by Ella Edon
But laugh they did, and as he rose, he looked to Cecily to see if she was joining in on the merriment, but she was not. She looked concerned, although, as the maid of honor, her duties were clear, she needed to hold the long train of Garance’s dress while she said her vows.
And Jonathan knew the effort it had taken for Garance to agree to any of these strange customs, and so when he kissed her it was with the kind of fervor that was legendary in their later life. He felt at that moment the kiss he gave her was the opening salvo in the most romantic (her term) love affair in all of history. Music was playing the entire time, thanks to the Romantic works of Cipriani Potter. He had provided an orchestra to play dramatic music to underscore every moment of the ceremony, and it matched their moods perfectly. It was only Peter Nunn who continued to feel strange, wobbly, and awkward, somewhat embarrassed by his fainting spell.
As soon as the kiss was complete, though, the wedding was finished and so Jonathan lifted Garance off her feet and carried her to the wedding reception, which was a meal featuring the finest cheeses, the most delicious French cooking, lovingly prepared by Jonathan’s cook, and the most delicious wines. The centerpiece of the entire event was the cake.
Wedding cakes at the time, or ‘bride cakes’ were small round fruitcakes in England. But, as Garance pointed out to anyone who would listen afterward, the bride was not English and had no interest in the dried fruit cake that would represent their union in confection.
“I have chosen a cake that would represent our love,” she said with flair. “And that cake is the beautiful and delicious croquembouche,” she declared. A croquembouche was a tall cone like a fir tree made of spun sugar, to which were attached a whole series of profiteroles. A series of sugared almonds, chocolate drops, and edible flowers made it into a work of art. It was coated with chocolate ganache and hundreds of colorful macarons.
Each guest approached this massive sweet treasure, and one after another they were amazed at the beauty. “How is this made? The French are far superior to our bakers, it is clear.”
“We have a thing called a pastry chef in France, and this pastry chef was one man named Antonin Carême, of Paris, who traveled to England to manufacture this wonder of the pastry world.”
It was more than four feet high and as it stood on the table under the early spring sun, it began to warm, which made the profiteroles begin to slowly run down the sides. Every person who tasted one of these profiteroles was stunned by the deliciousness of the chocolate inside this crunchy treasure.
“Jonathan,” whispered Garance into his ear. “This is the culmination of all that is brilliant in the trivial arts of the French culture. I think it somehow sums up what I can bring to you. Do you understand what I mean?”
“I think so, although I find your gifts are far from trivial,” he said with a smile. “I dared not ask you to sing at your own wedding of course, but I think the company would be grateful to see what a jewel I have married.”
“I have actually asked Little Chip to prepare a song. And I shall sing it as soon as this beautiful symphonic work is complete,” she said, listening to the beautiful clarinet melody that was accompanied by the ‘cellos.
Moments later, the music stopped, and all eyes looked to Cipriani Potter, who turned with great elegance, and smiled at the assembled guests, who were, uncharacteristically, listening with great attention to his music.
“You do me too great an honor,” he said, smiling broadly at Garance. “Surely you know, ladies and gentlemen, that I have had the honor of acting as accompanist to The Parisian Nightingale. She has honored me twice by asking me to write music for her wedding, and you have just heard most of it. But there is one last thing - as uncharacteristic of an English wedding - she wants to sing a song. As you may know, I am from Irish stock and when she wanted to sing at her wedding, the only song that could be performed is this one.”
He turned to the orchestra, took the violin from the concertmaster, and began playing a lush and beautiful melody on the solo violin.
The entire wedding party, as joyous as it felt, fell silent. Flutes entered, accompanying the solo violin, drawing a beautiful and dense melody across the invisible barriers of the sunlit sky.
A timpani roll gave the impression of thunder rising from the depths. It was as though all of nature had come together to perform a miracle in sound, and Potter knew exactly which sounds to evoke, whether it was the haunting curlew or the fox, the music was as though torn from the earth.
But things became astonishing when suddenly, Garance began to sing. She sang a slow and languorous melody she looked at Jonathan:
My own love said to me, “My mother won’t mind
And my father won’t slight you for your lack of kind.”
He went away from me and this he did say
“It will not be long, love, till our wedding day.”
And as she listened for the beautiful violin melody entwining around the flute countermelody, the ‘cellos providing the heartbeat, she turned from Jonathan and she walked through the assembled guests. Then she sang to Margaret and her parents the next verse:
He stepped away from me and he moved through the fair
And slowly I watched him move here and move there,
He went his way slowly with one star awake
As the swan in the evening moves over the lake.
