Chapter Text
There were two things Belle Fox knew for certain about Jack Dawkins.
The first, was that he was an absolutely reckless fool who gambled with his life on every occasion he got.
The second, was that he loved her wholeheartedly, and with his entire being. More than surgery, more than money, more than danger and thievery, more than anything.
He had a funny way of showing it sometimes though, Belle couldn’t help but think.
Six months. Six months since she’d seen him. Damn her meddling mother, she’d gone to incredible lengths to keep Belle separated from her doctor, all because Lady Fox believed he’d ruined Belle, believed he wasn’t good enough for her, rather than focusing on the fact that he’d saved her daughter’s life with a brilliant and experimental surgery no one had ever successfully performed before.
Jack was an incredible doctor, but he’d never be good enough in Mother’s eyes. No money, no title, no prospects. Nothing but his love for Belle, and apparently that didn’t suffice.
Belle never thought she’d ever actually feel hatred towards her mother. Resentment, yes. Irritation, frustration, exasperation; all of those things she’d felt when dealing with her mother, but this hatred was a relatively new emotion to point in her mother’s direction.
So, after six months without Jack, recovering by herself with Sneed as her doctor overseeing the process, and being completely forbidden from surgery—an idiotic choice, in Belle’s opinion. Rainsford was damn near run off his feet in the hospital without Jack to help him anymore—Belle had been obsessively searching for any pieces of evidence that would clear Jack’s name and free him from prison.
And then he’d died. She’d been too late.
The pain in her chest was more excruciating even than the pain of her aortic aneurysm rupturing, worse than the pain of her surgical scar healing over. Her kind, loving Jack had dropped and swung and the sound of his neck snapping had made Belle want to vomit.
Only for it to have been someone else.
Where was Jack?
He’d left her. He’d tried to leave her. He’d been running for the docks and was going to leave her here in this infernal colony by herself.
He could’ve at least asked her to run away with him, she more than likely could’ve been persuaded to do so if it meant they could be together. She would’ve run away with him the last time he’d asked if she hadn’t been dying at the time.
Rather inconvenient, but alas.
When she saw him in the hospital again, Belle had no idea what to feel. Relief he was alive, that he hadn’t been hanged. Fear for what would happen to him, to them, next. Anger at him for ignoring her letters, for pulling an idiotic stunt like this when she was so close to getting him freed legally and making it possible for them to be together.
The anger won out in the end.
She punched him. Quite hard.
But then when he protested in shock at her behaviour and immediately started arguing with her, all Belle felt was love. He was alive, and for the first time in six months she was hearing his voice. She couldn’t even find it in herself to be angry at him anymore, not when he was the closest he’d been to her in half an entire year.
Something pulled in her chest, and while normally any pain in her chest could’ve easily sent her into a panic that her heart was failing again, this time Belle knew it wasn’t that. She only wanted to be next to him, she wanted to stay with him, she was drawn helplessly and inexplicably to him.
They worked together saving the man with the shark bite, and Belle immediately fell back into that old familiar routine they’d had together before all of this mayhem had occurred. Back when she was just Lady Belle, and he was just Doctor Dawkins, and they collaborated excellently together to improve the general state of the hospital and occasionally kissed in the linens closet.
And then her mother had to go and ruin everything again.
The damn woman really was relentless.
So now Belle was forbidden to go to the hospital, forbidden to see the man she loved, forbidden to perform any surgeries, and if she broke any of the above rules, her mother would burn those precious letters and Jack would die.
Die.
The stakes seemed pretty high, one wrong move and everything would fall apart. It would seem these rules were ironclad and admittedly appeared impossible to skirt around without getting caught.
So naturally Jack immediately started breaking them.
Belle had an underlying feeling of anxiety and fear the whole time she met with him in the church, like any second someone would walk in on them and he’d be dragged off to the noose and it would be all her fault.
He seemed so dismissive, only asking what she knew of blood transfusions and seemingly having no interest in discussing what had happened this morning. Like he didn’t care.
Belle thought he cared. Had she been wrong this whole time? Had six months apart made him realise his feelings were not the same as hers? Did he just want to leave Port Victory and start anew somewhere else? Away from her?
