When the three Kempell sisters were sent to London for the season, they had brought a letter to their brother Henrik from their father where Henrik was asked to decide if any suitor that might be interested in Celia or Christin was a good match and should be given permission to marry the girl in question. Henrik knew the people in London, and their father had been away for such a long time.
Their father had not written anything about suitors to Elizabeth - the thought that she might get any had obviously never crossed his mind.
...
Jonathan never asked her family's permission to marry Elizabeth. He couldn't really ask her father, who was so far away, but there was also nothing in the law to say the father had to be consulted. Elizabeth was of age and had the right to marry anyone she choose, so he only found it necessary to ask her. When she had accepted his proposal they only told her relatives that they were engaged.
This was a time when a marriage was looked upon as a business transaction, but Jonathan didn't look at it like that. He didn't need any money, he had more than enough for both of them, he didn't care about any settlements or such things. Locksley was entailed, and in case Sir Jonathan died without a son it would probably go to some distant relative he didn't even know of, if there even was one. But the house in London was his own, together with enough income for Elizabeth and any daughters they might get to live a comfortable life if he would die before her. So if Elizabeth's parents wanted to give her any money, it was up to them, and it would remain her money. All he wanted was Elizabeth's sweet self, and the only person that he thought had the right to give him that was Elizabeth herself.
He loved her, he belonged to her, she loved him, she belonged to him. It was for the two of them to decide if they should marry, no one else had the right to have any say in that.
But Henrik was afraid that his father might be offended by Sir Jonathan's attitude. So Henrik sent his father a telegram telling him that Sir Jonathan was a good man, and probably didn't mean this as a slight. His father had known the older Strallan, Jonathan's father Sir Philip, and agreed that they were good people. And he knew that Sir Philip only had this one son, so Jonathan had inherited both Locksley and the title and also a house in London, if he remembered it correctly. He couldn't wish for a better husband for his eldest daughter, especially since he had never had enough imagination to think that she would ever have any husband at all.
So Elizabeth's parents sent a telegram to Sir Jonathan with a whole-hearted blessing to the marriage, welcoming their future son-in-law into their family.
...
There was so much to do before the wedding, but they still kept seeing and kissing each other every day. The only exception was when Sir Jonathan went back to Locksley for a little more than a week to take care of estate business. He had lingered longer in London than he had intended already, and he would stay away from Locksley for more than a month again after this visit, the two weeks before the wedding and three weeks of honeymoon in Paris.
Elizabeth missed him so very much while he was away. She had got used to being kissed and fondled every day, and was really suffering from going without it. She was surprised about her own strong reaction, she felt so very incomplete without him.
When they were alone in his library again for the first time after his return, she kissed him with a hunger he hadn't seen in her before. He had missed her very much also, so he answered her in the same way, holding her hard and as close to his body as her crinoline would allow.
They were kissing each other, almost desperately, blending their tongues and mouths. After a while he squeezed his hands in between them, first one and then the other, and started fondling her breasts. She was clinging to him, her mouth against his mouth, her arms around his neck. She was breathing heavily, enjoying his hands on her breasts, and oh god was she enticing. He was fondling her through her clothing, but he felt he wanted more. He longed to feel her naked skin under his hands and her naked nipples against his palms.
Instinctively his hands started unbuttoning her dress.
...
When she felt his hands opening the first button on her dress, she knew she was done for. Her head was a little clearer now that he had stopped fondling her breasts, but she knew it wouldn't help. She wouldn't be able to deny him anything. As soon as he put his arms around her or his lips on hers, she was under his spell. It happened every time, and she was well aware of it by now.
Was it her lack of experience that made it so utterly impossible to say no to him? She had grown to a man's height at almost the same time as she had got a woman's body. No one had ever chased after her, she had never had the chance to get used to fend off boys' hands in a friendly way. The only male hands she had ever felt on her body was his.
She knew it would really be easy to stop him. All she had to do was to move his hands away with a laugh, and she knew he would never insist. But she just couldn't do it. There was something very irrational deep down in her that feared that he would leave her if she didn't let him have his way. And something in her that wanted him, wanted everything he was willing to give her, in a very physical way.
It was ridiculous really, she never had any problems being an independent woman, even in dealing with him. In all other aspects except this.
She felt his hand against her naked skin, just below her throat, just above her breasts, caressing her softly and very tenderly. They had stopped kissing each other now, he just looked into her eyes tentatively. She wondered if he could see the panic that was mingled with the desire she was feeling...
...
But he stopped himself.
He was almost sure he could have had her there, she probably wouldn't have objected. But he didn't want to take her. Because he could see her alone in her bed that night, back at Henrik's place, regretting it all. Feeling taken advantage of and fearing that he would look down on her. Scared that he wouldn't want her anymore, after he had had his way with her.
He wanted her first time to be good, their first time. He wanted it as good as it could possibly be. He wanted it to be in a bed, not on a library floor or a sofa. He wanted it to be a real wedding night, so he would be able to stay with her afterwards, to see that she was OK. He wanted to be able to sleep with her, quite literally.
"In two weeks we will be married", he whispered in her ear while he fastened her buttons again. "That will be awesome!"
...
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