xoxox

Jack had woken in the dim coolness of their suite at The Hotel Windsor. Phryne was well known there (notorious even), due to her month-long stay when she had first arrived from England, but the two of them had also become known there as a couple. Sometimes because they didn't wish to disturb the household by arriving home slightly (or possibly more than slightly) inebriated in the early hours following a party. And sometimes just to be alone, because they didn't want to disturb the household in other ways…

It had been cold outside the warmth of the covers; when they had finally returned from Café Réplique Phryne had firmly stated that no, they didn't want a maid to light the fire in the morning. There had certainly been no need for the fires that had been burning in the rooms last night, but when he had made a brief foray into the icy bathroom Jack had considered telephoning down. Then again, he hadn't wanted Phryne to be woken by the activity, and he had thought it could probably wait until breakfast was brought up.

He hadn't needed to look outside to know that the view would be cold, rainy and windswept – the very best that Melbourne had to offer in July. When they were married surely it would be at a slightly less dreary time of year, and their anniversary would therefore fall during more pleasant weather. If not, they could always plan to have it somewhere in the Northern Hemisphere every now and then – he hadn't thought that Phryne would object to that.

Of course they had yet to make any sort of plans – they had both been a little overwhelmed at the Café, and upon their return to the hotel, actually discussing a wedding, or even setting a date, had been the last thing on their minds. Lying in bed the next morning, after waking surprisingly early, it was the only thing on his mind. Phryne had stirred and wriggled closer to him, so that her back rested along his legs and side, but she had remained silent, so he had simply moved his arm to rest along the top of her head, and returned to his musings.

In the cold light of day, would Phryne regret the promise they had made to each other? She had obviously put a lot of thought into it, but it had been a monumental step for her to take. She certainly wouldn't want to hurt him, but he had a niggling doubt that she would actually go through with it. Thinking about it, agreeing to it were all well and good, but how would she feel when they revealed their engagement to their families? To their friends? How would she feel when the world at large discovered that the Honourable Miss Phryne Fisher, footloose seductress, was planning on 'settling down'?

A lot of people might not agree with her rather loose morals, but those same people would probably be the ones to accuse her of abandoning her own principles. She might be bold, fierce, and strong, but she COULD be hurt. Then there were all the people of her own social standing who would voice their opinions on the match she had made for herself. She might say that she didn't care what other people thought, and he knew that she would loyally defend him, but she would undoubtedly feel pressure.

He had suddenly wondered what her parents would make of this legal union. From her written correspondence, which Phryne was in the habit of reading to him over breakfast, he had gleaned that her mother was a woman with whom he would likely get along quite well. She certainly seemed a slightly gentler woman than her sister, Prudence. Phryne's father never wrote, but from her own descriptions of him, and from what Jack knew of her childhood treatment at his hands, it was clear that the relationship between the two of them was at its best when they were at arm's length.

To Jack, the idea of marrying Phryne had always been fantasy, at best. So, he had never given any thought to what their wedding might be like if they were married. She might be a grown woman, but technically speaking, as long as she remained a spinster and her father lived, he was still responsible for her. Jack had certainly never considered that the Fishers might want their daughter to be married from their own home in Kent. Would Phryne want that, or agree to that? Or would she be happy for Mrs Stanley to represent her parents' interests? If that happened, he could only imagine what that lady's input might be.

For one thing, she was a devout woman. The church did not condone divorce, let alone re-marriage, but he was quite sure that Mrs Stanley would have no issue with applying the pressure (probably involving financial incentive) required to effect a religious ceremony. It wasn't unheard of; it just seemed to be one of those things that the wealthy did.

Unlike some of his compatriots who had found their faith during the war, Jack had lost his. Well, not entirely...but for him, since his return, church had only been a socially necessary interlude in which to reflect on his past and current life...or Shakespeare. To Rosie's (and the rest of his family's) consternation, he would take any excuse to avoid it and head off to the station. When she had moved out, he had stopped going altogether, until he had accompanied Phryne, who rarely attended of her own volition. Her participation in religion was largely confined to weddings, funerals, and, if pressed (usually by Aunt P), special services held by Jane's school. He had wondered how she might feel about being married in church; probably rather amused – after all, she might be a spinster, but she certainly wasn't a blushing virgin.

But he was sure that religion wouldn't be Mrs Stanley's only contribution to their nuptials. Phryne was the daughter of a baronet, and as her aunt had no daughters of her own, he could only imagine the spectacle that awaited him. He had only attended one wedding with Phryne in the last year, and it had seemed a complicated nightmare of colour co-ordinated flowers and serviettes, a giant and rather ridiculous looking cake, eight bridesmaids, ice sculptures and lobsters, and enough white lace to build a carnival big top. And hundreds of people whom he didn't know, probably didn't want to know, and who probably didn't want to know him. It had been about as far removed as he could imagine from the ceremony and breakfast reception of his wedding to Rosie; but was this what his second wedding would be like?

That wedding of several months ago had been in Melbourne; what would his own be like if it were arranged by Phryne's parents in Kent? Or, he had thought with horror, London?

Oh. Good. God. He needed to stop thinking and clamp down on his rising panic. It was Phryne – he would do absolutely anything at all if it meant that they would be husband and wife. He would row to England if he had to…

Just then Phryne had sighed deeply, and his earlier anxiety had immediately returned. She had changed her mind, realised her mistake. It was his desperate love for her that had had him decided – if she wanted to renege then he would let her, without any fuss, and he wouldn't hold it against her. They could move on; there was no point in prolonging her pain…

"What is it, Phryne?"

She had rolled over to meet his eyes with a grieved look on her face.

