The Rakehell Regency Romance Series Boxed Set 5

by MacMurrough, Sorcha

  For Georgina had nothing if not expensive tastes. In fact, he was sure she was going out of her way to fill Ellen’s head with nonsense about the wedding reception and the clothes, the better to make her nervous, or even get her to change her mind.

  "Never mind about the wedding gown. We’ll provide it," Ash said, raising his voice to be heard above the chatter.

  "What on earth do you mean?" Georgina gasped, looking daggers at him. She was not finished with him yet, not by a long chalk.

  "We have our own Indian traditions, which I would like to uphold as best we can."

  "Such as?"

  "For one thing, she will have to wear a red wedding gown. A sari."

  "Red ? It simply isn’t done!" Mr. Jerome said in horror.

  "Apparently it is, in India," Ash said calmly.

  "We are in England."

  "If Ash wants me to wear red because it is his tradition, Father, I shall do it out of respect for him and his family," Ellen said, her tone firm.

  "We will walk over here and then she will be carried back to my house in the carriage. We can have a wedding breakfast just like everyone does here in England, but we will also ask that we might be allowed to help with the cooking of some traditional dishes from my country.

  "And I know we must be married in a Christian ceremony, but I would like to have a couple of readings from one of our holy men."

  Her parents looked resigned. His parents, who had been summoned by messenger to share in the news and come to lend moral support, simply smiled and said they would help in whatever way they could.

  So Ash contacted Jonathan Deveril, sent to London for his cousins and a Hindu priest, and began to renovate his portion of the house with Eswara’s help.

  Ellen began to pack up her worldly possessions, taking a long hard look at them before deciding whether they should come with her or stay.

  Every day as the wedding approached, she had to put up with a litany from Georgina in which she attempted to talk her out of her course of action. Her sister claimed she was doing it for her own good, but Ellen knew better.

  Georgina said spitefully, "You’re mad. You mark my words. A man like that! He’ll lead you a merry dance. He won’t be able to keep it in his trousers!"

  "He was where you were concerned," Ellen said calmly. "I saw you trying to seduce him out in the garden the night of the dance. Actually I have to thank you, for it was then I realised how much I loved him."

  "You just were afraid I would have him," she replied with withering scorn.

  "No, I have no reason to fear," Ellen said calmly. "He loves me."

  "Until the novelty of having an English wife wears off and he goes crawling back to whatever gutter in Calcutta he came from. He will never fit in, and your children—"

  "Stop it, I’m not listening. We love each other. We’ll make it work."

  "A red wedding gown. The very idea."

  Ellen gave a toss of her curls. "At least it will be a wedding everyone will remember."

  "Aye, one they won’t be able to forget, you mean. Uncle Timberlake hates him. And once you get yourself talked about, you will never live it down. Why, already Bridges—"

  "Don’t even mention that swine’s name. He’s a mangy mongrel, Georgina, and you’re a demmed fool for having anything to do with him."

  "My, my, awfully tetchy all of a sudden. Afraid Ash is going to find out he’s had you?"

  "Get out! Now! And don’t you dare offer to be a bridesmaid. I’ll stand up alone."

  Georgina looked genuinely shocked. "Pa will be appalled."

  Ellen rolled her eyes. "Pa will live. After all, he’s managed to survive being appalled by you for five years, hasn’t he, dear sister?"

  With a last twitch of her skirts, the fuming Georgina left.

  Ellen and Ash were allowed some time alone in the Jerome family drawing room before the ceremony, which he explained to her simply.

  "A Hindu marriage follows the rituals which started in the Vedic times. First a muhurat is chosen, an auspicious time of the year. This is perfect, the spring, new life. The bride’s home traditionally hosts the ceremony, and we shall spend the evening singing, dancing and eating.

  "A day before the wedding, your palms and feet will be decorated with henna, in the mehandi ceremony. We also need to put up a canopy or mandapa decorated with flowers in the ballroom.

  "Mother will give you some turmeric to annoint you with for luck on the morning of the wedding, and we will need thousands of flower petals instead of rice or wheat kernels for various stages of the ceremony."

  "I can’t wait to wear my gown," she said, glowing with eager anticipation. "It’s so fine, it’s like gossamer. I love the red, and the gold embroidery is exquisite."

  "Don’t forget all the jeweled butterflies for your hair."

  "Yes, your aunt gave them to me."

  "And you have all the gems?"

  She nodded. "Yes, earbobs, and all the bangles, for wrists and ankles."

  "And the golden band to encircle your slender waist. And the toe rings."

  "I don’t think I’ll be able to walk," she joked.

  "You’ll need to for the ceremony."