She was angry, yelling instructions and orders at him in order to keep their patient alive. A transfusion would be pointless if the location of the bleeding wasn’t found and stopped. And then he turned back around, looking almost resigned.
“This is why it’s so stupid, us staying apart,” he muttered, stalking back towards her. “Why are we even doing it?”
Was he insane? “So you don’t get hanged!” she said incredulously.
Did he seriously not realise the danger of this? Even now, in this fleeting moment in the church, one eyewitness and he was as good as dead. It’s only for two years, she tried to remind him. Surely he could do that for her? Could he not try and do that for her? She’d be a doctor, he’d be free, they could be together, maybe even start their own clinic and be happy.
Jack was a lot more pessimistic about the idea. He didn’t have two years, in his opinion.
“I have now, and I love you now,” he said firmly, drawing closer with every word. Belle desperately wished she could embrace him, hold onto him and forget about everything else, but she was still hurt. How could he love her, and still try to run away? Why couldn’t he have just waited one more day for her to free him?
Jack had the gall to say she left him in the dark, that Fagin was the one to save him from hanging and she had no right to badmouth the man, storming off back towards the door.
How dare he! How dare he say that, say that she hadn’t been doing everything to get him free, to save him! He damn well knew her plan to free him and get him pardoned, that it had been all there in her letters and all he’d needed to do was bloody wait!
When Jack looked at her with complete confusion, an awful realisation dawned on her. Fagin hadn’t read the letters to Jack like she’d thought. Jack had no idea she’d written to him, every single day. Fagin had kept her letters from him, told Jack she’d left him.
Jack slumped down onto one of the pews, looking a little more heartbroken than before.
“I would never leave you,” she promised him, kneeling next to the pew, desperate to catch his gaze and make him look at her so he could see it was the truth. How could he ever think she’d abandon him? She loved him so much. She’d never imagined she would ever fall in love with anyone, and then he’d come along and turned her whole world on its axis. How could she ever give him up? “I thought you didn’t trust me to save you,” she admitted softly, eyes becoming downcast. “I thought you left me.”
“What?” he said, utterly shocked, like Belle had told him something entirely blasphemous. “I couldn’t. Ever.”
Belle smiled, feeling true happiness for the first time since waking up from her surgery. Jack had returned right to where he belonged, next to her, eyes soft as he looked at her and swore to stay with her. How could anyone be surprised when she kissed him?
His lips were soft and warm and his hand was gentle as he cupped her cheek, and Belle very much wished she could stay in this moment forever.
Jack drew back, forehead resting against hers, like he couldn’t bear to pull away any further from her. “Can’t we stay together in secret?” he begged quietly.
Belle gave him a mournful smile. “I won’t be your mistress,” she replied. How she wished she could be with him, but it was just too dangerous. And being his mistress would only confirm the poor opinion her mother already had for Jack, thinking that he only wished to use her and didn’t truly love her.
“No,” he immediately said. “No, you’d never be that,” he swore to her. Belle couldn’t help but be a little bit confused. What else could he mean then? What else could it mean for them to be together in secret?
“Then what would I be?” she asked, a tiny smile on her face. She wondered if he was trying to joke with her.
“My beloved,” Jack replied with a look of reverence, as though the answer was obvious, like she couldn’t ever possibly be considered anything else to him. She was his beloved, and wasn’t that a joyous little word to hear him use?
Still, Belle couldn’t help but smile wryly at him. “I’d argue that still sounds like I would be your mistress,” she pointed out softly. “Beloved though I would be.”
“I’d argue that you’re overly fixated on being my mistress,” he shot back with a fondly amused look. Belle felt the urge to roll her eyes at him. “I never asked for anything of the sort.”
Oh, was that right? “Well then, what are you asking for?” she asked, feeling a tiny bit impatient, and still very anxious that they could be caught in here at any second.
“For you to be my wife,” Jack replied with an entreating expression. Belle very nearly gaped at his bold words.
“Your…” she echoed, staring up at him in shock, eyes searching for any hint that he wasn’t actually serious.
“My wife,” he repeated. Plain and simple and loving. He wanted her to be his wife. Now. Not in two years, now.
“Have you gone quite mad?” she asked, rising to her feet and stalking back towards the top of the church. “Did you hit your head one too many times in that jailer’s carriage this morning?” Surely he wasn’t serious?
