| |
Get thee a wife!
(Much Ado About Nothing V.iv.126)
––––––––
THEY MARRIED THE FOLLOWING morning at the Cathedral Church of Saint Paul, under a license procured by Mr. Sherrington from the local bishop. The rain of the previous day had left the world damp and dewy, but Edward was unaware of the spongy ground beneath his feet and of the moistness in the air. He hardly noticed the white wooden clapboard siding on the outside of the church, or the richly polished wooden furnishings inside the building. Whether Madelyn wore her finest gown, or walked into the church on her brother’s arm wearing rags, Edward did not notice. His normal awareness of fabric disappeared into nothingness as he looked at the face of the woman he loved. Silks and pearls could not match the luster of her beautiful skin; diamonds would fade to sand next to her sparkling eyes. He cared not for her jonquil gown, nor her shoes, nor the lace and ribbons she wore, though they were the lifeblood of his business. He cared only for the person inside them, Lynnie, his very own Lynnie.
He himself wore his best morning suit that he had brought with him for reasons unknown. He knew this only because Harry and Sherrington had gone through his trunks to search out something appropriate and commented accordingly. His only concern for his clothing was that it might please his bride. Her happiness had become the centre of his world, and he lived only to increase that happiness with his every deed.
As she walked towards him, looking so like her brother, but so different, Edward was struck again by her delicate beauty. Her fair hair was brushed back and decorated with pins and combs, turning the short boy’s cut into something elfin and magical. Her eyes that matched Harry’s in shape and expression were fringed in thick lashes that bespoke tempting femininity. Where Harry’s face was square and strong, Madelyn’s chin was narrow, lending a sweet heart shape to her face, which focused his attention on those soft pink lips. He could scarcely hear Sherrington’s reassurances in his ears for the beating of his heart.
His. With every step she took towards him, she was closer to being his. Harrison was leading her slowly down that long aisle, each step seeming to take an age. After an eternity, she reached her destination in front of the bishop and Harry handed her to his new friend. She took his hand, and time stopped. The bishop spoke, he was certain, and both he and his Lynnie made the appropriate responses, but his awareness was entirely consumed by this radiant, magical being beside him and he knew not what he said or what was spoken to him. And when the brief rite was completed and the register signed, all he could think was Mine! At last she is mine!
There were very few in attendance, only the party from London, the Coles, Alastair McFarland and his mother, and a small handful of old friends from Edward’s university days who were presently in town and who could find the time to attend. There was one unexpected guest, however. Sir John Wentworth himself graced the proceedings with his presence, and to the great surprise of all except Sherrington, invited the assembled company to a breakfast at his own residence, where his cook had been preparing some light refreshments.
This announcement finally brought Edward back from his reveries, and he immediately sought out the governor of the province to offer his very great thanks for this unexpected boon.
Sir John proved to be an affable fellow and heartily congratulated the newlywed couple. “When Sherrington here told me of your business, I could hardly sit by and let you just go back to the inn, now could I young man? My wife would never let me hear the end of it,” he pronounced in his great voice. “I had not known your friend Sherrington before this visit, but I had certainly heard talk of him, and if he deems you a worthy man to know then I too shall be proud to make your acquaintance.” He then executed a very creditable bow to Madelyn before taking her hand and kissing it in a very French manner, greeting her with “Mrs. Gardiner.”
She giggled in quite an undignified fashion at this first use of her new name. Edward almost purred in satisfaction. “Mrs. Gardiner,” he repeated. “How I like that. Mrs. Gardiner.” He grabbed her hand and kissed her wrist, and then, pulling her into a doorway, kissed more of her as well.
The wedding breakfast was a simple but elegant affair, with cakes and treats and good food for the small gathering, and when all the guests had departed, Sir John turned once more to the young couple. “Our friend Sherrington has told me something of your story, and Lady Wentworth and I wish to bestow a small gift upon you in celebration of your marriage. We have a small summer house on a lovely bay some twenty miles from town. I have sent word for it to be fully provisioned for you, and for the housekeeper to be available to meet your needs. My personal carriage will transport you there and back five days hence, should you wish to partake of the house for your personal use.”
“Sir John,” Madelyn curtseyed, “we cannot thank you enough for this very kind and generous gesture. We gladly accept.”
