White satin hung from a rod in the dressmaker's shop as lamplight stroked its radiant folds.
With eyes half closed, Jade stood in her petticoats, and stared at the luminous cloth while gnarled hands skimmed along her legs and tugged at her garments.
The dressmaker who was taking her measurements followed Jade's gaze, and smiled.
"It is a very fine fabric, Mademoiselle. Italian satin. Your future husband has chosen the best."
Lowering her eyes, Jade gazed at the gray head beside her. Utterly out of her element, she had become as docile as a child as the woman moved her about.
Finishing, the dressmaker straightened. Then she walked to a nearby table, and returned with something in her hand.
"Here is the lace that will be used for the trim," she stated with sparkling eyes.
Jade stretched out tentative fingers, and touched the delicate fabric. It was an open design using silk thread that was exceptionally soft for lacework. As the tips of her fingers brushed its surface, she was reminded of the beauty of snowflakes swirling from the night sky.
The woman nodded and said, "He instructed that it be soft…that everything in the gown be as soft as the froth on a wave." The old woman gazed into Jade's eyes with a dreamy, enchanted look that lightened her aged face.
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That evening, the black carriage stopped in front of Jean and Manette's apartment house, and Jade stepped out. After instructing the driver to wait, she walked through the pale lamplight to the door and knocked.
Jean opened it, and silently stared at her for a moment before giving her a fierce hug and dragging her inside.
"Manette, " he roared as he pulled Jade to the sofa. Once she was seated, he stood above her, and his flashing eyes raked her body. Abruptly, he sat down and grasped her hands.
"At last, you are here, " he declared with a husky voice. A moment later, Manette joined them.
She was in her fifth month of pregnancy with a pronounced belly. The loose fitting, green skirt that draped her new curve swished as she sped to the couch. As the two women embraced, Jean leaned back with his arms crossed behind his head, and grinned.
At supper, Manette and Jean filled Jade's ears with news about the opera house and their lives. There had been so many changes since she'd left! She leaned on the table and soaked it all in. And thankfully, her friends avoided asking her questions even though their eyes were sharp with curiosity.
After their meal, they sat next to the fire with Jean smoking his pipe and Manette and Jade stitching baby clothes.
Studying Manette, Jade noted her rosy cheeks, which matched her pretty bodice. She appeared content as she held her sewing on her belly. Occasionally, Jade stole secretive glances at that mysterious mound.
"Jade, your sewing is much quicker than before," Manette said as she watched her friend's needle fly. She was sewing twice as fast as Manette, and each stitch was neat and precise.
"Thank you. When I left the opera house I had a job as a seamstress, and that's how I've lived until the last few weeks."
Exchanging looks with Manette, Jean spoke. "You're thinner than when we saw you last. Were you comfortable there?" He asked gently.
With a sigh, Jade put down her sewing, and gazed at her friends who looked at her expectantly.
She told them about her life away from the opera house, and how much she had missed them and the Opera Populaire. She had managed to survive, and even save some money until discovering Gillian's death. Then her episode of melancholy had set in. The last week of her depression was a blur so she said little about it. Nor did she elaborate on that bleak, cold room and the weeks of intense loneliness that preceded her illness. There was no point in further disturbing her friends who anxiously hung on her words.
"We heard about the child's death in early January, " said Jean with his eyes tenderly fixed on hers.
Manette squeezed her hand, which she had been holding during her friend's story. "As soon as we heard the news, we were desperate to find you. We didn't want you to be alone when you found out." Her large eyes brimmed with tears as she gazed at Jade.
"Thank you," Jade replied softly. She emptily stared at the fire as she recalled the forlorn little cross in the cemetery that was Gillian's memorial.
"I wanted to keep working but unfortunately I let it all get the better of me. I don't remember much about that time except that I ate practically nothing." She pulled up her sleeve and showed them her thin arm. "I've gained some of it back but it's a slow process."