And then, she turned away from them, and approached Cecily, who was standing close to D’Arcy Dancer, who was looking very happy indeed. She sang directly to her, knowing the words would sink into her soul:
I dreamed last night that your own love came in,
He came in so softly his feet made no din,
He stepped up beside you and this he did say,
“It will not be long love, till our wedding day.”
At the end of this, her very serious face finally broke into a smile, a smile so wide she felt it would crack her face until the orchestra played a full verse of the song, as she turned from Cecily back to Jonathan, who was standing, his mouth agape, not knowing what to say. It was as though he had cast a spell, taking a beautiful English wedding and transforming it into something that would have taken place on the Ganges river or in the Himalayas. Everyone seemed to be of one accord. None of them knew what to do. There was no applause, there was nothing. Just a look of great gratitude to her and to Jonathan, and to all who had come to see this magnificent creation.
Epilogue
The Joy that Comes with Marriage
Garance was very happy during the ceremony of marriage, of course, but as time dragged on, she began to see things differently. People were quick to congratulate her on her joy and happiness, but they seemed to think their presence was critical to that happiness and joy. And nothing could be further from the truth for her. There was, in fact, only one person who was important to her, now that the ceremony was over.
There had been a surfeit of fertility symbols in the ceremony, at least seen from her perspective. She had felt at once clothed and naked all day, and the point her new sister-in-law Cecily had made about the reason for a wedding ceremony being to prepare the groom for the ‘undiscovered country’ of her body made her uneasy. Her body had already been discovered, and although she had stopped feeling guilty about making love with the man she loved, she was definitely looking forward to making love to him again.
And so, for hours, she looked at him, admiring the way he moved through the crowd, or how the line of his jaw was very beautiful, as he spoke to some other lord. The longer she watched and admired her new husband, the longer she wanted to be alone with him. He seemed to be enjoying the anticipation, and from time to time, he would look at her and smile. This served to make her want him more.
“I trust you are happy with today’s festivities,” said Miss Cordelia de Montmorency, looking at Garance, and noticing she was getting more and more desperate to leave the party.
“I am very pleased,” said Garance, trying her best to be civil to this decidedly r
ude woman.
“I suppose you know it is no secret that Sir Jonathan was the most eligible bachelor in all of England,” she went on. “And now, you have left only the crumbs of his friends.”
“I’m not sure I understand,” said Garance.
“You will, once I announce my intended,” she said.
“Well, I wish you the best of luck,” said Garance, and this was the moment when she knew she could take no more. She moved to Jonathan, who was talking to Simon Northridge. “Jonathan, I think it is time,” she said cryptically.
Jonathan, noticing her desire to be alone, cut short his conversation to Simon and took her hand. “I agree,” she said. “Let us go to our bedroom.”
Garance had no idea which bedroom he was referring to, but as they climbed the stairs, she became aware that the master bedroom, which had been reserved for His Lordship the Earl, Jonathan’s father, had been fitted with her things and his things during the ceremony, and it was now the room she would call home.
Jonathan opened the door and Garance was amazed that every little personal possession had been moved and put away while they had been making their vows to one another. She smiled. “This is remarkable!” she said. And, pushing the door closed, she turned the key in the lock and turned to him. “Alone at last!” she said, smiling.
Jonathan, who had been sitting on the bed, rose and came to her. “Garance, I must tell you that ever since I first laid eyes on you, I have wanted this moment. I cannot put into words how filled with joy I am, to be with you as husband and wife.”
“I feel precisely the same way,” she said, putting her hand on the back of his head and guiding him to the nape of her neck. She felt his lips on her and closed her eyes, imagining the joy that would ensue.
Jonathan put his hands on her and removed the train that had been trailing behind her. It fluttered to the floor. She put her hands on his chest, and slowly removed his jacket and cummerbund. Then she began to unfasten his studs, that held closed his blouse. As she saw his naked torso, she was overwhelmed with lust for his perfect body.
“I have known this body in my heart for months,” she said. “And only now can I know that it was made just for me. To make my dreams come true.” She ran her hands up and down his firm chest, tracing the lines of his musculature.
Then, she began to unfasten his trousers, allowing them to fall to the ground around his ankles. He deftly removed his shoes and then his stockings, revealing his naked body in all its glory.
While she admired him, he unfastened her tiara, and then her gown, watching as it fell around her. She stepped out of it, with her red shoes still on her feet. Garance was somewhat self-conscious of her feet, and made no effort to remove them, but pushed him backward onto the bed.