  "Easy for you to say. You haven’t got to wear a ton of jewels, only your veil on your turban, and that’s only made of flowers."

  "The sehara , yes, to symbolise the status of Vishnu being conferred upon the groom."

  "Anyway, you’re coming over to the house here with all your friends and family in the groom’s wedding procession, right?"

  "That’s right, the Baraat. We’ll shoot off fireworks and all of my friends will dance and play drums. When we get to the milani, the official meeting point, your family will drape us with garlands. Your mother will perform an arati, a blessing, the women in your family will shower me with flowers, and then I will be led into the ballroom.

  "Once you come in we exchange garlands to denote formal mutual acceptance. We will sit under the canopy next to each other before a sacrificial pit or havana kund. Then the detailed ritual of kanyadaan, the marriage will begin."

  "It sounds so lovely."

  "It will be." He stroked her cheek, and leaned forward to kiss her until they were both breathless.

  "So what happens next?" she asked once they had forced themselves to separate.

  "The eldest in the family and our closest friends will sit nearest the mandapa. If we were in India, the rest of the group could make free with the food, but we need to be respectful to Jonathan as he performs his part of the ceremony."

  "Don’t remind me about the food. I’ve never seen so many prawns and unusual spices in my life."

  "It will be delicious, I promise. And there will be lots of other non-Indian things to eat," he said, toying with a blond curl.

  "Anyway, back to the ceremony, Ash. We’re going to do the blessings and the vows, and my father is going to give me away, so we will be married in the English sense. But then there is the second part of the ritual."

  "That’s right, pradakshina starts, in which we will ritually walk seven times around the sacrificial fire. Also called phera, this signifies our union.

  "The marriage ceremony then enters its most important phase, the saptapadi. We will take seven steps together facing the north. After that you’ll come to my left, leaving my right side free to take on the world. Once we do that, we will be considered married. We get sprinkled with flower petals, eat and dance."

  "And you’ve chosen a reading?"

  He nodded. "First Corinthians, Chapter 13, Verses 1 to 13, ‘If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. And if I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. If I give away all I have, and if I deliver my body to be burned, but have not love, I gain nothing. Love is patient and kind; love is not jealous or boastful; it is not arrogant or rude. Love does not insist on its own way; it is
not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrong, but rejoices in the right. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends; as for prophecies, they will pass away; as for tongues, they will cease; as for knowledge, it will pass away. For our knowledge is imperfect and our prophecy is imperfect; but when the perfect comes, the imperfect will pass away. When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child; when I became a man, I gave up childish ways. For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall understand fully, even as I have been fully understood. So faith, hope, love abide, these three; but the greatest of these is love.’"

  "Beautiful."

  "As will you be in your sari. And I thought it only apt considering how loud and flamboyant I always am."

  "But you have a big heart," she said, bestowing upon him a passionate kiss which curled his toes.

  "My heart isn’t the only huge thing around here, sweetest girl. So I suggest you sit across from me for the next couple of days until we are safely wed."

  Ellen cast her eyes down at the vast bulge in his trousers with a tremulous smile. "To say sooth, darling, if there were a female equivalent, I would be bursting out of my frock by now."

  He laughed shakily. "That’s what I love about you. Your total lack of artifice. I can’t wait to make you mine."

  "We could always—"

  "No," he said firmly, sorely tempted though he was. "I would never do anything to spoil your most perfect day, and our parents trust us. Now I must go. I have a million and one things to do to prepare for the wedding... night."

  With one cheeky wink and a kiss on her neck, he left her.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  The second Jerome-Paignton wedding in the district would indeed be talked about for years to come.

  It went like clockwork, with everything from the groom’s procession, fireworks and reception, to the ceremony and ball afterwards.

  Eswara and Martin had opted for a much more simple and traditional ceremony, since she had been several months pregnant at the time, and had not wanted to call undue attention to the already remarkable occurrence of her being enciente and marrying a man several years younger than she.

  But Ash was nothing if not proud of his new bride, and determined that though she had been shy, quiet, and retiring, everyone would get to see just how remarkable she really was.

  She was stunning on the day, and not just because of the red and gold bridal sari and jewels. She was breathlessly aquiver with anticipation of not only the ceremony, but her wedding night, and determined that no one was going to spoil her special day, not even her spiteful sister.

  Each aspect was more lovely than the next, and Ellen enjoyed every moment, every morsel of food, but she was eager to be alone with her spouse.

  However, there was no chance of them being able to slip away, for everyone wanted to dance with the bride dressed in flowing red.

  She was glad Eswara had found her a deep red gown to go underneath so she never had to worry about unravelling, and every woman in the room envied her her frock, and her new husband.

