Her stomach growled again, and Elizabeth laughed through her embarrassment. “I suppose that I am hungry,” she murmured, and she took her seat and began to eat.
“This food is quite extraordinary,” she said after a while. “I did not know that an inn could provide such excellent fare.”
“This is one of the best inns on the northward road,” her husband explained. “We pay more for comfort and good food, and it makes living so far from Town, and having to travel back and forth, much more reasonable.”
Elizabeth accepted a second glass of wine, but she only took a sip, wishing to be as alert as possible for her wedding night.
Her wedding night!
After they had eaten, Fitzwilliam said, “Should I ring for your abigail, or should I do the honours, for this particular disrobing?”
Elizabeth thought swiftly. A mere half hour had passed since he had indicated they would wish for a bath in two hours. The beautiful nightgown which was the top garment in her trunk should wait until after the bath, which meant that now….
She felt as if a blush was darkening her already red cheeks, and she supposed that she might spend the rest of her life blushing—but not, she told herself, a blushing maiden. She stood up and said, “Let me be your valet and you be my abigail.”
He led the way to their bedchambers, locked that door, and began to unbutton the back of her dress and unlace her stays.She was startled as he began to kiss each part of her back as he gained access to it. She felt the familiar sensations in her own body—sensations she had treasured when he kissed her—even though the kisses down her back were very different. Soon he was rolling her stockings down her legs, and she stood before him in her chemise.
His eyes seemed very appreciative. She remembered a line from his vows:With my body I thee worship. It was apparently not going to be a problem for him to fulfil that vow in spirit or word.
She got to work on his cravat as he unbuttoned his coat and waistcoat. He had toed off his shoes, and he sat on the bed to remove his stockings. She felt almost faint as he stood again, dressed only in his partially-unbuttoned shirt and trousers.
During their courtship, Fitzwilliam had talked quite frequently about her beauty, buthewas the one who was beautiful.
“Can we do it with the candles lit?” she asked.
“Yes. We can do things—and there is no ‘it,’ but rather many different activities—in strong daylight or in the darkest, most overcast night. We can do these things indoors or out, on the floor or in bed, in a chair or against a wall.”
“You…you cannot be serious?”
“I am very serious, my love.” He gathered her into his arms and slowly stroked her back, then cupped her bottom with one hand and pulled her tighter against him—against his male part which she only vaguely knew about from occasionally seeing farm animals mate. It was mysteriously large and rigid and pushing at his trousers, and she knew that he could not always walk around with it being so…prominent.
She filed that away in her mind for later contemplation. For now she said, “By all means, then, let there be light.”
“If we are to be Biblical, I will mention that it is high time I not only hold fast to my wife, but that we become one flesh.”
“Yesss….” Elizabeth murmured the moment before his lips took control of her mouth. It was, it seemed, time to show her husband how very much she trusted him.
After their explorationsin the bed and on the hearthside rug, the newlyweds donned dressing gowns and asked for the bath water. Elizabeth was surprised that the activities of the so-called martial “bed” were easily adapted to the watery and soapy tub, and then Fitzwilliam gave a very capable demonstration of the use of a wall. Back in her dressing gown and sitting in his lap, trying to regulate her breathing again, Elizabeth said, “Fitzwilliam, I absolutely reject the possibility of exploring such pursuits outdoors, at least tonight.”
He chuckled and tightened his hold on her as servants entered, responding to his request to remove the bathwater.
That finally accomplished, Fitzwilliam rang for refreshments and another bottle of wine, and then he rang for his valet, Jameson, and her abigail, Baker.
When the food had been delivered, he stayed in the sitting room where his valet would give him a shave, and she retired to the bed chamber to finally don the beautiful nightgown and to have her hair combed out and pinned in a simple style.
They regrouped in the sitting room, and she praised his silk banyan—but not nearly so eloquently as he complimented her gown. They refuelled on the collation of tongue, double Gloucester cheese, candied fruits, pastry, and claret.
“I spot no calf’s-feet jelly, Husband.”
“It may be that it was not clear enough to serve. I believe that some guests may have been shaking the entire inn.”
“Oh, dear, that is quite rude of those guests, whoever they are.”
“I am not positive that anyone will truly feel the loss of the jelly, my dear. But, as to the actions of those guests, I believe it is possible that the lady did not follow the established wisdom of lying perfectly still and silently enduring.”
“That advice seems to me to be impossible. Even if I was threatened with death if we were heard, it remains inconceivable that I could possibly stay still and silent!”
“Perhaps some husbands have not had the training I did. It is remarkable how marvellous my memory is of that one night, almost a decade ago, and how useful such a memory has been. My father explained that it took a lot of floundering for him to discover?—”