He lay on the bed as she rose up and straddled his named form, noting that he was very much interested in what was happening. She leaned down to him and kissed his lips tenderly, feeling her breasts on his chest. His hands rose and cradled her breasts, smiling with unconcealable joy.
“I always knew you were the very embodiment of perfection,” he whispered into her ear. She kissed him on his ear, and worked her way down his body to where his manhood gave away his lusty desired. Taking it in her small hands, she kneaded it, and it rose to the occasion. She slid her body up his, and felt as his manhood gently entered her. The feeling was not like that lusty evening several months ago when they had let their animal desires get the better of them. This moment was one of great happiness and joy, and as she felt him plunge deeply into her, she gasped.
“I hope I am not hurting you!” he said, concerned.
“Not at all,” she said, rising and falling as he went in and out, causing her to tremble with anticipation of his next move. His lips were on her breasts, and she pushed them out for him, while she allowed him to push desperately into her with a series of gasps.
“I cannot express the happiness I feel at this moment,” she said, smelling violets all around her from the vases filled with flowers.
“Nor can I,” he said, his voice fluttering with nervousness. His body, though, was behaving precisely like the perfect creation it appeared to be.
Garance pushed him into her deeply and he gasped. She felt his seed escape his body and enter hers, and knew there would be joy in months’ time.
Following this moment of extreme ecstasy, she collapsed beside him, smiling at first and then laughing. For several minutes, the two of them lay on the bed, smiling seraphically, enjoying the freedom that came with the idea of being married to one another.
His strong shoulders were like marble, his torso powerful and wild as a jaguar, his legs as strong as a horse. He seemed to have infinite power within his frame, and touching him gave her something like the feeling one experiences when one puts one’s finger into a candle flame; dangerous and beautiful, but with a hint of the wild and uncontrollable. “Why do you suppose this is more enjoyable when we are legally married?” asked Garance, running her fingers gently over his naked body, and enjoying the shape of his male physique.
“Because we are united, we are the reunification of the original souls who lived on this earth many thousands of years ago, when, because of our disobedience to the Gods, were separated, and condemned to wander forever until we accidentally encounter our other half. The chances of this happening are so infinitesimally small that the wonder of it is overwhelming.”
“My Lord,” she said in a joking tone. “You are too romantic to be believed. You are my only love, my one true other half.”
But in truth, Garance did feel as though she were finally reunited with her other half. She moved closer to him, and felt his strong arm cuddle her to him, and she knew all her dreams had come true.
Extended Epilogue
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Afterword
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Do you want more Romance?
Turn on the next page to read the first chapters of my first full-length novel: The Earl’s Dangerous Passion
It's a story like no other... There is danger, passion, obsession, secrets, and two people that must solve a mysterious case while protecting their hearts...
The Earl’s Dangerous Passion
Chapter One
The walls were closing in on her. She was having problems breathing properly, and having people coming to congratulate the bride on her nuptials, jostling her as they went past, was not helping the matter. Amy took a deep breath and tried to stop her heart from going too fast.
She hated social occasions. Balls, dinner parties, weddings, the whole lot. It meant going into Society and seeing people that Amy had no desire to interact with. Her idea of socializing was two, maybe three, select friends coming over to the house or meeting her in the park. Small gatherings suited her much better. If it weren’t for Sarah, Amy wouldn’t be here at all.
Beside her, Sarah, the new Marchioness of Merseyside, signaled one of the footmen over. She gave the young man a pretty smile as she put her empty glass on the tray, picking up a full flute with the other hand. The footman gave her a slight bow and silently moved on. Amy frowned. Her best friend had drunk quite a bit since she had gotten married earlier in the day. Already her cheeks were a little more flushed than normal under her powder.
“You need to take it easy, Sarah,” she warned. “You’re going to keel over if you keep drinking so much, and I’m not going to pick you up off the floor.”
Sarah laughed and took a sip, her eyes
twinkling at Amy.
“Oh, don’t fuss so about me, Amy. It’s a wedding. My wedding. I’m allowed to enjoy myself.”
“Not to the point you’re unable to walk at the end of the evening.”
Sarah rolled her eyes and linked arms with her best friend. In her wedding gown, her fiery red hair perfectly piled up on her head, she looked the vision of an angel. Amy didn’t think it was possible for Sarah to look any more beautiful.
“You are such a fusspot, Amy,” Sarah teased.
“I’m no such thing!”
“You are. You worry over the slightest thing.” Sarah squeezed Amy’s arm, taking another sip. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. Believe it or not, I can drink a lot more than this and still be coherent.”