“The only thing that’s making me mad is that you’re dodging the question,” he retorted, catching up with her easily and securing his hand around her arm so she couldn’t continue to run away from him. Belle spun around to stare straight into his eyes, searching for any sign that he wasn’t being serious right now, any sign that this was some terrible attempt at a sick joke.
Jack leaned forward, just a tiny bit closer, but it was enough for Belle’s breath to hitch.
“Would you like me to get down on one knee to prove I’m serious, my lady?” he asked, eyes flashing with something playful.
“If you drop to the ground I’ll only follow you down,” she murmured back. They were equals, and Belle had never cared for the tradition of proposals on one knee. It sort of felt like she was being placed on a pedestal every time some foolish suitor her mother had arranged for her had tried to propose and kneeled before her. “How could we get married?” she asked curiously. “We’re not even supposed to be in contact with each other anymore, and you want to get married?”
“Yes,” he said simply, one hand coming up to hold her face, his thumb brushing her cheekbone. “Belle, I meant it when I said I can’t live my life without you. I can’t wait two years to love you, not when I love you so much now. Let me love you now,” he pleaded. Belle felt like melting a bit at his words, but she wouldn’t just crumble the minute he said something heartfelt, no matter how much she wished she could. They still had to adhere to the rules and logic of their world. Recklessness would only serve to punish them in the future, and Belle couldn’t handle a future of hers in which he wasn’t a part of it.
“You want to marry in secret?” she said incredulously. Jack nodded quickly, gaze dropping to her mouth—which made her heartbeat quicken—before returning to her eyes.
“Yes,” he whispered. “I cannot be apart from you again. Six months almost killed me, Belle,” he confessed. “And if the only way we can get through this is spending two years away from each other, then I want us to marry now, so I can know I am yours even when I am kept from you.”
Oh, well didn’t that feel like a punch straight to the stomach. To hear that Jack loved her so desperately that he couldn’t go on without being bound to her in some way or another. That even if they couldn’t physically be together until after his sentence was over and she was a doctor, he could keep a part of her in his soul if she became his wife.
“How will we get Father Cruikshanks to marry us?” Belle questioned, not missing the way his eyes lit up at the implication.
“Is that a yes?” he asked, smiling brightly, arms slipping around her waist to pull her to him. Belle couldn’t help the soft laugh she let free at his boyish expression.
“Yes, Jack,” she agreed, and unable to pass up a chance to tease him, she added, “You can be my husband.”
Jack raised an eyebrow at her, giving her a pointed look. “And?” he said expectantly. Belle reached up, hands sliding into his hair and pulling him down to meet her.
“And I’ll be your wife,” she whispered, sealing the promise with a kiss.
Jack didn’t like to think he was a violent man—not unless the moment called for it, like protecting someone in danger or needing to get himself out of a sticky situation.
Right now though, he was fit to kill Fagin.
Storming into the Cat and Bagpipes, he made straight for Fagin sitting near the back, a pie on the table in front of him and a drink in his hand. The knife sat in Jack’s hand easily, not some delicate scalpel that he’d usually wield with precision and expertise. No, this was a large, threatening, proper kind of knife, one he held concerningly close to Fagin’s neck as he yanked him back in his seat.
“Oi!” Rotty yelled from across the room. “Don’t be coming back from the dead to cause trouble, Dodger!”
With an almost annoying level of calm for someone with a sharp weapon dangerously close to his carotid artery, Fagin reassured Rotty, “Don’t mind him, Rotty. There’s no trouble here.”
“Oh yes there bloody well is,” Jack hissed at him, pressing the knife just the tiniest bit deeper. Belle certainly wouldn’t approve of his behaviour right now, but well, she wasn’t here, and what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her. Besides, it wasn’t like she was all too pleased with Fagin right now either. “You lied to me, you snivelling excuse for a father, as you so like to delude yourself that you are to me,” he spat.
“Now, Dodge,” Fagin tried to placate him. “I’d never do anything to harm you—”
“Then why’d you hide her letters from me?” he shot back. Fagin went abruptly silent, caught in yet another lie.
“Oh right,” he muttered. “I suppose you heard about that then.”