Edward was not surprised that their first decision as a married couple should be undertaken by his wife alone, with no consultation of his own feelings, but as he was of a like mind, he did not argue with her. “Indeed, Sir John, this is a most appreciated gift.” And it was. The notion of spending his wedding night in the small inn, a thin wall away from his brother-in-law and his father’s good friend had been uncomfortable, to say the least. He would relish the privacy that Sir John’s thoughtfulness had occasioned for himself and his bride.
Their trunks were quickly packed and soon they were off, alone at last in the comfortable privacy of the governor’s carriage. They had scarcely left the immediate boundaries of the town before they turned their attention to each other. Madelyn moved to sit next to her husband, as close as she could without sitting on him. She looked up at him through her thick lashes and, placing a hand on his cheek to pull his face towards her own, pressed her lips to his own.
“You are not shy, my Lynnie,” Edward teased between kisses. “Shall I always expect such a warm response to being alone with you?” She replied with a giggle, and then by assaulting his mouth afresh, and Edward found he had no choice but to meet her attack and respond in kind. Madelyn’s hands had moved beneath Edward’s fine jacket, and were kneading his back through the thickness of his waistcoat and shirt, and Edward thought he might burn up from the sensation. Those sweet hands were like fire through his clothing; and when a wandering hand began tugging his shirt up from his waistband and buried itself under those layers, directly on his bare skin, it was as lava from the depths of the earth.
For his own part, Edward discovered that his hands too had wandered from their chaste position at his sides. He traced up and down his wife’s back, seeking the contours of her body through her unfathomable laced undergarments, which today enhanced rather than concealed her very feminine attributes. An image sprang unbidden to his fevered mind of his bride appearing before him in her guise as Matthew, leaving him the duty of unwinding those wrappings that constricted her breasts, exposing her oh so gradually to his sight and touch, and he felt himself shudder violently in response.
“Are you well, my love?” Madelyn asked as she pulled away from his desperate embrace. “Have I hurt you?”
“Oh, Lynnie...” was all he could manage. He closed his eyes and threw his head against the high seat back behind him. “I am more than well, but I fear I may combust before we arrive. Perhaps we had better sit apart and admire the scenery, at least until I can get myself under better regulation.”
“Silly man!” was her teasing reply, which did nothing to cool his ardour. But she did separate slightly from him and withdrew her siren’s hands from beneath his shirt. Resting her head on his shoulder, she asked, “What were you thinking, sir, when you shook and shuddered so violently? I am your wife now, and need to know everything.” She grabbed a hand and raised it to her lips to kiss tenderly.
Never a man to conceal his thoughts, he told her. “I recalled when I first realized who you were—who Matthew was. In that armaments storage space, beneath the McFarlands’ barn, you were washing and were half undressed, and I saw you wrapping yourself. I was so very angry, but perhaps I was more so than I might otherwise have been, for I was also so very tempted by you. I did not know how to make sense of what I saw. Instead of a skinny boy I saw a beautiful woman, and my sensibilities were sent into such disorder.
“But just a moment ago, when that same image came to me, there was no disorder and no confusion. I knew exactly what I thought, and those thoughts have no place in a moving carriage with the driver just short feet away from us.”
Her smile grew wicked. “So I tempt you, my love?” Her hand released his and began drawing patterns on his chest
“Lynnie....” he was breathing heavily. “Please, dearest, do not torment me thus. One of us must exercise control, and if you continue as you are, I will be unequal to the chore.” Then he straightened and looked at her with slightly narrow eyes. “Are you not afraid, my dear? Are not brides said to fear their new husbands? Or... No! You are a maid yet, are you not?”
She laughed at him anew. “Oh, my sweet Edward. Yes, I am a maid, and yes, I grew up as a lady, but one learns things in the countryside, and no, I do not fear you. I know you will not hurt me because I know you love me.” She leaned over to kiss his nose. “Very well. I will behave myself and will comment innocently on the passing scenery, but when we arrive and have our privacy, I warn you, sir, to look to your virtue, for I intend to make short work of it.”
“Lynnie...” he growled again, and threw his head back, laughing. Life with this woman would not for one moment be dull.
At long last the carriage arrived in front of the summer cottage. It was a middle-sized house set in a sweet park, but the real appeal was its location, situated as it was on the shores of a beautiful bay.
