Chapter Summary: A wedding. And a wedding night.
(A/N - I am invoking the rule my married characters live by - Rule #86 - "No explicit sex, please; we're British". There is still an epilouge and then this not-so-little story comes to a close. Thanks to everyone who has been reading and commenting - your comments help my writing and your kind words lift my spirits.)
Raoul paced nervously at the bottom of the staircase. He tugged at the cuffs of his sleeves, straightening what did not need to be straightened. He pulled at the collar of his shirt; it felt like it was choking him. It had to be for he could not breathe and there was no other reason for such a feeling. He paced back and forth, pulling out his gold pocket watch to check the time. Raoul watched as the second hand ticked away moving the minute hand that moved the hour hand all of which were moving his life forward to a moment he had been dreading for eighteen years. He put his hands on the highly polished banister, sighed and closed his eyes, watching her life play on his eyelids.
The red and gold of autumn leaves danced in the sunlight like precious jewels but could not begin to compare to the precious jewel he held in his arms. She had her mother's eyes and he felt himself lost in their depths.
She was dancing around the stables, giggling with glee, as he presented her with a soft brown pony as her birthday gift the day she turned six.
She was eleven and at that awkward stage between childhood and adolescence. She stood at the barre behind her mother, mirroring the structured ballet movements, struggling to be graceful.
She was fifteen and the promise of the beauty that she would be was becoming more evident with each passing day. He could hear her brothers telling her what she should and should not do while she tried unsuccessfully to stifle her giggles.
She was seventeen and she and her joyous spirit had been ripped from their lives. And she had come back, broken and scarred, looking to him to help restore her spirit.
She had just turned eighteen and was holding to the banister of the grand staircase, too frightened to return to her bedroom and too frightened to go down the stairs. She had clung to his arm and her smile as the rest of the family found her at the breakfast table gladdened his heart.
She was eighteen and flinging her arms around the neck of the young man who knelt in the snow at her feet. She had come to him, asking for simplicity, worried that her parents would be disappointed for she did not share their vision of her future.
She was eighteen and the only disappointment he felt was the fact that he had to let her go. Yet he could let her go for she was going to a strong, capable man who would always place her first and who loved her as much as she loved him. He could not have let her go to a lesser man.
Raoul blew out a long breath, trying to calm his racing heart and thoughts.
"Surely that is not because of me," a dearly loved voice said.
Raoul raised his head and turned to look at the top of the stairs, his very life stopping as he saw his daughter.
Annalise stood on the second floor landing, smiling down at him, radiant and happy. She was a vision in her ivory gown, its high neck and long sleeves modest and appropriate for the ceremony that waited. Raoul smiled as he took note of the blue sash about her waist, the tiny blue crystals flashing in the lace at her neck and wrists and studding the ivory lace of her skirt. He knew that blue was Andrew's favorite color to see her in and thought it just like his daughter to do something so thoughtful for the man she was about to marry. Her dark curls were drawn up to the top of her head and cascaded down her back and over the floral wreath that nestled in them. A simple lace veil fluttered in the breeze from an open window as Annalise descended the stairs, reaching for the hands that Raoul extended.
"Say something," Annalise said as she took note of the tears in her father's eyes.
"My little girl is gone," Raoul had to admit. "She has been replaced by an incredibly brave young woman who stands at the threshold of her new life." He took back one of his hands to caress his daughter's cheek. "She is a young woman I am proud to call my daughter."
"Papa," Annalise replied as she drew her father close, kissing his cheek. "I shall always be your little girl," she whispered.
Raoul let out an uneven breath as he drew back, letting go of his daughter's hands. "I have one last gift for you before we must leave." He left Annalise at the bottom of the stairs to reach for something on a table tucked behind the curve of the staircase.
"What?" Annalise asked, her brow furrowed.
Raoul came back with a bouquet in his hands. It was small by the standards of what other Society girls were carrying that year - a dozen hot house ivory roses surrounded by daisies, Baby's Breath and blue Forget-me-not's. Blue and ivory ribbons draped down from the handle of the bouquet, ivory lace encompassing the round arrangement. But it was the single red rose in the midst of the bouquet that caught Annalise's eye. She fingered it lightly as Raoul handed her the flowers.
"I did that," he said gently and smiled at his daughter's puzzled look. "If it had not been for him, today might never have happened. He deserves to be honored and to share in your joy."