Remembering how emaciated she had looked only a few days before, she shivered. If Erik hadn't found me in time... Taking in a deep breath, she repeated her thoughts out loud.
"If it hadn't been for him finding me, I might not have survived."
"Him?" Jean asked.
Raising her eyes to his, Jade gazed at him steadily as she replied with a quiet, firm tone. "The man that I was hiding from, my benefactor, found me. He took me to his home, and nursed me back to health."
A heavy silence settled on them until Jean finally spoke.
"If I understand you correctly, the man who you were hiding from, who you thought would injure your friends, and who was therefore responsible for your predicament, he was the one who rescued you?"
His voice was thick with tension. Jade held his eyes with an unwavering gaze while her face remained calm.
"Yes Jean. He found me, and saved me."
She knew that her relationship with Erik would be difficult for them to understand. Jade had fled him and tried to protect her friends, and in the process, she'd made Erik out to be a dangerous character. It was expecting a lot for them to suddenly see him in a favorable light. However, she had to try to explain. She wanted her friends to accept her decision.
Jean stared at her hand, and then asked pointedly, "Is that his ring on your finger?"
The tone of his voice cut her. Nodding silently, she lowered her eyes.
"Oh, Jade dear," Manette suddenly cried as she squeezed her hand excitedly.
Manette's enthusiasm was encouraging. As Jade turned to her friend, she hoped that it would be contagious and turn Jean to their side.
By then, Jean was leaning back in his chair with a strange look on his face—one of annoyance, concern, and frustration. Finally, he spoke.
"You are an intelligent woman. What has changed your opinion of this man?"
What could she say to convince him? She had known women who had protected husbands who terrorized them, and she had regarded them as pitiful, trapped creatures. Would Jean think she had joined their ranks?
There was a definite risk to marrying Erik. He was an extremely complicated man, whose past was a mystery. On top of that, their wedding was approaching at break neck speed, and they had not yet spoken of his temper, or the music that he'd played on the night he'd driven her away.
It was one thing to be someone's mistress, and quite another to be bound to him for life in marriage. Jean's concern was reasonable.
Unconsciously, she touched the ring on her finger as she gazed at him earnestly. "Jean, I looked into his heart, and saw the love that was there. Once I recognized it, I knew that I would be safe with him."
After a few moments, he said slowly, "When are you to be married?"
She answered, "In three weeks time. I want you and Manette to come to our celebration." She turned to Manette who had a bright look on her face.
"Jade, you must allow me to lend you my veil. It belonged to Jean's mother."
Jade smiled. This was a piece of good fortune that she hadn't expected! Manette was a happily married woman, and her veil would bring good luck to her own marriage.
For the next hour, Manette and Jade discussed the wedding plans. Manette was thrilled when she discovered that Jade's wedding gown was being made by one of Paris's premiere shops.
Jean sat silently with his palms pressed together and his fingers touching his chin, as he watched the two women. Periodically Jade would glance in his direction to see if his somber expression had changed.
When it was time to leave, Manette gave her another warm hug, and then went upstairs to bed. Jean walked her to the carriage.
"Jade," he began, as he looked at her firmly. Then his stern expression softened as he took her hands. "Both Manette and I regard you as a sister. If for any reason you should need our assistance, we will do our best to help you. You have only to speak up, and tell us what you need."
Bending over, he whispered in her ear. "His reach may be long, but I have connections in England if you need them. You don't have to go through with this marriage if it you don't wish it."
She stared into his grim face, and then kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you Jean."
When the carriage pulled away, Jade watched the dark faced man who stood in the street, as he followed her departure with unhappy eyes.
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Erik stopped pacing, and looked up at the waxing moon. It was another cloudless night. Jade had promised to return by nine o'clock and the hour was drawing near. Restlessly, he stared at the street, and waited.
Earlier that day, he had watched her walk up that same street as she went to the dressmakers for the first fitting of her wedding gown. While studying her straight back, he had meditated on how unusually docile she was behaving. He simply had to point her in the desired direction and she was complying, without a fuss.