"Well, now that you've said 'yes'… I was just wondering… How on earth am I going to explain to Aunt P that the LAST thing I want is a huge society wedding?"

Jack had closed his eyes and laughed with relief, for more than one reason. Phryne had given his shoulder a rather firm nudge, and demanded "What are you laughing at?... You'll be there when I tell her…"

That had sobered him up immediately, but then he had snorted, and said "I'm pretty sure someone will be murdered that day… even if I have to do it myself…"

"Jack!" All right, he had probably deserved that punch, but his mood had been considerably lightened.

"Soooo… you still want to marry me?"

"What? Of course!... Awww, Jack," she had snuggled up close to him, "IF I change my mind I'll let you know… but I'm sure I won't…" and she had begun to kiss him in a way that brooked absolutely no argument.

Later, over breakfast, she had resumed her earlier topic with emphatic waves of her toast. "…all those people… WHO to invite will be a nightmare in itself… Then there's choosing a venue… Tableware… Food… Cake… Music… Flowers… What to wear… She'll probably do her best to convince me into something white and lacy. Hah! Can you imagine?"

"I… hadn't really thought about it…"

She had given him a sly look. "Is that so, Pinocchio?" and he hadn't been able to help the sheepish grin that had formed on his face.

"THEN, there's the fact that my parents might want to make an appearance…" A look of horror had crossed her face. "Now I understand exactly why some people choose to elope."

Their eyes had met, and they had both had the thought at the exact same moment, but she had been first to speak. "Perhaps… we could keep all this a secret?"

On the one hand, he had wanted to tell the entire world that Phryne wanted to marry him. On the other, given the anxieties each of them was having in regard to the event (and, of course, the lead-up), maybe that wasn't such a bad idea. It would also leave them with a lot less explaining to do if Phryne did decide to pull out. "Maybe we can keep it to ourselves for now, and if we change our minds…"

Without an engagement ring to hide, it had actually been remarkably easy. In Phryne's usual style, once the decision was made she had wanted immediate action. They had aimed for a date approximately six weeks later, which had allowed plenty of time for her solicitor to prepare a sheaf of legal documentation that Phryne felt ought to be ready prior to the date, a licence to be obtained, new clothing to be purchased, and Phryne's ring to be made.

Again, being Phryne, it was not going to be a stock-standard plain gold band; there were very specific requirements that had to be met. Firstly, she didn't see any point in having an engagement ring when she had been the one to ask for Jack's hand, so this ring would definitely contain sparkles. That being said, she had wanted it to be flat enough to be worn at all times under her gloves. And, due to her non-conventional activities, she also felt that it should be hard-wearing.

They had spent a night discussing it and drawing their ideas (the rejected ones immediately thrown on the fire so that they could not be discovered), and she had finally settled on a wide filigree band of white gold, diamonds inset to lie flat around the entire circumference, so that no matter how it was turned, its appearance was always the same. Her favourite jeweller had been commissioned and had assured her of his absolute discretion. The cost? Well, it had certainly induced a cold sweat in Jack; and that was before the ring had been made. When it was finished, Phryne had outright refused to try it on; given her past history with the jeweller she was confident of the fit, and instead had passed it immediately to Jack to 'keep in custody'. He had spent an extremely edgy eight days wearing rocks that would buy a small house on a chain around his neck. And if his colleagues had noticed that he had suddenly developed a nervous habit of touching his tie, none of them said a word (not even Hugh).

The two of them had thought long and hard over what to do for their honeymoon, and eventually settled on nothing at all; well, not nothing, but not a great deal. Most people were given a month's leave for a honeymoon, but most people only married once. If life was fair, perhaps Jack might have been due his long service leave several years before; after all, he had worked for the Victorian Constabulary for more than the requisite ten years. However, his employment had been interrupted by a pesky thing called a war, and government bureaucracy dictated that the ten years must be continuous. After all, laws were still to be kept, and there were men (such as George Sanderson) who had never enlisted, and did work continuously for those years that Jack had been fighting for his country and the Empire. He had therefore only become eligible last year, but at the time he and Phryne had been content to put it off (to his superior's annoyance – who didn't take their leave when it was due?). And, truth be told, as much as he had loved the idea of spending three months with her but not working with her, he had also been terrified that doing so might bring their relationship to grief; that she might decide she'd had TOO much of him.

Phryne pointed out that as money was no object, with three months up his sleeve they could do anything, or go anywhere, that he pleased. They had debated the subject and finally decided that they would prefer to use his leave to travel to England and France (as a minimum) sometime in the next year, with more time to prepare. 1931 would be Jane's final year at school, and she would probably welcome the opportunity to travel, with the two of them, before embarking on her university studies. Also, as they were to be married in secret, it seemed only fair that they make themselves available to family and friends in the aftermath. So it was that they had decided that Jack would take only a Friday and Saturday, so that they could have three days together in which to do nothing at all (or… whatever they pleased). Their 'appointment' at the Registry Office was for 11:15 am, so they would check in at the Windsor early that morning, spend the night, and return home (no doubt after a late lie-in) to share their news on the Saturday. IF Aunt Prudence had not let the cat out of the bag before they arrived...

Aunt P had had no idea that she was going to be one of the witnesses to their marriage; well, that had been the plan. Phryne's solicitor, Felix (yes, he was a friend she had known in London, but no, she hadn't KNOWN him), was to be the other witness. If things went awry, and Mrs Stanley refused, then the partner in his firm would be on standby to step in as the second. But Phryne had desperately hoped that her aunt would not make a fuss (too much of a fuss anyway, as no fuss at all was unlikely); if she only found out on the morning in question, she would not have the opportunity…

That morning was now here.

xoxox