?” Elizabeth asked, sarcastically.
Gavan smacked her backside again. “I said enough, Lizzie. Ye watch yer mouth, lass, or I’ll find some soap and water to wash it out for ye. And, aye, some. Men like Caelan and me, once we’re