However, he had hated to let her go, and her absence today from his home had been a bit maddening. He would have preferred to keep her there until the day of the wedding.
Last night, he had given her the ring. This morning they'd said little to each other as they basked in their newfound tranquility.
Unfortunately, he'd had to risk disrupting that peace by introducing a delicate, but necessary subject.
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"Jade, there is a matter that I wish to speak with you about."
She looked up from her book with an alert gaze.
Erik studied those intense eyes, and then continued.
"When we are husband and wife, I want our first time together to be comfortable for you."
Pausing, he watched as her cheeks reddened. Because of her previous relationship, he had wondered if she was still a virgin. Her modesty showed that she was, and he held back a sigh of relief. At least in that area he would not have to compete with a memory.
She lifted her chin and gave him a serious, attentive look, which nearly made him smile.
Tilting his head slightly, he continued. "There is something that you can do to prepare yourself. If you would allow me to instruct you…"
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As he moved through the deep shadows that filled that poorly lit street, a clock struck the hour. The last chime resounded, grew thin, and eventually disappeared into the noise of distant traffic. Suddenly, there was the rumbling of wheels in a nearby street, and Erik watched as a carriage appeared a couple of streets away. Abruptly, it stopped.
Before Jade could step out, Erik was climbing in. Then the vehicle started up again.
Feeling her beside him, he lovingly looked down at her. They had been apart since the late afternoon, and he was eager to touch her again. When he saw the pensive look on her face, he took her hands and caressed them. Something has upset her, he thought. The relaxed air that she'd had earlier in the day had disappeared. Tucking his fingers under her chin, he gently turned her head towards him.
"What is it Jade?" he asked smoothly.
She slowly blinked as she somberly stared up at him.
"Erik, I have been thinking of the last night that we were together in your home, the night you played your music and I left." She paused, as if searching for words.
A feeling of dread descended on him, and his jaw tightened.
"Why did you play that music?" she asked.
Erik held her gaze for a long moment and then answered cautiously. "I was angry, my dear. I thought you had chosen another, the farmer." He watched her and waited.
Jade nodded, and turned away from him. Then she stared out the carriage window for several minute before quietly asking, "Were you trying to hurt me?"
There was a rawness to her voice that compelled him to touch her. She turned to him, and there were tears on her cheeks.
He replied hoarsely, "No, Jade. My anger was not meant for you."
Suddenly, she pushed her face into his chest. Gathering her into his arms, Erik stroked her hair while she took in a deep breath, and let out a long sigh. He held her as the carriage rocked them both.
After a minute, she murmured, "When you play your music, it fills me up." Then her hands crept up his chest, and rested on his shoulders as she raised her face to his. "You must never use it to hurt me, Erik." She gave him a tight, sad smile.
Swallowing hard, he pulled her closer and said, "I give you my word that I will never do that again."
Jade settled against his chest, and Erik gently cradled her head with his hand as he stared into the night.
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On the day of her wedding, Jade sat in front of a vanity mirror while Madame Giry combed out her hair. Yards of white satin bunched at her feet, and she resisted the impulse to kick off the encumbrance. Patiently, she waited for the woman to finish. She was sitting very straight with her chin held high as she watched the sure hands pile hair upon her head, and deftly pin it in place with jewel studded, silver combs.
When the woman finished, Jade met her eyes in the mirror, and gave her a brief nod of thanks.
Last night she had checked into a hotel, and had met Mme. Giry there. The older woman's cool stare had indicated a possible disapproval of her, so Jade had remained silent as they walked to their suite.
Erik had told her that Mme. Giry would be spending the night with her in the hotel. "She will assist you with your gown and hair. She is an old acquaintance of mine, and you may speak freely to her about anything that you wish," he had said.
It had been an unnecessary assurance since the two women had scarcely said a thing to each other.