  Ash, clad in a heavily embroidered white kurta, was magnificent, looking every inch a god in his turban. Ellen had all to do not to pluck his clothes from him and drag him into her chamber.

  In fact, at one point she lured him out of the ballroom and began to lead him down the hall.

  But he shook his head and said, "No, love, not in this house."

  "Oh?"

  "I get to carry you off back to our new home, and leave the guests here to continue the party until the wee small hours of the morning."

  He put one arm around his waist, and began to lead her towards the front door of Jerome Manor.

  "We’re not bening rude, are we?" she whispered as he lifted her in his arms.

  "I think we can be forgiven, wife, for wanting to be on our own."

  "Husband." She said the word with reverent awe, and he kissed her and hurried to the waiting carriage.

  Eswara and Martin, having kept an eye on them to see when they would make their escape, called everyone to go outside to pelt them with rose petals as they head off down the drive and back to Millcote.

  "Goodbye! Good luck!" everyone called.

  Ellen waved and blew kisses.

  They were all astonished. No one had ever seen her looking so well. Who could have thought that love could have transformed her into such a gorgeous and joyous young woman?

  Her shyness was also transformed now that she and her husband were safely wed and alone at last. Ash put his hands on her shoulders and gentled her.

  "Nearly there, love. There’s no hurry, really. We’re going to go slowly, take our time to get to know each other. I need to know you, and you need to learn about me. Nothing is going to happen that you don’t wish for, Ellen. You simply tell me no if you’re frightened or scared to try anything."

  "Is it supposed to be very painful for women?" she asked timidly, as she put her hands on his shoulders so he could easily lift her down from the pony trap.

  "I mean, I know you’ve never, um, but you are a doctor, and I thought maybe one of the women you’ve know would have told you some details-"

  He put his arm around her and escorted her in through the front door of the house. "Everyone is different. But with patience it will be fine. You needn’t worry about any pain tonight, or for as many nights to come as you decide. We’re only going to take that final irrevocable step when you feel you’re ready.

  "This isn’t some mad gallop to the finish line. Your body is to be revered and worshipped by me. So it shall be when you say you’re certain and not afraid. We only get one first time. So for tonight it’s just going to be pure pleasure as we see a whole new side to each other. I never want there to be disgust or revulsion or fear between us, do you understand?"

  "I do," she said, smiling timidly. "Thank you. I feel a great deal better now."

  "And will feel even better after a bath to relax you, and some meditation," he said, leading her into the bathroom. "Would you like me to help you? Or would you like to help me?"

  "I’ll help you, if I may."

  "Certainly. It would please me very much."

  She was only postponing her own nudity, she knew, but she had to admit she was very curious. She gently removed his jacket, waistcoat, and kurta until his chest was bare, as she had seen in the past at the Holi celebrations.

  Only this time, she dared to she stroke down his muscular chest with reverent awe. He was like the statue of a god come to life, the most exquisite perfection.

  Her breath caught in her throat and she murmured, "So beautiful, so warm and soft. I so wanted to do this when you first danced for me. And after you won the race. You’re magnificent."

  "Close your eyes and feel my ribs, my muscles, whatever you like."

  She had the strangest soaring sensation as her hands glided over him, her fingers questing, brushing through the light covering of hair on his chest, the thin line down his abdomen leading to the treasure below his waistband.

  "Nice?"

  "Lovely."

  He grinned. "For me too."

  He held her lightly around the waist, forcing himself to breathe deeply when his longing for her grew too acute. He had been touched before, but never so reverently, with such love.

  Yet there was hesitation too, so much so that he coached softly, "Whenever you’re ready we can move forward, unless you want me to just take them off?"

  No, I’ll do it." She tried to suppress her blush as she matched her bold words with deeds and began to unfasten him.

  The huge mound underneath his pajama pulsated with heat, and she tried to remember everything her more worldly sister had said about the male anatomy being pathetic and ridiculous. She had obviously never met a man as fine as Ash.

  As she tugged his clothing down over his knees, and then slid his drawers after, her mouth went dry with desire and fe
ar. Ridiculous? No, incredible, every inch splendid, and straining to make them one.

  "You can see how much I desire you, darling. But I want to go beyond desire, to pleasure and peace."

  "Can I touch him?"

  "Do you think you’re ready to? I mean, I would adore it, but don’t do it if you’re worried. Don’t do it because you think you have to."

  "No, no, I want to. It’s just-"

  "A big step, I know," he said, stepping back to get his clothes fully off the lower part of his body. "So we can either undress you next, or bathe me and then undress and bathe you. What would you like?""