"Thank you," Annalise said, her eyes moist and glistening. "I love you."
"I love you," Raoul returned. "I think we must go, though, before we shed any more tears or are late." He smiled. "I should hate to keep Andrew waiting; I shudder to think what he might to do me."
Annalise laughed as she took her father's arm, allowing him to lead her through the front door. "He would not dare!" She followed her father, clinging to his arm, smiling as she saw Regine waiting by the side of the open chaise, Diana and Mercury waiting patiently almost as if they knew the day was something special. Annalise let go of her father's arm so that she could kiss Regine on the cheek. "Thank you," she told him.
Regine nodded a broad smile on his face. "You are welcome, Mademoiselle and may I say that you look very lovely."
"You may and thank you." Annalise walked to the front of the chaise and ran her hand down the foreheads of both horses. "And thank you," she whispered to them. She walked back to her father. "I am ready."
Raoul and Regine handed her into the flower bedecked chaise and followed her, Raoul sitting next to his daughter, taking her hands. Regine sat in front of them, taking the reins and gently tapping the backs of the horses, guiding the carriage towards the small village wherein one Monsieur Pfieffer guided his flock and waited to perform a wedding ceremony.
The marriage banns had been called at Notre Dame during January, February and March as was required by church law; Notre Dame being the home parish for Raoul and Christine's family. Yet Annalise had been hesitant to marry there, unsure of her returning confidence in front of all Paris society, unwilling to hear their whispered comments. She had fretted that her parents would not understand her wish for a small wedding with just family and close friends in attendance. Annalise had worried for naught. Christine had eagerly assisted her only daughter in the planning of a small wedding, the buying of a trousseau, the housing arrangements for guests coming from across the sea. Raoul had chased away the last of his daughter's doubts with an early wedding gift - he had gifted Andrew and Annalise with the deed to Tout Ce Qui Est, the family's small country estate. Andrew, who had grown up on a working farm, and Annalise, who was so intrigued by the art of wine-making, had a place to call their own and a start to building their lives together. Now those lives were about to begin in the small village that the couple would call home.
Regine stopped the horses in front of the white church that held a prominent place on the village green. Local villagers milled about, waiting to see a glimpse of people who would not normally spend the time to even stop in their small village. They waited to see a glimpse of the bride and clapped and threw petals as Raoul helped his daughter from the chaise. Annalise blushed and smiled at the villagers, her heart so full she thought it would burst from the sheer happiness she felt all around her. Annalise took her father's arm, smiled up at him and walked to the door of the church where Katherine waited patiently.
"You look so lovely," Katherine said and turned to place her hand on the door handle.
Annalise turned to her father. "Can you place my veil, please?"
Raoul reached behind his daughter's head and held the veil for a moment. "If you are unsure or do not wish to do this, just say the word and I shall have Regine take you home."
"I am a bit nervous but Maman says that is natural," Annalise said with a soft smile. "I am ready. I have been ready for the last six months."
Raoul kissed his daughter's cheek before drawing the veil over her head. "Then let us go and find your," he faltered for a moment, "husband."
"Always your little girl," Annalise whispered to him as they followed Katherine into the open church, Regine closing the doors softly behind them.
The small church was glowing from warm May sunlight that filtered in through stained glass windows. It gave jeweled sparkles to the white flowers that seemed to decorate every free space. It danced off the bright colors of the dresses and waistcoats of the guests. It seemed to give a halo to the blonde head of the man waiting at the altar, Annalise's brother standing next to him. Annalise and Andrew had decided to ask the two people they loved, who had shared their nightmare, to witness the moment when the nightmare was laid to rest; Gustave and Katherine had eagerly accepted. Now Annalise stood in the vestibule, listening as the organ music began. Once again she turned to her father.
"Ave Maria?" she asked. "It is one of my favorites but that is not the music that Maman and I chose."
"It is a gift," her father replied and patted her hand, his smile slightly mysterious. "I believe we must go."
Katherine opened the doors to the sanctuary and began the slow walk down the center aisle. Annalise looked around at the congregation, finding faces of new family and old friends on both sides. She saw her brothers and their wives and gave them a broad smile. Her smile softened as she saw her mother, the tears already tracing down Christine's cheeks. Annalise looked towards the organ that nestled in a niche near the main altar, the church being too small to accommodate a choir loft. Her eyes widened and her lips formed an "O" as she saw Erik at the organ.
