The maid's giggled with the excitement that Christine was supposed to be feeling as they brushed her hair softly, fiddling with her nightgown and spraying her with perfume. She was in Raoul's bedroom now, not the rooms that she had inhabited before; and it was strange as for the first time she realised that she had never seen it before. It was very much like hers, only masculine. She expected it had been more so before they had married; before her things were placed in with his. Yet in here they seemed to intrude on what was his; her dressing table, not quite matching his nightstand.
Once the candles were lit and the curtains drawn Christine was left alone, to nervously pace the length of the room. The words of Madame Giry came back to her, as she bent to stoke the fire that hissed silently behind the grate. Raoul loved her and would not hurt her; he would care for her always. Yet as she thought of what would be her stomach flipped…how could she commit this act of passion when she felt so numb?
She started when she heard the door open, jumping to her feet as Raoul entered. He remained at a distance, his eyes taking in the woman that was now his wife. She looked so beautiful standing above the fire, the shadows dancing on her face, that he could hardly believe that they were here…at last they would be together.
"Have all the guests gone?" Christine began, looking down at the fire as she felt him approach.
"All except Meg and Madame Giry. It was too late to call for the carriage so I told them to stay," his voice came, as she felt how close he was to her. Silently he placed a hand on her shoulder, turning her face around to his. He studied her eyes, smiling at her confused expression before sighing, "Little Lottie let her mind wander…" He kissed her mouth lightly before whispering, "Don't be afraid Little Lottie…I would never harm you. I love you more than life itself. Don't fear me…" His voice came again before he kissed her earlobe.
Christine did not feel ready, yet she knew her time had come. She couldn't remain a child forever. She saw Raoul moving to undress but she yelped, moving over to the candles before saying, "Please can we put out the lights. I don't feel I can….Please?"
With a look of mischief Raoul blew out the candles, and so did Christine; so that now the room was illuminated by just the dying embers of the fire. For some reason, although she knew that he could not see her, she turned away before undressing, laying her clothes carefully on the back of her chair, before slipping beneath the sheets. She lay on her side, her hand raised to her mouth as she nervously bit her fingers; feeling the bed move as her husband climbed in beside her.
She swallowed hard when she felt is bare flesh press up against her own, knowing that soon she would have to turn round, and kiss him, and let him take her and make her his wife.
It was awkward and fumbled, and Christine froze as the feelings that were so new and strange engulfed her. Raoul gasped in pleasure as he moved against her but Christine was silent; her eyes closed tight against him; his face buried in her neck. Tears sprung to her eyes and rolled softly down her cheeks as she felt Raoul stiffen then lie, as if lifeless, upon her. Eventually he moved, sliding next to her, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her close against his sweating body. She felt him kiss her hair and she heard him say that he loved her…and eventually she heard him sigh and fall asleep, his grip loosening around her.
Slowly, when she was sure that he was asleep she stood up, her lower body aching and sore. Unable to bear the feeling of his flesh against her own she dressed quickly, rubbing her skin frantically, and tying back her hair. She glanced at the shape of the man in the bed, his golden hair falling about his face. As the last of the fire died, the red light turning into opaque night, Christine fumbled with the drawers of her dresser to find the rose which she had concealed there. And, at that moment when night is too late to be morning Christine pressed the rose against her face, her nostrils filling with its sweet scent; and cried.
