Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 130924 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 655(@200wpm)___ 524(@250wpm)___ 436(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130924 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 655(@200wpm)___ 524(@250wpm)___ 436(@300wpm)
Which is why when I asked her to be my maid-of-honor for my wedding to Crane, she was happy to take part, and when I asked her to be a witness to my marriage with Brom, she wanted to be a part of that, too.
Of course, legally I can’t be married to two men at once, but we figured since my marriage to Crane took place in the state of New York, and this marriage to Brom will take place on international waters, it will still be honored. If not by the world, then by us, and that’s what really counts.
“Let’s go,” Crane says, putting his hand on my lower back.
We step out into the hall of the great ship, Famke’s room right across the way, and head through the corridors until we end up near the top deck beside the navigation bridge. I get a few appreciative nods as I go past some of the passengers, some of whom I’ve already seen a few times during the last week at sea. They probably don’t know who I’m marrying at this point since I’ve been seen around Brom and Crane equally.
Crane and I haven’t been wearing our wedding rings during the crossing, but I’ve been keeping it on the necklace chain, right next to the protective amulet Famke gave me, which is hanging in our cabin.
We enter the captain’s stateroom right beside the bridge, a small space lined with maps and books and teak furniture and, standing right beside the captain with a large window overlooking the grey Atlantic, is Brom.
He’s never looked more handsome. His beard is neatly trimmed, his dark eyes seeming brighter and lighter than they’ve ever been, wearing a dark tailored suit that fits him perfectly. He grins at me, dimples flashing, and I’ve never felt more in love.
Even Crane’s breath hitches from beside me. “Jesus, he’s pretty.”
Famke takes my arm and leads me toward them as Crane goes and stands to the side of Brom, acting as his best man, which he well and truly is.
“I have to admit,” the captain says, a grizzled older gentleman with a kind smile. “I don’t get asked to officiate many weddings. I hope you know you will still have to file all the paperwork when you arrive in England.”
“That won’t be an issue,” Crane says, and the captain gives him a queer look, wondering why he’s speaking for us.
“Well, with that said, let’s get this started,” the captain says and gestures for me to stand beside Brom, which I do, the two of us turning to face the captain.
Brom clasps his hands at his front, gives me a side-long glance and a quick smile, checking in on me, and I can’t help but beam up at him in return.
It’s been a long time coming.
The captain clears his throat. “We are gathered here, near the end of our Atlantic crossing, on this beautiful winter day of January 30th, 1876, to celebrate and bring together the lives of these two people who are very much in love, Abraham Van Brunt and Katrina Van Tassel, into holy wedded matrimony.”
He turns to Brom. “Now, repeat after me, I, Abraham Van Brunt, take thee, Katrina Van Tassel, to be my wedded wife,” the captain says and my heart twists at the mention of my maiden name. I’ve been known as Mrs. Katrina Crane for the past two months, the first woman in my family to take a man’s name. As complicated as it’s been to grieve the loss of my mother, I was happy to leave my family name behind.
Brom squeezes my hands, staring into my eyes so deeply that it makes my knees want to buckle. “I, Abraham Van Brunt, take thee, Katrina Van Tassel, to be my wedded wife.”
“To have and to hold from this day forward,” the captain goes on, “for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part, according to God’s holy ordinance; and thereto I pledge thee my faith.”
Brom repeats it all, each word burning with intention.
“Now, Katrina, it’s your turn,” the captain says and he walks me through the vows again, having me repeat them the same way Brom did.
I say every word.
I mean every word.
“I pledge thee my faith,” I say to From, feeling that golden coil of energy inside me. My faith is for him, to him, for us.
“Now, the ring,” the captain says.
Crane comes forward, a sheepish look in his eyes as he holds the ring out for Brom. “Sorry, I probably should have given this to you earlier. I thought I lost it in the room.”
I roll my eyes. Some things never change.
Brom laughs and takes the ring from Crane’s fingers and I can’t help but notice the way their fingers brush against each other, the way Crane’s gaze burns on his, the smallest details that warms my heart.