"It is a gift," Raoul whispered again, "to honor him and allow him to share your joy." He began to lead his daughter down the aisle. He could feel the moment, though, when she truly moved away from him. The moment when her breath stopped, her eyes meeting the eyes of the man waiting for her by the altar, their smiles radiant and warm. Raoul stopped at the front pew, allowing Christine to embrace her daughter before walking the remaining few feet to the altar. He could remember little but the feel of his wife by his side after placing his daughter's hand into the hand of the man with whom she would spend the rest of her life.
The rest of the morning and early afternoon passed in a blur for Annalise and Andrew. They would remember little of the actual wedding ceremony except for the glowing eyes of the person in front of them. Annalise would remember the strength of Andrew's arm about her as they rode back to their new home to receive their guests and celebrate their happiness. Andrew would remember the softness of her hand in his as they stood greeting guest after guest. Annalise would remember the feel of her father's arms about her as they shared a dance courtesy of violinists from the new opera house in Paris. Andrew would remember the gracious and truly kind way his family received his new wife. Annalise would remember dancing in Erik's arms, feeling safe and warm in them and watching as her father broke in, taking her hands and giving her mother into Erik's. It was a moment that could not have happened without her, her father had said as they watched two angels dancing in the spring garden. Andrew would remember the envelope Erik had pressed into his hand and the lecture Erik gave him regarding Annalise's comfort that night, the threat not subtle or veiled. Annalise would remember the gentle words of her mother regarding her comfort that night. Andrew would remember the lectures from all the males who loved Annalise regarding her comfort that night.
Finally Andrew and Annalise were waving goodbye to everyone and climbing into a coach piled with luggage. They were going away for a month to a place that would be a surprise to Annalise but not to her new husband. Christine would spend the month in the country with Great-aunt Adele readying the home for its new owners while Raoul returned to Paris during the week and came to the country on the weekends. As for Erik, that would be something that Annalise would discover from the letter that had been placed into Andrew's hands. At the moment, though, she was just content to settle into her new husband's side, her head on his shoulder and watch as the beauty of the Loire Valley passed outside the coach's windows. Two hours later the coach turned down a lane and Annalise sat up as she heard the sound of running, churning water. Andrew smiled at her as the coach stopped and he got out, his hand extended to help her.
"The watermill!" Annalise exclaimed as she looked around. Her gaze returned to her husband. "How ...?"
"Your father told me how much you loved to visit here when you were small," Andrew said and placed his hand against her cheek. "I used some of my trust fund to purchase it for you," he corrected himself, "for us and I had a wonderful architect working here since January to ready it for this moment." He swept his giggling wife into his arms and walked her through the open door. Andrew let Annalise down and drew her into his arms. "Welcome to your honeymoon castle, Madame Cameron."
Annalise sighed. "Madame Cameron," she smiled and kissed her husband. "How lovely that sounds."
"Madame Cameron," Annalise whispered to the reflection in the mirror later that night, "is very nervous." She looked down at her shaking hands and clasped them tightly. She jumped at the sound of the knock on the bedroom door. She stood on shaky legs and called out. "Come." Annalise watched as the door opened and Andrew entered the room.
"Oh my," was all Andrew could say as he saw his bride standing before him, dark curls cascading about her shoulders, dressed in blue lace that gave tempting hints of what lay beneath.
"Andrew," Annalise said in a shaky voice as she extended her hands.
Andrew crossed to her side, drawing her close, feeling her tense up. He drew back, a puzzled look on his face. "What is wrong?" he wondered.
"I ...," Annalise began and stopped, shaking her head.
Andrew kept hold of her hands and led her to the padded bench at the end of the bed. "You can tell me anything," he said softly as they sat together. There was no answer. Andrew reached into the pocket of his robe and placed a sealed envelope into his wife's hands. "Read this," he told her.
"My Dearest Little Angel," the letter began. "I hope the watermill finds favor with you for I have worked very diligently in the hopes of making it the embodiment of your dreams. I wished you to begin your new life on a cloud of hope for that is what I shall do. Now that I know you are in the arms of one who will love and keep you safe, I can begin my own new life. By the time you read this, I shall have left to see the world, Tomas by my side. Together we shall explore and experience things the like of which each of us has only dreamt. Your new husband has promised to keep the monastery ready for us for I shall return someday with tales to enchant the children I know will be playing at your feet. Godspeed in your new life, dearest Annalise, may you know no further sorrow. My soul and my heart shall always think of you. Love, Erik."