“You told me she left me, told me she didn’t care, and now you’ve gone and put my life in shambles when she was going to get me pardoned,” Jack said angrily. “I can’t see her for two years now because of you!”
“Are you going to stay hunched up behind me with a knife to my throat for the whole bloody conversation, or are you going to sit and discuss this with some civility?” Fagin harrumphed. Jack felt more pissed off the longer he was in Fagin’s presence, and all he needed was for Fagin to do him a favour, so he forced himself to stand back and put the knife away, for now.
“Good lad,” Fagin muttered. “Knew my own son wouldn’t try and bloody murder me in a pub before I’ve even had my pie.”
“I’m not your son,” Jack interjected quickly. Once upon a time he might’ve said otherwise, when he was still just a kid living on the streets of London who’s only talent was pickpocketing and bringing back his spoils to Fagin, eagerly soaking up every scrap of affection Fagin bestowed on him, but not anymore. “And if you really consider me your son, you’ll stop mucking up my life and help me now,” he added, managing to finally catch Fagin’s attention away from his pie.
“Is that right?” Fagin replied. “And just what is it that you want from me, you ungrateful brat? I saved you from swinging today, or would you rather have done the Paddington frisk?”
“You’re the one who had my execution moved up a day early!” Jack shot back. “Don’t try and pretend that your little stunt today wasn’t for your own schemes, not when you stole that useless bag off the Duke!”
“Alright fine,” Fagin admitted, hands up in surrender. “I admit there was that going on too, but I thought we was going to piss off to London together after I broke you out. You’re the one who went and got yourself caught by the new Head Peeler.”
“Look,” Jack said, growing exasperated. “I need a favour to get something done, and as luck would have it, you can help me sort it out nice and easy. So you do this for me, and I’ll forgive you for condemning me to two years as a convict servant.”
Fagin sighed like Jack had just asked him for ten thousand pounds. “Right, out with it then,” he agreed with a wave of his hand. Jack took the seat next to him, voice dropping as he told Fagin his plan.
“Am I right in thinking you and Father Cruikshanks are fairly chummy?”
“A witness?” Fanny echoed. “A witness for what?”
Unable to help her paranoia, Belle walked to her bedroom door and locked it to make certain that they wouldn’t be walked in on for their conversation.
“A wedding has to have a witness to be legitimate,” she answered simply.
“And who’s getting married— oh,” Fanny realised, eyes blowing wide. “Oh Belle, are you sure this is a good idea?”
No, she wasn’t, but Belle didn’t particularly care anyway. Damn Jack Dawkins, he’d always been particularly talented at convincing her to do so many risky things that she never would have before, and now was no different.
“Yes,” she said firmly. “I’m sure, and so is he, and we want to do this tonight. Will you be our witness?” she asked, hoping her sister would agree. After all, Belle tried to reassure herself, Fanny couldn’t resist romance, especially not something so romantic as forbidden love. Surely she would help Belle.
“Of course,” Fanny agreed with an excited grin. “Oh this is all so dramatic and exciting! What can I do to help?”
Guiding Fanny to sit with her on the bed, Belle began to explain the plan she and Jack had concocted.
“Right then, tonight at eight I must go to help with a surgery…”
The transfusion went remarkably smoothly, for one that was being performed secretly in the middle of the night at least. Although, Jack had given more blood than was originally planned at the last minute, while she had been searching for the tibial vein and finishing her ligation. The second she was done, he removed the needle from his arm, bracing himself against the table for a moment to regain his balance as he dealt with the blood loss.
Again, as she’d said before, he was incredibly reckless. But somehow when she saw how deeply he cared for his patients—in this case risking passing out and collapsing in the hopes the man would have enough blood to make it through the surgery—Belle could only be reminded of how much she loved him. She’d never met anyone as kindhearted as Jack.
“Well done, Doctor,” he murmured across the table to her, pride shining in his eyes. Belle couldn’t help the blush that appeared on her cheeks.
“I’m not a doctor yet,” she replied softly, moving around to his side of the table. “Come on then,” she said, guiding him to sit down. Jack did as such, though he slipped his hand onto her waist and hauled her down to sit next to him on the small bench, resting his head on her shoulder for a moment.
“I’d prefer if you didn’t faint during our wedding,” she whispered with a teasing lilt to her voice. Jack smiled tiredly, leaning forward to place an apologetic kiss to her neck before closing his eyes.