“Pirates used to hide in these parts,” the driver informed them as he helped remove their trunks from the back of the vehicle. “But nowadays, with His Majesty’s navy so close, it’s only fishermen you needs watch for.”
A plump woman of middle years scurried from the house immediately upon their arrival and introduced herself as Mrs. Ingliss, the housekeeper. She showed them the house whilst the coachman and a sturdy boy carried their trunks to their chambers, and then led them to the dining room where trays of food had been set out.
“It will all sit well till morning,” she explained, “so you won’t be needing me till you rise for breakfast, when I will come to make your tea.” And then, as quickly as she had scurried from the house, she departed, leaving the Gardiners alone.
“Are you hungry, my love?” Madelyn asked, eyeing the tray of sweet cakes and cheeses.
“Yes, but only for you,” was Edward’s response, which set her giggling again.
“Oh, my love,” she purred as she reached to unbutton those annoying closures on his waistcoat. “I have plans for you, but you may wish some sustenance. Let us have a light meal, before we see where our trunks have been stored.” Her glance was wicked. She finished unbuttoning the garment, but let it hang there open whilst she prepared a plate for her husband, and then another for herself. She sat to eat, and Edward did likewise, but he did not taste the food or the wine he consumed, so entranced was he by the sphinx he had just married. Then she prepared another full plate of treats and placed it on a tray, and holding it in one hand, she grabbed Edward’s arm with the other and dragged him with her to the bedroom.
If their kisses had been fueled with passion before, their embrace now was incendiary. At last, there was no impediment to their full union. They were alone in comfortable surroundings, with no danger of interruption, and were married in the eyes of God and the law. Edward grabbed his wife as soon as she had set down her tray of food and devoured her, no longer held back by notions of propriety or concerns for her modesty and reputation. She was Mrs. Gardiner now, his very own, to love and cherish and enjoy and make happy.
He had had a taste, in those dimly-lit trysts and at the overlook, of the fire she held within herself, and was fully prepared to meet her passion, but the intensity of her caresses now shook him a little. He had expected some anxiety, some nervousness on her part, on this first evening together as husband and wife, and had schooled himself to be as slow and gentle as he could. Although a man of very little experience, he still knew enough to be concerned for her well-being. But her hands, so soft and rosy, were burrowing again beneath his clothing, pulling his waistcoat from his shoulders and moving up his back under his shirt, unrestrained by the confines and motion of the carriage, and he felt his body was on fire, her every touch, her every kiss, igniting yet another spark in this conflagration that must eventually consume him.
When his shirt was, at last, lying on the floor, she stepped away from him to admire her handiwork. He stood there before her, held in place by her gaze as a butterfly is held by a pin, shirtless in the receding light of the afternoon, embarrassed by the obvious evidence of his ardour. She did not shirk from the sight, nor was she questioning. Instead, she reached out to gently touch him, and then, when his shudder subsided, asked in a low voice, “will you help me with my laces, my love? I have many, many laces that must all be untied.”
She turned her back to him so he might better be able to begin his task, which he started upon immediately, stopping every now and then to kiss her neck or run his hands over her breasts, which strained against the tightness of her stays. Soon the pale yellow dress lay on the floor by his shirt, and he began the painfully tedious task of releasing her from her stays.
With each pull at the laces, his fingers sent shocks through his body. Those same fingers that were accustomed to assessing and gently manipulating fabrics and ribbons now felt thick and clumsy as they pawed at the cording that tied her corset, every tug renewing the glorious agony that spread throughout his being, until at last the garment was loosed from her body and fell to her feet.
Remaining at her back, Edward let his arms drift to Madelyn’s waist before sliding up her body to cup her breasts in his hands. Caressing these soft mounds of flesh, so supple and heavy in his hands, his mind returned briefly to that afternoon in the cellar of the barn when he had first caught a glimpse of her naked torso, and his body responded immediately. As he spun her around to catch her mouth once more with his own, he whispered, “I cannot believe I ever thought you to be a boy.”
She shifted her head so that her mouth was now by his ear, and as she nibbled his earlobe, she whispered back, “come to the bed with me, my love, and I will prove to you once and for all that I am, indeed, a girl.”