"He's gone," Annalise said in a sorrowful tone as she ran fingers over the elegant script.
"He will be back. He promised," Andrew told her as he laid a hand over hers. He felt her jump and pull away from him. Andrew took his hands back. "Annalise, look at me." He waited as she raised frightened eyes to his face; Andrew could feel his heart sink. "We do not need to do anything you do not wish to do," he said gently. He watched as Annalise's bottom lip trembled and he sighed. "I will sleep in the other room until you are comfortable having me close by."
"No," Annalise replied in a fierce tone, her hand reaching out to encircle Andrew's wrist. "Please do not go."
"I will not go," Andrew replied and watched as Annalise lowered her head and took back her hand. "What is it?" he wondered
Annalise looked at him from beneath her lashes. "I need to tell you something and you must promise me you will listen to what I have to say." She watched as he nodded and Annalise lowered her eyes so that she was not looking at her new husband. "When Michaud," she paused and started again. "When he had me," Annalise shook her head. "Oh God, I have never said these things to anyone else." She was grateful that Andrew sat still and quiet next to her. "When he had me, he tried to force me to ... he put his hands on my chest and his knee between my thighs and I did not know what to do. I would try to fight back but then he became angry and would tie my hands so I could not. He drugged me so I would sleep and when I awoke I would find him lying next to me, his hands on my chest, my hips, my legs..." She sniffled back tears. "I would try to kick him and that is when he began to bind my ankles, as well. I was left with no recourse and he could do what he wished." She bit her lip and looked at Andrew. "His actions hurt so much because I thought I was in love with him even if he knew I was in love with you." Annalise watched as her husband turned his head. "Oh God," she whispered. "He was right. He said you would not want another man's castoff. I tried to give him what he wanted so that the beatings would stop." She bit back a sob. "I have ruined everything."
There was a long silence before Andrew spoke. "Is that what you think?" he asked her. "Annalise, is it?"
"Yes," she whispered. "I knew you would not want me if I told you and I should have told you these things sooner. I should have told you before we spoke our vows before God. I was just so frightened."
"Do not want you?" Andrew laughed and Annalise raised a tear-streaked face to him. "I want you so much it hurts! There has not been a day that has passed since the first moment I saw you that I have not longed to have you in my arms. I will admit that, at first, it was because you were so pretty and vivacious." He reached in for her hands and was relieved when she did not pull away from him. "But that changed over time as I grew to know you. I began to fall in love with an intelligent spirited woman and my feelings for you have only deepened as I watched your strength and courage over these last months. You are an incredible woman and I cannot believe you love me."
"Truly?" Annalise asked and shook her head. "I am not a naive little girl any longer and I know I am not first woman you have been with." Annalise blushed and lowered her eyes. "I do not want to be a disappointment to you."
"My silly, beloved wife," Andrew's voice was tender as he ran a finger lightly down Annalise's nose. "I would so much rather you were the last than the first." He brushed away her tears, his hands lingering to hold her face. "What Michaud said to you, what he did, what you did, none of that matters. None of it has ever mattered. All that matters is you and the love I feel for you. You could never disappointment me." He laughed again, this time gently. "And to think I was worried about what you would think of me!"
Now it was Annalise's turn to laugh softly. "I think we are both very silly." She grew serious. "Andrew, I do love you and I do want you. I want to know what it is to be loved and desired for the person I am and not the conquest I could be. I want you to help me forget his words, his touch." She reached up hands to hold the ones that wrapped her face in such warmth. "I want you."
Andrew hesitated for a moment. "I should tell you that every male member of both our families gave me a lecture regarding your happiness this night. Even Erik lectured me; although I had heard his lecture before." He shook his head at the puzzled look in his wife's eyes. "I will tell you someday," he promised. "Are you sure?" He felt the head in his hands nod its assent. "Then we shall take this slowly. If you ever want to stop, just say the word and we shall stop."
"But what about you?" Annalise had listened to her mother and had heard just enough gossip to know that it could hurt Andrew if they were to stop.