The wedding gown had been waiting for Jade in the wardrobe when she entered her room. She had spread it across the bed and looked at its glory, dazzled by its splendor and the fact that it was hers.
Now she gazed in the mirror and examined the silver embroidery dotted with pearls that edged the décolletage of the gown. Her breasts were slightly exposed giving her a virginal appearance. That same elaborate design formed a V at her waist making it appear even smaller. She traced the shapes of birds, horses, and flowers, which merged into a band of dancing forms across her breasts. Soft lace was neatly tucked between the voluminous folds of the skirt, and hung in a spray from the ends of her sleeves.
As Mme. Giry carried the veil to her, Jade wished that it was her mother helping her today. That was how it should have been—her mother guiding her through this ritual. Shutting her eyes, she said a prayer asking her mother to bless their marriage.
Manette's veil was pinned around the shining combs, followed by the veil of Danish lace that Erik had given her. When it was finished, Jade peered out at the room, which suddenly was patterned with floating flowers. She turned her head, and the fabric gently pulled back as if telling her that she was soon be entwined with another.
Stepping back, Mme. Giry gave her a nod. Slowly, Jade rose from her seat, and picked up her bouquet of white orchids.
She was ready.
The four men looked up as she entered the room. They were bending over a table signing documents. Through the lace, she watched as Erik straightened and faced her.
He was wearing a gray mask that completely covered the part of his face that was above his mouth. It was the same color as his elegant, dove gray suit. His head was bare, and his black hair shone in the lamplight.
As Jade glided towards him the room stretched out, and everything vanished except for his tall, powerful shape. His impassioned eyes fixed on hers, and stared down at her with a look of triumph.
Tightly he gripped her hands and his controlled ardor pushed aside the dreamlike state she had been in all day. This was real. She was about to be joined to Erik. Catching her breath, she stared into his intense eyes as he pulled her to him.
The mayor of Paris was there to perform the service with Jules Bernard and Mme. Giry as their witnesses. The Civil Code was read, and the couple was questioned. Then the clerk passed them the certificates, which they signed.
When Erik signed his name, Jade stared at his bold signature: M. Erik Marsolais. Then she looked at her own signature. She had become a new woman with a new name. Just like that, it was done. They were now legally husband and wife.
Her trancelike state returned when Erik smoothly led her to the adjacent reception room. There the perfumed splendor of the bouquets covered her with their scent. The pressure on her hand eased and Erik lifted the veil from her face.
As he lowered his masked face to hers, she watched his eyes. The strange mask concealed him from the rest of the world, but his eyes were naked with elation. His warm breath touched her ear, and his rich voice pierced the dream as he said, "Jade, you are mine, as I am yours."
That simple declaration held immense promise.
With great tenderness, his lips joined hers in a long kiss.
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It was a very short visit with Erik's friends. They were there as legal witnesses, and would not be staying. But before they left, Jade led Erik to the two wedding cakes. Holding the knife, she placed Erik's hand over hers and cut the first piece from each cake. Then she brought a morsel to his lips. As he returned the favor his fingers rested briefly on her lips, reminding her of what was to come. Each guests was given a piece, which they dutifully ate in order to bless the marriage.
When they were alone, Jade stared up at Erik wondering what feelings were moving across his face. He was holding her hands tightly as if she were a bird that was about to fly away from him. She knew that he was pleased with her appearance since his eyes would sweep her body, and return to her face with renewed fire.
Carefully he pulled her to him, and slid his hand slowly down her back in a long caress. "You are beautiful, my dear," he said with a tight sound in his voice. "In three hours, Jules will return for you, and take you to the church. I will be waiting for you there."
He suddenly released her and strode away. As she watched him disappear through the door, the enchantment was broken. She sat down and stared distantly at the door as she waited for her guests to appear.
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Jade sat amid her friends at the wedding feast. Everyone seemed very pleased to be there with her on her wedding day. That is, except for Pierre and Jean.