“So sorry, my love,” he replied quietly. “I’ll be alright in a minute, just stay here with me please.”
They remained in comfortable silence for a few minutes, and Belle would be worried Jack had passed out if it wasn’t for the fact that she could feel his hands gently fiddling with her fingers. She’d seen him doing tricks with coins before, and right now it would seem her hands were the object of his interest.
Eventually though, she couldn’t help but voice the thoughts swirling in her head. “Jack,” she began softly, earning a small hum from him to let her know he was listening. “If we do this, you must promise me something,” she requested, voice bordering on pleading. She was so afraid for him. At any moment, should they make the slightest wrong move, he would pay the price for both of them. Of course, she would never get to become a doctor either, but the heartbreak of losing her dream wouldn’t compare to the literal heartbreak she would experience if Jack died for the simple crime of loving her.
“Anything,” he agreed easily. “What would you like, love?”
Belle couldn’t stop the smile that broke out on her face at the term of endearment; his love for her was so easy for him to express, he never shied away from making sure she knew how he felt.
“You must promise to be careful, Jack,” she said. “I can’t lose you again,” she explained, turning to face him so he could see how important this was. Jack's hands came up to cup her cheeks, and she could see how much he hated the sight of the fear that swam in her eyes. “I felt the pain of seeing you die today, and I thought I would die right there with you,” she confessed. “I cannot be the reason for your death this time. And you mustn’t be reckless, not if you are my husband. You must come back to me in two years. That means no schemes, no thievery, no putting your life in danger.”
Jack looked anguished at her words. “I can’t visit you?” he surmised brokenly. Belle shook her head.
“It’s best if you didn’t,” she said sadly. “For your own safety.”
“No,” he said immediately. “I can’t. I can’t, Belle. Forget being executed, I will die if I can’t see you for two whole years.”
Belle felt the same, and the reality of their situation came crashing down on her all in one go.
“Then what are we to do?” she cried, feeling tears streak down her face and unable to control the shame she felt for sobbing in front of him. She always kept up such a strong exterior, even in the face of so much hardship, but she couldn’t maintain it any longer.
“Don’t cry,” Jack soothed, wrapping her up in his arms. “Please Belle, don’t cry. Don’t cry, everything will be okay.”
“How?” she asked between shaky breaths.
“I don’t know,” Jack muttered against her hair, leaving a soft kiss to the blonde locks. “But I have to have faith that things will work out for us, Belle. I thought I lost you once, and then we beat the odds, and you survived. And no matter how many nightmares I have where I dream the worst and think you are gone from this world, when I wake up I remember you are alive, and safe, and know how much I love you. So I believe that we’ll be okay, and that we can get through this. But I cannot bear being apart from you again, so can we please find a way to stay together this time?”
Belle sniffled quietly, considering his words. “Isn’t that the point of us getting married?” she pointed out. “So that we can keep a piece of each other even when we are separated?”
“Yes,” he agreed, one hand moving up and down her spine soothingly. “Yes, that’s what I thought this morning. But then I spent the rest of the day without you, my love. And you’d think after six months I’d be able to handle a few measly hours without you by my side, but I’ll be honest Belle,” he murmured, dipping his head down to catch her eyes. “Those few hours were worse than all six of those god-awful months combined, because I had just gotten you back before you were ripped away from me again, and I realised you are the air I breathe, the reason I want to wake up in the morning, and I can’t continue living this half-life without you.”
“So we shouldn’t get married?” Belle questioned, head tilting to one side. Jack smiled softly.
“I would still very much like to marry you tonight,” he promised, nose brushing hers as he drew closer. “But I’ll be honest and say I don’t think it’ll fix our problems like I once thought it would. I can’t offer you a ring, though one day that will change and I’ll give you the ring you deserve—”
“I couldn’t care less about rings,” Belle interrupted gently, sighing happily when Jack shut her up with a kiss.
“Don’t interrupt,” he chided softly, kissing her again before continuing on. “I am ashamed Belle, that I cannot swear to avoid danger and stay out of trouble like you want me to,” he admitted. “Danger unfortunately has a habit of following me whether I like it or not, and I don’t know how to live a life without it,” he said, looking away with guilt.
