Speak For Me

If anyone thought the marriage of le Vicomte and his bride to be food for gossip, certainly no one ever doubted the depth of their love for one another. It was evident in the matching expressions of joy etched on their faces as they stood before God and family to vow their love.

Meg wore an exquisite gown of white trimmed in beads and lace, and a smile meant solely for Raoul. He stood in awe of her, drinking in the sight, memorizing the moment to keep with him for all his days. He had dressed in his finest morning suit, his hair tied back, and his own expression one of such open adoration that it was clear to all that the new Vicomtess would never want for anything.

The reception that followed at the de Chagny estate was a rather strange mix of aristocracy and actors. Ballerinas danced with barons, tenors and dukes traded tales of their various…conquests, and generally so much merriment was made that there was little room for gossip. With wine in abundance, no one but Antoinette Giry, who was dancing in the arms of Francois LeCleur, even seemed to notice when Raoul swept his new bride into his arms and the couple disappeared up the grand staircase.

xXx

Raoul and Meg had slipped away from the reception after dancing several dances as husband and wife. But one dance tempted them beyond any other, and they were finally free to claim it. The decision to slip away had been a silent one, each somehow knowing the other was intending the same thing. Raoul had simply taken his wife's hand and led her upstairs. Only when they were alone in the hallway did they surrender to their darker desires, their kiss promising the union that they had both denied themselves for so long.

Raoul lifted Meg easily into his arms, carrying her the remaining steps to their chamber. They never broke contact as he set her carefully down and reached blindly for the door. His fingers tripped over the knob slightly as Meg's little hands found their way under his waistcoat. Finally, the door gave and he backed his wife into the room.

His wife.

He broke their kiss and looked at her with a boyish grin lighting his face. Meg grinned back, then she began to tug his cravat loose. Her breathless voice held a trace of humor. "Raoul, we really shouldn't have snuck away. People will talk."

He shucked his coat. "Mmm…yes. They will say what a lucky man I am to have such a beautiful wife."

She worked open the buttons of his vest with trembling fingers. "Perhaps they will think I am the lucky one to have such a rich, handsome husband."

Raoul raised his brows. "Rich? So you have married me for my money, then?"

Meg caressed his handsome cheek, her eyes growing serious for a moment. "No, my love." Then she smiled wickedly, suddenly teasing again. "I have most definitely married you entirely for your body."

He paused a second at her saucy words, then laughed, saying a silent prayer that this amazing woman was his. He pulled her back into the circle of his arms. "Ahh, then I shall certainly oblige you, sweet Meg."

And so he did. He kissed his wife thoroughly, then turned her slowly to unbutton the tiny fastenings of her gown. The material loosened and he pressed a kiss to her shoulder, whispering, "I love you."

Meg smiled softly, shivering in anticipation. "And I love you, Monsieur le Vicomte."

Raoul grinned again. "Now is certainly not the time for formality, Madame Vicomtess."

Meg let her gown drop away and turned, standing before him in her corset and undergarments. Despite the blush that was deepening on her cheeks, she smiled and looped her arms around Raoul's neck. "Then we must endeavor to become more…familiar…with one another."

Pulling his head down, she kissed him, welcoming her husband with open arms. Somewhere in the midst of feather touches and whispers of need, the last barriers between them fell away. Raoul took great pleasure in removing the pins from Meg's hair, combing his fingers through her golden curls. She took equal pleasure in ever so slowly pushing the material of his shirt away from his broad shoulders and placing a kiss to his chest.

They lovingly tarried over every little task, savoring each discovery until only one remained. Upon the elegant four poster bed, they stilled for one moment more to savor the beauty of their embrace. Their eyes met, their lips curved into nervous smiles, they whispered words of love, of desire, of promise and of certainty, and then there were no words at all. Only the sweet music of two hearts becoming one.

It was deep into the night before they finally drifted into blissful sleep, tangled together in dreams of love.

xXx

As the dawn kissed the horizon, Meg drifted awake with a most pleasant weight draped across her waist. Upon further discovery, she found it to be an arm. Details of the night before came filtering back into her conscious mind and she smiled dreamily, stretching experimentally, only to encounter a warm solid form at her back. Her husband. She sighed happily as she felt his lips press against her naked shoulder.

She turned slightly in his arms, a blush quickly spreading over her entire body at the memory of their lovemaking…and at the wicked urge to begin it all again. Raoul had been so tender with her the first time, even as he had struggled to contain his own urgent needs. But Meg had soon discovered her own needs matched his, and they had spent most of the night indulging in one another.

Raoul had cherished every moment. He had never dared dream that he could find such a woman as his Meg. He loved her so very much, and to wake with her in his arms had been a joy beyond any he had known before. She was, quite simply, perfect for him.

He grinned at her. "Good morning, wife."

Meg smiled, laughter dancing in her eyes. "Good morning, husband."

His grin turned slightly rakish. "What shall we do on our first day as husband and wife, sweet Meg?"

She shifted a little more until she was completely facing him. Raising an eyebrow at his suggestive tone, Meg teased him. "Perhaps we might return to the city…to stroll by the Seine? Or lunch at La Belle Etoile?"

He frowned in mock annoyance. "Surely you can think of a more…enjoyable endeavor."

Meg laughed. "I suppose I can think of one…"

She kissed him thoroughly, their playfulness giving way to passion once again. Their first day as husband and wife was spent in perfect, blissful contentment. Indeed, it was only for the sake of propriety that they emerged from their private haven at all that day. Propriety…and their need for sustenance.

Having missed breakfast, they sat for a late lunch, both fighting the heated blushes that were to be expected of a newly married couple thrust back into proper society after having been lost in abandon. Thankfully, the Comte and Comtess had left the young couple to their privacy.

A bit later, Philippe would share a brandy with his son and laughingly slap the boy on his back to congratulate him on a fine start to ensuring a de Chagny heir. And while Raoul had colored in embarrassment at his father's boldness, he could not stop the warmth of pleasure at the thought of such a thing.

A child with my eyes and Meg's smile, he had thought.

But there would be more than time enough to think on such things. Raoul meant to enjoy every moment with his wife, and indeed, he spent the rest of the evening doing precisely that.

A/N: I hope those of you eagerly awaiting this installment were not terribly disappointed. I confess I am not very good at love scenes, and I didn't want to venture beyond my T rating.

I am sad to say that only one chapter remains for our newlyweds.