AN. Hey! I wrote this as a flash-fiction assignment for my degree in creative writing, which is why its so short! :)

Sara winced slightly as Becky finished fastening her corset. She looked down at her now completely assembled wedding gown, sighing forlornly.
"This marriage really is a pain you know, Becky, but Mr Carrisford did insist upon seeing me suitably wed before he passes, and I would so hate to disappoint him, after all he's done for us..."
Her companion murmured a stiff 'Yes Miss' of agreement, her back turned away from Sara, supposedly busy with a pair of brilliant white lace gloves.
"Oh Becky, I beg of you not to take this day to heart! It is merely a marriage of convenience you know."
Becky sniffed, and dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief, before picking up the gloves, and turning back towards her friend. Sara held out her hands daintily, and Becky obliged; carefully slipping the delicate lace onto first the right hand, then the left, running her own fingers smoothly down her companions, their eyes locked. Their fingers intertwined naturally, almost without thought, until Sara pulled Becky into her arms, and kissed her softly upon the lips.
"My husband shall have his many companions to warm his bed, and we shall have each other, Becky- together, always, just like we dreamed all those years ago in that dreary attic. You'll be my mistress; doesn't that sound delightfully wicked and exciting?"
They didn't break their embrace until it was time for Sara to make her way to the church, her best friend holding the train of her deceiving virgin-white gown. Mr Carrisford's eyes filled with tears at the sight of his surrogate child promising herself -before the eyes of the Lord- to the fine young gentleman she had chosen herself. He did not notice the warm glances shared between Sara and her chief bridesmaid; the identical smiles of a shared secret playing upon their lips.