“Would you give it up for me?” Belle asked, using her hand to turn his face back to look at her.
“Yes,” he breathed, like it was an oath he was pledging to his deity. “I want to leave that life behind, Belle. I thought I had left it behind, and then it all came back and now I’m so entangled in it again and I don’t know how to make it stop.”
“I’ll tell you how you make it stop,” she said assertively. “You marry me tonight, and you keep out of Fagin’s schemes, no matter what he tempts you with to get you involved. I don’t care if he promises money, or freedom, or the bloody Crown Jewels themselves,” she said, trying not to laugh at his surprised expression upon hearing her swear. “You’ll say no to it Jack, because if you trust me then I will find a way, a legal way, for us to be together sooner than two years from now, and then we’ll be the best doctors Port Victory has ever seen.”
“Is that all?” he said, only sounding mildly sarcastic.
“Yes,” Belle said stubbornly. “And if you behave yourself, then I might just sneak down to see you every once in a while until we can be together freely.”
Jack’s face softened, and he smiled again at her—she really loved when he smiled at her like that—pulling her in for another kiss before drawing back to whisper, “As you wish, my lady.”
The church was so quiet that any noise they made as they walked inside bounced off the walls and gave it an almost eerie feel.
Jack had never imagined there would come a day when he’d get married. Not because he never wanted to, but rather because he’d simply never believed anyone would ever want to bind themselves to a thieving orphan from the East End, and he’d certainly never imagined his future wife to be a beautiful noble lady who could no doubt do much better than him.
For reasons only God must know though, she loved him anyway, and Jack was much too in love with her to question why on earth she wanted him of all people, not when he could only be so happy to want her and have the sentiment returned right back.
Father Cruikshanks stood waiting at the top of the altar, with Fanny sitting in the closest pew next to—to Jack’s utter shock—Fagin.
When they heard Jack and Belle arrive, both Fagin and Fanny stood to meet them.
“I’ve convinced Mother you’re unwell, as you said,” Fanny assured Belle quickly. “She thinks I’ve gone to attend to you now that dinner is over, so hopefully we won’t be discovered missing.”
“Thank you, Fanny,” Belle said gratefully, hugging her sister in an uncharacteristic display of sisterly affection. Jack knew very well that Belle loved her sister, but this was the first time he’d seen Belle initiate physical affection between the two girls. Fanny looked delighted to receive the hug, wrapping her arms around Belle tightly before they separated.
“Oh well, you know,” Fanny said with a wave of her hand. “I do love romance, and you two are just so sweet together.”
“Thank you very much for helping, Lady Fanny,” Jack said sincerely. He wasn’t quite sure what to do here. How were men supposed to offer their thanks to noble women? Taking a guess, Jack held his hand out for her to shake, and by both ladies’ amused expressions, he was willing to bet he’d guessed wrong, but Fanny shook his hand firmly anyway.
“You are most welcome, Doctor Dawkins,” she replied.
“Please, call me Jack,” he insisted politely.
“Oh yes!” Fanny said excitedly. “We are to be family now, aren’t we? Well in that case, I insist you just call me Fanny, now that I am your sister.”
“She won’t be your sister if you don’t get a bloody move on,” Fagin interrupted, eyes scanning back and forth around the church. Jack just barely restrained himself from rolling his eyes at the man.
“And what’s got you so twitchy?” he asked Fagin. “You better not have stolen something,” he warned. If Fagin drew any unwanted attention into the church right now, he was dead, and Belle’s dreams of being a surgeon were doomed.
“I’ve done nothing of the sort!” Fagin protested, with a look of such deep horror at his honour being insulted that personally, Jack thought had no business being on the face of a man who’d literally robbed from the pockets of at least half of London. “I’m only hoping to avoid Darius, seeing as he’s not ah…particularly fond of me,” Fagin said delicately.
“Oh, not to worry Mister Fagin,” Fanny said cheerfully. “The Reverend here told me earlier that Mister Cracksworth has gone home for the evening. It’s just us for now.”
Jack watched as Fagin’s shoulders dropped marginally. “Right,” he said as he relaxed. “Suppose there’s not much to be worrying about then.”
“And may I ask what you’re even doing here anyway, Fagin?” Jack asked. Fagin looked at Jack, aghast.
