From the lake to the meadow and on to the wood,
Our wood, that is dearer than all;
—Alfred, Lord Tennyson: Maud (1855)
Rosabel jumped up and down, her ringlets bobbing. ‘Is it time?’
Dominic laughed. ‘It certainly is, Rosabel.’
Maud reached down and hugged the little girl. She’d been unable to stay in her chair for the whole of the wedding banquet. She had spent most of it perched on Dominic’s lap instead, beside Maud.
She wouldn’t have had it otherwise. Without Rosabel, she would never have come to Pendragon Hall.
She would never have found a sanctuary.
She would never have found Dominic.
Her husband.
At his nod, the footman stepped forward and clapped for silence.
Dominic stood. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, if you would all like to follow us out to the lawn, we have a surprise for you.’
They had held the wedding banquet in the dining room. It rang with the sound of happy laughter. Guests had filled the long table, her sister, Martha, her husband and their new baby as well as Rosabel adding a sense of merriment and fun to the proceedings.
‘We may have a chance to fill this table after all,’ he murmured, as they made their way out of the dining room.
‘Not twenty children!’ She laughed.
He raised an eyebrow. ‘It’s not as if we would need to employ a governess. We have one already in the Hall.’
She laughed. ‘I suppose we can only try.’
She flushed as he met her eyes.
She turned to take Rosabel’s hand. The little girl looked as if she were about to burst with excitement. Her cheeks were pink and she was the picture of health as the three of them led the way out of doors.
On the lawn, everyone waited. It wasn’t a big crowd; neither of them had wanted a large wedding. Some of the nearby families had been invited, but not Averill Trevose. Dominic had baulked at that, even though Averill had come to call on Maud and apologised for bringing Lord Melville to the woods.
‘I’m not sure we can ever be friends,’ Maud had said to Dominic, ‘but we can be good neighbours.’
‘You are too kind-hearted,’ he’d said, lifting her hand to his lips.
Now the footmen came out of the Hall, each carrying one of the vivaria that had been set along the wedding table, fluttering with bright life. Dominic had ordered more of the glass cases from London, and Maud and Rosabel had been preparing them for months.
‘These butterfly vivaria aren’t big enough either,’ he murmured to her, as the butler and the footmen made their way to stand in front of the small crowd. ‘I believe we must build a large one in the garden so that we can visit butterflies at any time of the day or night.’
‘Do you ever stop building?’ He had found new investors for the train line, too, and was planning to expand.
He shrugged.
‘I would like that very much,’ she said, ‘but I would be sorry not to go to the woods.’
He looked at her with a curious expression. ‘Is that so?’
He gave a nod to the butler. At his command, the footmen opened the vivarium glass doors.
It took a moment, as if the butterflies were unsure what to do. Then, one by one, they emerged, some large, some small, some patterned, some plain. Coppers. Whites. Browns. Blues. And Swallowtails. Bright wings, in all the colours of the rainbow.
For a few minutes they fluttered, like flowers in the sky. Up and out they flew, into the pale blue, before disappearing almost like a swarm, into the woods.
Martha dabbed at her eyes with a lace handkerchief. ‘Oh, Maud. That was the most magical thing I have ever seen. Don’t you think so?’
Maud blinked back her own tears. ‘I think it might have been.’
Dominic smiled at her. Again, he had that curious look in his eyes.
She had been worried that after he’d ordered Lord Melville from his land, Dominic’s plans for the development of the railway would be affected. Lord Melville had threatened to ruin Dominic and the railway, Dominic had told her. But either his threats hadn’t been carried out or Melville did not possess the influence he had claimed. New investors had come forward. The railway would surge ahead.
‘What is it?’ she asked him, as they strolled back into the Hall after the butterflies had vanished into the sky. ‘I do believe you’re hiding something. I thought we promised to have no more secrets between us.’
He smiled. ‘No more secrecy founded on mistrust and fear, certainly. But I never promised there would be no more surprises.’
‘There are more?’ He had already given her so much. They were to go on a honeymoon to the Continent, shortly, travelling by train, of course.
Maud’s body tingled as Dominic leaned in and whispered in her ear, ‘You will have to wait until tonight.’
* * *
‘Something old,’ said Maud. ‘Something new. Something borrowed and something blue…’
Dominic grinned. ‘I hardly dare to hope.’
She smoothed her hands over the lacy skirt of the white wedding dress that had transformed her into a fairy-tale bride when she slipped it on that morning. Even now she could not stop smoothing her hands over the hoops. They were as light as air compared to the layers of petticoats that used to weigh her down in the past. Now her whole body felt light and free. The dress itself was made of layers of lace and silk, one over the other, and drawn in at the waist to smooth over her corset, held together at the bodice with a row of tiny buttons shaped like butterfly wings. Her slippers were made of satin, too, with ribbon rosettes on them. She had been fitted for the gown by a dressmaker in London. Dominic and she had pored over a sheaf of designs in the shop and finally settled upon a mixture of two. But a picture on paper was quite a different beast to a fully fledged gown. She had hardly been able to believe that such a magical dress was hers when she drew it from its box upon delivery. The puffed sleeves, too, were so light and airy she felt as if she could float away.
Across the room, Dominic was still dressed in his wedding attire. His dark morning suit with its long black-tailed coat and the crisp white shirt he wore underneath reminded her of the tailed dinner jacket he had worn when he had first invited her to dine in the grand dining room of Pendragon Hall. She had teased him by showing him, in the pages of a magazine, a new fashion for gentlemen in Europe. The fashion was to wear a cravat, or a bow tie, shaped like a butterfly. Some even had embroidered wings. She had pretended seriousness about such a bow tie’s suitability for his wedding attire until the sight of his horrified face had sent her into peals of laughter. She hadn’t known that such ease and amusement was possible between a man and a woman. His half-smile could barely be termed such these days—it had grown to at least a characteristic three-quarters and she had hopes for a full four.
Now, with another laugh, she lifted her petticoat to reveal her blue stockings.
‘My dear Lady Jago,’ Dominic drawled, with his new three-quarter smile. ‘For a while I was concerned that you had lost your passion for education.’
‘Amid my passion for other things, do you mean?’
He lifted an eyebrow. ‘What are your other passions?’
She raised the petticoat a little higher and stepped closer to him in a rustle of silk. ‘Storytelling.’
He placed his hand on what could be seen of the blue stocking, just inside her thigh.
‘And butterflies.’ She lifted her skirt a little higher.
Again, he followed her lead, gliding his fingers further. A shiver like liquid honey rippled down her spine.
‘Anything else?’ he asked, as his fingers moved higher still.
Maud quivered. ‘I am still discovering.’
‘As I am you.’ He ran a finger around her lips. ‘You were most elusive.’
His lips went to her neck. ‘I wanted to kiss you here.’
They moved upwards. ‘And here.’
‘And here.’
His hard mouth had found hers again now.
Then he pulled away, gliding his hands over her bodice.
‘Allow me to enlighten you. If I may.’ His hands released her. ‘But not yet. You must wait a little longer.’
No! She craved his hands upon her thigh, her bodice, his mouth hard upon hers. A tiny part of her was still frightened, yes, but his hands negated all fear. She trusted him completely.
Her husband smiled down at her almost mischievously, reminding her of Rosabel as the dent played in his cheek. She saw it more often now. Then he took her hand in his.
‘Come,’ Dominic said.