The two men were behaving in a reserved manner, as if they were waiting for something dreadful to occur. They were huddled together, and speaking to each other in quiet voices. Storm crows, she thought as she watched them pick at the wedding cake with disinterest. They seemed hesitant to perform the simple act of consuming it, which would bless her marriage with good fortune and fertility.
She shook her head, and tried to dismiss her disquiet. It was natural that they be concerned. Here was the wedding celebration, and only the bride was present! Jade knew they hadn't believed her when she said that her husband hadn't been able to attend because he was busy dealing with the last affairs of the day.
If only I were a better liar, she thought wryly. Then I would be able to create a plausible story that would make them less suspicious of Erik. Sighing, she looked at Mme. Pissaro who was chatting with Michel Aubert. The older woman had been very disappointed when she'd heard that she wouldn't be meeting M. Marsolais.
As the musicians played, the hotel staff carried food to and from the room. It was a sumptuous meal that included grouse and of course, the traditional wedding cake. The croquembouche stood towering above the rest of the food with its pyramid of delicate, crème filled pastry puffs covered with caramel glaze and spun sugar. Next to it was a smaller white cake that Jade had ordered—the traditional wedding cake of her family.
Paul Rascon's children were munching on their dragees—almonds and nougat covered with chocolate. It would have been more traditional for her, as the bride, to toss them to the children as she and her husband left the church after the service. However, since the children wouldn't be there, this would have to do.
Jade wasn't exactly superstitious, but she felt that it couldn't hurt to follow the wedding traditions that blessed a new union. She and Erik would need all the luck they could get as they started their new life together.
All of her friends had come for the dinner. And even though Pierre and Jean weren't enthusiastic about her marriage, they were still here, demonstrating that they cared about her happiness. In spite of the fact that Erik couldn't be here at her side, she felt blessed.
A hand softly touched her back, and she looked up into Michel's dark eyes.
"Jade, would you dance with me?" he asked a little shyly.
Smiling, she rose and stepped out onto the floor, as Michel looked down at her with adoring eyes.
An hour later, Jade said goodbye to her guests. Gabrielle pulled her aside, and gave her a knowing look that seemed to say that they were sharing a private joke.
"Now that you are back in the world again, Madame, I hope you will join me on a trip to one of my favorite cafés. There are some artists that I would like to introduce you to." Her eyes sparkled with mischief. At the mention of artists, Jade's heart sped up a little and she smiled.
Bending over her, Gabrielle whispered into her ear. "Enjoy tonight, my dear." Her eyes danced as she watched Jade blush.
Pierre, his sister Marie, and Michel said their goodbyes together. Marie took Jade's hands and squeezed them while gazing excitedly into her eyes.
"I hope I look half as beautiful as you when I marry! I'm still trying to comprehend how your husband could design such an exquisite gown. It suits you perfectly. You will be coming to my wedding, won't you?" she added breathlessly.
Nodding, Jade smiled and patted her hand. Since Pierre's family had been guests at her wedding, it would be acceptable for her to attend Marie's, even after she had turned down Pierre's proposal.
Pierre was standing back from the others, watching her. As she took his large hands in hers, and felt their warmth, Jade was suddenly moved by tender sadness. She had yet to speak with him about her decision to marry. A long letter explaining the events of her recovery and Erik's proposal had only touched on what she had really wanted to say. They 'd agreed to meet the next time he came to Paris. Until then, he would have to wait for her story.
Of all of her friends, he was the dearest, and the one that she loved best. Looking into his eyes, she nearly gripped his hands when he slowly withdrew them.
The last to leave was Jean and Manette. They embraced her, and Manette fussed with the veils as she exclaimed that everything had been perfect. Jean took Jade's hand, and gave her a serious look.
"You will visit us soon," he stated, as if it were no longer her choice. Then he squeezed her hand, and they departed.
A few minutes later, Jules Bernard entered the room, and escorted her downstairs.