“What do you mean what am I doing here?” he scoffed in outrage. “I bloody organised this whole affair for you and your fancyskirt fiancée, and come to realise I’m not invited to the ceremony?”
“We uh, we didn’t realise you’d like to be present,” Belle explained hesitantly.
“Course I want to be here,” Fagin replied with his eyebrows raised. “Dodger here is tying the knot, and what kind of dad would I be if I wasn’t present for such a celebration as this? Besides, did you lot forget you need two witnesses for the marriage to be valid?”
In all honesty, Jack had forgotten about that. It wasn’t like he spent all that much time at weddings, alright? And he’d been a bit caught up on the idea of marrying Belle to focus too hard on the details of the marriage itself. Looking at Belle, it would seem she had forgotten this specific wedding requirement for the same reasons as him.
“Thanks,” Jack muttered, slightly surprised that Fagin wasn’t trying to throw a spanner into the works at the last minute and was actually trying to help things proceed smoothly.
“I didn’t know Mister Fagin was your father, Jack,” Fanny said with interest.
“He’s not,” Jack answered quickly before addressing Fagin again. “Look, you can stay if you want, but I reckon we should get on with this before someone discovers us here.”
“Righto,” Fagin agreed, sweeping his arm dramatically to gesture to the top of the church where Father Cruikshanks was waiting. “Time to get hitched then, Dodger.” He pointed a warning finger in Belle’s direction with a serious expression. “You be good to my boy now, missy. I won’t be taking it all too kindly if you hurt him in any sort of way.”
“I could say the same to you,” Belle shot back with ease, and Jack couldn’t help but smile at her quick wit. Fagin looked like he was about to throw out another retort, and Jack really couldn’t wait around any longer, not when he was literally minutes away from marrying the love of his life.
“Yes yes, while I appreciate all the chivalry on behalf of my honour, could we please stop with the distractions and let me and Belle get married now?”
Fagin huffed, but didn’t complain. With a private grin just for Belle, she and Jack made their way up the aisle with Fanny and Fagin trailing behind and taking their seats in the pew closest to the altar.
“Good evening,” Father Cruikshanks greeted them quietly, to which the couple both replied back. “Yes, well now,” the priest carried on. “Normally this would all be very unorthodox, but since a man so honourable as Mister Fagin is in support of this union, I have agreed to oversee the marriage between you two, as a personal favour to him.”
To hear Fagin be described as honourable was honestly so jarring that Jack had half a mind to correct the Reverend, though in the end he managed to restrain himself, seeing as the farce of a persona was what was helping him and Belle in the first place.
“Very kind of him,” Belle agreed sweetly, eyes flicking to Jack with secret amusement that only made him love her more.
“Indeed,” Jack agreed. “Shall we proceed with the ceremony?” He knew he probably sounded ridiculous with how many times he’d tried to move things along, but he really couldn’t wait until he was married to Belle, and he didn’t care how eager it made him sound.
“Wait!” Fanny said suddenly, jumping up from her seat and hurrying over to Belle. “The fact you’re getting married in black is bad enough, it would be terrible if I forgot to give you this,” she explained, holding out a long blue ribbon. “You’re meant to wear blue on your wedding day,” she smiled.
Jack had never heard of the tradition—again, he didn’t spend too much of his time in chapels—but he was touched that Fanny cared so deeply for her sister’s marriage. Rushed and secretive though it was, Fanny was still trying to incorporate some normalcy to it.
“Oh thank you, Fanny,” Belle said with a smile, though she looked more apologetic than grateful. “But my hair is already tied up, how will I wear the ribbon?”
“Nonsense,” Fanny dismissed easily. “Turn around,” she instructed, leaving no room for argument. Belle couldn’t do anything but obey, turning back to face Jack with a helpless shrug as her sister pulled her hair free from its up-do and quickly began manipulating the tresses the way she wanted. Jack watched as Fanny wove the ribbon into Belle’s hair, securing it in a fashion that left half of it falling loosely around her shoulders, with the ribbon keeping the top half tied up.
Jack had only ever seen Belle’s hair down on very rare occasions, and he was struck by how beautiful she was all over again.
