Lucy Gordon - A Convenient Wedding

‘You may kiss the bride.’

The vicar’s words broke into her thoughts. Before she had time to wonder how Jarvis would deal with this one his hands were lightly on her shoulders and he was drawing her towards him to rest his lips against hers. And such a feeling of happiness pervaded her that she gave a little gasp that he sensed.

His own happiness had caught him by surprise. He’d been worried about this moment-performing for an audience was how he thought of it-but as soon as he held her the audience vanished. They were alone with the scent of summer all around, and it was as though her lightness of heart had communicated itself directly to him; he who had never known what it was to be light-hearted.

He smiled at her. She smiled back and was still smiling as she and Jarvis walked the length of the aisle and out into the sunlight. Everyone who saw that smile read it differently. Sarah thought it was a smile of triumph and bit her lip. Some of the watchers thought she was enjoying a good joke from which she would soon tire. One or two of them read her correctly, and among them was Larry Rivers, who saw much that he never spoke of.

The wedding feast might have been awkward, but wasn’t, thanks mainly to Ferdy, who kept his speech short and tactful. Everyone noticed that Jarvis couldn’t tear his eyes from his bride, and there was eager applause when he took her in his arms for the first dance.

‘You did everything perfectly,’ he murmured. ‘How did you realise?’

‘I understand far more than you think, Jarvis.’

He smiled, not with his mouth but with his eyes, and her heart started to pound strongly. This was their wedding night. They’d never talked about how it would end, although she guessed he would keep his distance if he could. But she was too much a woman to let him keep that resolve.

There were duty dances to be done. Jarvis took the vicar’s wife onto the floor while Meryl waltzed with Everett Hamlin, who sang Sarah’s praises.

‘She really knows her stuff about horses. We’ve invited her over for a visit later in the year.’

Meryl joined in the praise, grateful for anything that would ease Sarah’s suppressed resentment. A few minutes later she was dancing with Benedict, who was struggling to keep his spirits up, and not succeeding.

‘Thank you for everything,’ she said. ‘I know I’ve been a trial to you, letting you finish the first dress and then changing my mind three days ago. You worked a miracle getting everything done on time.’

‘As long as you’re happy,’ he said, forcing a smile.

‘Oh, Benedict, is it as bad as that?’

‘I got to thinking about the day I married Amanda, how happy we were, how beautiful she looked in her wedding dress. Oh, Meryl, what am I going to do?’

‘Things will get better. She loves you; she’ll come back in the end.’

‘I don’t believe it. I’ve got nothing to look forward to.’

‘Except that you’re going into business in a big way. I’ll be taking a flying trip to New York to help start it up. I want to be involved in everything. It’s going to be so thrilling.’

‘Yes,’ he said, trying to sound cheerful. ‘Thrilling.’

‘Hey,’ she teased, ‘don’t tell me I did all this for nothing.’

That made him smile. ‘Meryl, I’ll be grateful all my life for what you’ve done for me-’

‘Skip that,’ she said hastily. ‘You said it all on the first day. What’s your point?’

‘This. Don’t kid a kidder. I’m just your cover. First of all you did it to tell Larry where he got off, and recently-well, let’s just say you had another agenda.’

‘Is it that obvious?’

‘Only to me. But then, I’m in love, too.’

‘Shh!’ She placed her finger over her lips in the manner of a conspirator.

‘Look at her,’ Sarah said, glancing over her shoulder as she waltzed with Jarvis. ‘Sharing a secret joke with him at your wedding. Don’t you realise it’s you they’re laughing at?’

‘I don’t think so,’ Jarvis replied gravely. ‘I’m beginning to think-I might have been wrong about Meryl-maybe-’

‘That’s what she wants you to think.’

‘Hush, my dear. Don’t say anything bad about her. I don’t like to hear it.’

She fell silent, and the party swirled on to its close.

THE last guest had gone to bed, the last sounds of revelry had faded. Meryl sat in her room listening to the castle shutting down around her.

How quiet it was. The loudest sound was the beating of her own heart; a bride waiting for her groom. Except that it wasn’t like that.

It was a business arrangement. Jarvis would resist the temptation to come to her, no matter how he longed to yield. Today he’d briefly weakened because of the spell cast by the wedding, but that was fading, as she should have known it would. Instead, a few glances, an ardent look in his eyes, and she’d deluded herself.

As she undressed and put out the light the euphoria of the occasion melted away like popping champagne bubbles, and the great room seemed to mock her.

She lay for an hour, listening, her heart beating at every tiny noise. From below came the soft roar of the sea swirling at the base of the castle. Nearby there were a dozen creaks and whines in the old building. She knew them all. But the one she longed to hear was the sound of a door opening at the far end of the passage that connected their rooms, the sound that would tell her there was more to this moment than a contract fulfilled.

He would come to her, because he wanted her. She knew that with every fibre of the body that ached for him. He would stay away because he distrusted her, because he’d spent his life fending off anyone who might get too close to him, knowing that that way lay desertion and pain. And she was the greatest threat of all.

He would come to her room because he couldn’t stay away.

He would stay away because he was too stubborn to concede defeat.

‘But so am I,’ she murmured into the darkness. ‘And I don’t mind sacrificing the first pawn, as long as I can mate the king.’

