Shay stood before the mirror, her heart in her throat. She hadn't heard a word from the duke, and wondered if she would be walking into a church to find the groom hadn't appeared. That thought didn't sit very well with her for some reason. She'd even sent a letter apologising for her rudeness, but there had been no reply.

The only thing she knew was guests, from far and wide, had arrived in the village and were staying in every available accommodation there was.

*

"Gosh, Sammy, you've left your run a bit late," James said as he galloped beside Sam with Mathew and Omar not far behind.

"I'm a busy man," Samuel growled as he stared ahead. He'd received Shay's letter and hadn't yet decided if it was an apology or not. He ran the words over in his head, knowing them by heart, because he'd read the damn letter more times than he could count.

To Your Grace, The Duke of Irvine.

The thought of those words made him bristle. It drove him mad to think she'd begun with such formality, and to he, her fiancé.

I am very regretful of my actions towards you on the night of The King's Ball. You were very kind and considerate to have sat on guard over me, in my time of exhaustion. Something I will always remember and appreciate.

What did she think he was, a bloody dog, standing over its bone? On guard! Like he was some god damn foot soldier! The hide of the woman!

Your humble servant,

Miss Shay Lytton.

Humble servant! He'd give her humble bloody servant! There was nothing humble about the wench! He'd teach her a lesson or two on how to be his humble servant once they'd married.

*

Omar watched Samuel's face get darker and darker. Poor Cole was being ridden harder than Omar had ever seen. The horse, along with his own, was a lather of sweat. "What is your problem Mlik Sámi?" Omar yelled in Arabic over the drum of hooves hitting hard dirt. Samuel's dark side had resurfaced worse than it ever had, since killing Captain Lois, so Omar chose to addressed him by his devil's name.

James dropped back and waited until Mathew caught up with him. He nudged his head toward Samuel and Omar, who were now disappearing into the distance. "They're at it again." He took a breath and gave Mathew a frown. "Have you noticed how bad-tempered Sam's been lately."

"Oh, yes," Mathew agreed. "I stay well away when the lord of darkness appears." He chuckled and added, "Omar is the only one brave enough to go near him, and then he only speaks to Sammy in Arabic."

"So, you noticed that too." James mused. "He seems to calm down after Omar speaks to him." A smirk covered his face as he said, "I hope he can work his magic before we get to this church. God won't let the devil through his door, and that poor girl will get singed. She'll put her heels in deeper than she already has, when she sees his mood."

"I think that's what the problem is," Mathew said. "She means a lot to him. I think he really cares about her, but she keeps rejecting him. That story he told us about her eyes getting him through the horrible life he had to endure, really made that clear to me."

"I think you're correct, Matty." James gave him a forlorn look, and then smiled. "However, everything Sammy touches seems to turn into gold. She'll either change into stone or glitter." His eyes widened. "Do you want to wager which way this marriage will go? Cold stone, or warm glitter?"

"You're on!" Mathew laughed. "I'm betting on stone."

"That leaves me with glitter," chuckled James. He kicked his horse into a canter. "We better hurry, or we'll miss seeing if Sammy manages to get through the church doorway without being struck down."

*

Omar shook his head. "I have no knowledge of how the English write letters, let alone to one who holds the rank that you do." He lifted his shoulders, and then let them fall back into place. "You are not yet married, so she is probably doing the correct thing in addressing you formally. Her apology, or whatever it is, is most likely written as it is, because she hasn't understood how you feel about her. Not many would let someone vomit on them without at least jumping out of the way. True?"

"I suppose not." Sam sighed. He was so confused. "Still..."

"Ugh, ugh." Omar shook his head with more force. "You are allowing Mlik Sámi to take control. You must push him into the background. This girl will never be comfortable with him."

Sam scoffed. "She's not comfortable with the Duke of Irvine either, so what does it matter?"

"Ah..." Omar grinned. "Then you must allow her to marry Samuel Denyer, my friend."

Samuel laughed. Omar always gave him the right answers. When they dismounted, he strode around his horse and drew Omar into firm hug. "You are my greatest friend, Omar," he whispered. "You are father, brother, servant and master to me and, I am, because of you, my friend. I love you with all my heart."

Gently pushing Samuel away, Omar put his hands on either side of Sam's face, kissed each cheek and smiled as he held Sam's head in his palms. "If I am father, then you are son. If I am brother, then you are brother. If I am servant, then you are master. If I am master, then you must obey me." He grinned. "Go now, and marry the woman you love with no anger in your heart, and she will see what I see."

Gosh. I hope this marriage works.

And what a wise man, Omar is. ♥♥

Caspar David Friedrich - Two Men Contemplating the Moon - 1825 -1830