“There,” Fanny said happily, dusting her hands off in a job well done. “Now you’re perfect,” she decided, quickly retaking her seat so the ceremony could carry on. Belle gave him a questioning look, and Jack realised she wanted to know how he thought she looked.
“Beautiful,” he promised her quietly. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.
“Right,” the Reverend said, clearing his throat to regain everyone’s attention. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today…”
“If you’re legally my wife,” Jack pondered aloud, fingers trailing gently up and down her spine as they lay in bed and he stared up at the ceiling. “But the marriage was done in secret, does that mean your last name has changed or not?”
Belle hummed for a moment, snuggling closer to him and tucking her face into his neck. He was so warm, and she wanted to soak up every precious moment she had with him for their wedding night before she was forced to leave.
“For appearance’s sake, I’m still Belle Fox. I think my name changing would be rather hard to explain, don’t you think?” she pointed out lightly, which earned her a soft laugh from Jack. “However, in the eyes of God I’m fairly certain I’m now Belle Dawkins.”
“Do you like my name?” he asked. Belle smiled, and answered truthfully.
“Yes,” she said. “Though perhaps when I am a doctor I’ll go by Fox, just for the sake of simplicity and not having two doctors called Dawkins working in the same hospital.”
“Very sensible,” he agreed, half yawning at the same time. Belle quite liked seeing him like this. She’d only had the privilege of such a sight once before, the morning after she’d revealed her aortic aneurysm to him and he’d remained by her side all night to monitor her pulse. She’d woken up to see him asleep by her side, soft and vulnerable while he rested, and now as his wife she got to see him like that again, whenever she wanted.
Well, not whenever she wanted, unfortunately. Come to think of it, it was getting quite late.
“Jack,” she whispered, already regretting having to cut this moment of bliss short.
“Yes, wife?” he asked, having immediately grown fond of referring to her by her new title the second the marriage was made final. She smiled at the word for what felt like the millionth time—he’d certainly already used it at least a million times—before turning serious again.
“I have to go, Jack,” she explained mournfully. No one had told her how hard it would be to separate herself from him now that he was her husband, but maybe it was Belle’s fault for not seeing that one coming.
“I wish you didn’t,” Jack told her quietly, not even trying to protest, though he made no move to release her from his embrace. He knew it was pointless to try and stop her, not when Belle was going back to the Governor’s house whether he liked it or not, because if she didn’t, he would die. “I really wish you didn’t, Belle.”
“I wish I didn’t either,” she agreed, sitting up and beginning the search for her corset wherever he’d thrown it on the floor earlier, blushing at the memory of how his skilled hands had deftly removed the garment from her. “But Fanny can only stall Mother for so long, and we can’t be caught.”
Jack sat up with her, moving so he was behind her when she sat back on the bed with her corset pulled over her waist. “I’ll miss you,” he murmured, hands finding her laces and pulling them to tighten her corset for her.
“I’ll miss you too,” she promised in return, sighing when he began nosing along her neck, hands tightening around her hips. “Don’t try to tempt me,” she warned halfheartedly. “I really can’t stay.”
“I know,” Jack replied, dropping another kiss under her jaw. “This is me saying goodbye.”
Belle knew he was upset, but to be together for a few fleeting hours of peace was better than nothing at all. If only she could remind herself of this, though right now all she could feel was sadness about leaving and already longing to return to him when she hadn’t even left his side yet.
“Will you let me see you home?” he asked. Belle was about to protest, but he beat her to it and explained, “I don’t want you walking through the streets at night alone, my love.”
“Not all the way back,” was all she could agree to. “Just until we’ve reached outside of town, and then I’ll go the rest of the way myself.”
Jack clearly didn’t like her terms, but her house was swarming with guards, and there was no way he could get her to budge on this.
“I forgot what an incredibly stubborn woman you are when I married you,” he muttered with a wry smile. Belle turned to face him, looping her arms around his neck.
“Well now this incredibly stubborn woman is your wife,” she told him with mock-seriousness, giggling quietly when he kissed below her ear and his soft hair tickled her cheek. “And I would like for my husband to keep himself safe so I can come visit him again soon. Can you do that?”
“Yes, my love,” Jack replied, swearing his oath with a soft kiss to her lips before brushing his thumb over her cheekbone with adoring eyes. “Anything for you.”