"I do not matter," Andrew said as he took her hands and stood. "You are the only thing in this world that matters tonight." He gave a gentle tug on her hands. "Come," he told her and led Annalise to stand in the moonlight that poured in through the window.
"Why?" Annalise wondered. She could feel her knees shake as she looked at the fire that burned in her husband's eyes.
"I want to see you in the moonlight," Andrew told her, his hands reaching for the ribbon that held her dressing gown closed. "Do you want me to stop?" he asked and watched as Annalise shook her head. He gently untied the ribbons of her gown and heard the intake of breath as his hands reached up to slip the gown from his wife's shoulders, his hands running down her bare arms to reclaim her hands. He guided her hands to the sash that secured his own robe. "Your turn," Andrew said.
Annalise swallowed hard, her fingers shaking as she undid the sash, mirroring Andrew's actions, her hands going to his shoulders and slipping the robe from his body. "Oh," Annalise said as she laid a hand against his bare chest, feeling his heart pound.
Andrew clasped the hand that rested against his skin, setting it on fire. He reached in for a kiss that was soft at first but grew in intensity. His other hand reached for a shoulder of the lace chemise his wife wore. He felt her stiffen and he drew back. "Do you want to stop?" he wondered and held his breath.
"No," Annalise breathed, taking his hands and placing them on the shoulders of her chemise. "No," she repeated and locked her eyes with his, as she felt the lace began to fall from her shoulders. Annalise felt the chill of the night air as the chemise fell completely away from her body to pool in a blue puddle around her feet.
"Oh Lord," Andrew breathed as he looked at his wife standing in the gleam of the moon, her skin glowing silver from its light.
"Oh no," Annalise cried softly as she closed her eyes "He was right." She felt a hand on her face.
"Look at me," Andrew insisted and waited until Annalise opened her eyes to look at him, uncertainty warring with desire in their blue depths. "You are more beautiful than I could have ever imagined." He gently rested his other hand on the curve of her waist, his thumb caressing the skin of her abdomen. "You are perfect and beautiful and I love you and want you so badly I think I may die from the intensity of my need."
Annalise could feel her knees giving way. "Then love me, Andrew," she told him and felt as he scooped her into his arms, walking over to the bed and gently laying her down. She looked up at him with glowing eyes. "Just love me," she repeated in a whispery voice, her arms reaching out and drawing him close.
Later, as his need was released, Andrew collapsed against his bride's shoulder, her name on his lips. He buried his face in her hair, struggling to find his way back to earth. He could feel Annalise breathing heavily beneath him. He also felt something wet against his cheek that quickly returned him to his senses. Andrew lifted himself up on his elbows and looked down at Annalise's face, horrified to find tears running down her cheeks. "Oh God," he breathed. "What have I done?" He reached in to place a gentle kiss on her lips. "Annalise, I am so sorry. I should have stopped. I should have..." Andrew's words were stopped by the firm kiss planted on his lips, the hands that reached up to cup his face.
"Je t'adore," Annalise whispered as she kissed one of Andrew's eyes. "Je t'adore," she kissed the other eye and ran a finger down Andrew's nose. "My silly beloved husband." She kissed him again on the lips. "I love you," she whispered against them and Annalise drew back to look at Andrew. There was a familiar sparkle in her eyes, a sparkle that had long been absent. "He was wrong," Annalise said and bit back a cry. "He was wrong," she repeated. "I am beautiful and I am desired and I am loved."
"Je t'aime," Andrew whispered against his wife's lips as he kissed her and rested his cheek against hers before rolling to his back and bringing Annalise with him. He waited as Annalise settled her head against his beating heart, her legs entwining with his, before drawing the summer linens up around them. Andrew wrapped his arms about his wife, kissing the top of her head. "I will love you till the end of time," he said quietly.
Annalise sighed, feeling a happy lethargy begin to take control of her mind and body. "Then we will find the end of time together for that is how long I shall love you." She could no longer keep her eyes open. "My silly," Annalise yawned and rubbed her head against Andrew's chest, "beloved husband."
Andrew could feel the even breathing of the woman in his arms and knew that Annalise had fallen asleep. He stared at her, wondering what he had done so right in his life to have this miracle in his arms. He was not sure that he wanted the answer so he just tightened his grip on his wife and kissed her as she sighed happily in her sleep. He rested his head against hers. "I do love you so," Andrew's last whispered words and last thought before he succumbed to the sleep waiting for him.