Moving decisively now, she slipped out of bed, pulled a lacy robe on over her nakedness and noiselessly opened the door into the passage. Just a brief hesitation, while her nerve almost failed her, then her head went up and she took the first step into the darkness.

She inched her way slowly along the narrow corridor, then paused again. Suppose he wasn’t in his room at all? Suppose he was there but snubbed her? He’d resisted temptation. It was she who’d weakened.

As she stood there, torn with indecision, a noise from the far end made her heart beat with frantic, disbelieving hope. A quiet click, then the sound of the door easing open, then silence.

She sensed rather than heard someone moving closer and stopping a few inches away. The heat of his body reached her, his warm breath, and finally the faint sensation of his fingertips on her face, her lips. An uncontrollable tremor went through her and her heart beat madly as his touch trailed down her neck to the swell of her breasts. Then it vanished altogether and she gasped in protest. The sudden deprivation was unbearable.

She waited for him to caress her again, and in the silent darkness she could experience his struggle. He neither moved nor spoke, but his torment reached her in waves. Now it was her turn to reach out until her fingers brushed his face.

It was as though a spark had set off a charge of electricity. Hands came from nowhere to seize her shoulders and pull her against him with all the urgency he’d been trying to deny. Beneath a light robe he was as naked as she, and now she could feel the power of his desire, demanding, unstoppable.

He paused, waiting for her signal. A mortal, fallen into the hands of fairies, might have waited like that, wondering what mysterious step he was asked to take. Meryl found his hand, grasped it, began to retreat to her own room, drawing him after her, until she could close her door behind them.

There was no moon and the mullioned windows gave very little light, but that was good. Tonight darkness would be her friend, blotting out everything except those selves that they would give to each other. The selves of the daytime, wary, fumbling, hiding suspicion beneath bright words, had withdrawn a little way, so that these two might reach out to each other in a shared secret.

Instinct told her that he wanted to speak, but she brushed her fingers across his lips. Words must came later, or perhaps not at all. When her fingertips had left his lips her mouth followed, touching him softly at first, then more determinedly as her message became unmistakable and he answered with one of his own.

This wasn’t like the kiss he’d given her for the cameras, when his surprise had been clear to her, or like the one earlier today, in the church, when she’d sensed the eagerness and warmth that were overtaking him, despite his resolution not to yield. He’d yielded now and was giving her the kiss he’d always wanted to give, and the one she’d always wanted to receive.

She felt him toss away her robe and his own. No barriers between them at last, nothing to stop her exploring his masculinity and revelling in every discovery.

They lay together on the bed, body to body. Without sight she had to rely on her other senses, and this man reached her through them all. The power and force of him was against her hands, her breasts, her thighs. The tangy scent of him was in her nostrils and her mouth wherever she kissed him. With every step her desire flowered, demanded more. Jarvis had always feared that she’d come to conquer, and he was right. But it wasn’t his lands or title she claimed. Only the man himself would do. She would never be satisfied with less.

He too was exploring, lingering on the curves and valleys that had tempted him, free now to indulge his curiosity. The soft roundness of her breasts against his palms made a sigh break from him. She heard it and arched against him, wanting more of him. He wouldn’t give her the words of love, she knew that, but there were signs that she could read.

And the signs were there in the ardour and tenderness with which he claimed her, parting her legs gently and moving slowly, giving her time to think, even to reject him. But she was way past that now. She reached for him, pulled him over her, claiming him in the moment that he claimed her. Giving and taking together. Possession, yielding, surrender, triumph.

And then astonishment. Lying beside him, matching her breathing to his, wondering how anything could be so wonderful as this feeling. And sensing, with awe and wonder, that he felt the same.

When she awoke in the half-light and found herself alone she was sad but not dismayed. She’d more than half expected this and besides, dismay was for faint hearts. No woman could be faint-hearted after such a night of loving. All the passion he couldn’t put into words had been there in his arms, his lips, his caresses that had been tender and purposeful, his loins that had claimed her like a man possessed.

And that was true. He had been possessed by another self, a self who could love and give openly and without fear. And one day, with her help, that other self would claim him completely, and she would awake to find him still in her bed, sleeping trustingly beside her, his arms about her, his face buried in her flesh as though he’d finally found his refuge.

She promised herself that, as she lay there in the quiet dawn.

As the last wedding guest departed Benedict carefully packed up his things, ready to leave. But he was detained a little longer by Meryl, who had something to show him.

She took him to Little Grands and introduced him to Sadie. Benedict was as thrilled with the knits as she’d known he would be, and with her help he went the rounds of the farms where he found women knitting to a standard that had him chortling with delight. There were discussions, chaired by Meryl. Contracts were arranged. Benedict put his head together with Sadie, and when she’d shown him some more of her designs and he’d filtered her ideas through his own needs, they discovered they had evolved a style.

It took three days to set up. Jarvis observed mildly that she seemed to be very busy and Meryl debated the wisdom of telling him details about the knitting. But she couldn’t forget how dismissive he’d been when she first mentioned the idea. It would be better to wait until she could show some real results. So she said merely that she’d spent the time showing Benedict the district, and Jarvis forbore to ask questions.

On the day of Benedict’s departure Ferdy called to ferry them across the water. Jarvis went down to the boat with them, cheerfully carrying bales of wedding dress material. The original luxurious dress that Meryl had rejected was carried by Benedict, who was a mass of nerves as it was transferred to the boat.