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When she saw the waiting carriage with the gray horse, Jade smiled. Erik had thought of everything!
By the time they arrived at the church it was dark. They entered through the side entrance, and found Erik, Mme. Giry, and the priest waiting for them.
There were candles everywhere—candelabras interspersed between enormous bouquets of white flowers in shining, silver vases. The sharp scent of incense mingled with their sweet fragrance. Erik had changed from his gray morning suit to a black one. As Jules led Jade to the back of the church, she turned her head and looked at Erik whose eyes followed her from behind the dark mask.
They reached the back of the church, and turned. Slowly, she walked down the aisle with a majestic pace, past row after row of empty pews. The high ceiling above was hidden in shadows, and seemed a gateway to heaven. Her gaze caressed the delicate white blossoms and bright silver. Beside her were the muffled footsteps of her companion who was gently pulling her along. He was leading her to Erik who was standing with his head held high, watching her. In the eyes of France he was already her husband but it was here, before God, that they would truly be married.
Jade met him at the steps to the altar and looked up at him through her veil. His black mask made him look like a bold bandit. She felt a sudden thrill when he took her hand, as if he was about to clasp her in his arms and carry her away. The incense floated around them and draped them in its cloying perfume. Her skin felt flushed under her dress when his hand folded over hers as he claimed her in front the witnesses.
Together, Erik and Jade knelt on the carpeted steps, and heard the mass. Under the soothing rhythms of the priest's voice, her excitement fell off and a blessed stillness settled around her. When the mass was finished, a brief marriage ceremony took place.
Stepping under the carre—a square of silk fabric stretched above their heads, Jade gazed at the tall man who stood by her side as they received the priest's final blessing. He looked proud, and noble under that pale canopy. She knew that after this, Erik would probably not enter a church again, unless it was for their first child's baptism. The church service had been arranged for her benefit. This was his gift to her, and she was grateful for his splendid kindness.
As they left the church, their feet crushed the laurel leaves that covered the aisle, and released a strong, sweet odor. Then they passed beneath the flowered arch and stepped outside.
Jade waited in the carriage as Erik spoke with M. Bernard for a minute. The night air was chilly, and she pulled the cloak closer about her. When Erik stepped in, he gave her a long piercing look that she couldn't read. By then, she was beginning to feel tired after the excitement of the day, so she shut her eyes and leaned back in the seat. She drifted off, and awoke when they arrived at the iron-gate.
Once in the boat her voluminous dress occupied all of the free space. They floated along, and she dreamily watched as Erik moved the craft with smooth, quick strokes. She smiled when she thought of how the two of them must look stuffed in a tiny boat on an underground lake in full wedding regalia. It was a strange, and wonderful life that she'd gotten herself into. For a brief moment, she wondered what new astonishing things might be ahead. Or would some day all of this be nothing more than everyday life?
When they arrived, Erik lifted her out of the boat, and carried her to his bedroom where he laid her on the bed. Turning on his heel, he vanished. Then he returned several minutes later, carrying an engraved cup, a double handled la coupe de mariage—the toasting cup used by newlyweds. He had removed the full mask and was again wearing his half mask.
They sat on the bed, solemnly toasted their marriage, and drank from the cup.
It was just wine, and she drank only enough to fill a wine glass. However suddenly, Jade felt as if she'd drunk an entire bottle. It went to her head, and she looked up at Erik with shining eyes. Slowly, he placed the cup on the table. Then he rose and stood in front of her. With his long legs, he towered above her. Her blurred eyes focused on his crotch, which seemed to be expanding as she watched.
He took her hands and pulled her to him. Both of them were breathing hard.
Erik's eyes traveled up and down her body and then rested on her face. Slowly, his hands encircled her waist as he said with a sultry voice, "May I be of service to you, my dear?"
A/N: in this chapter, I've included some of the wedding traditions of France from that time. One belief was that a gray horse pulling the wedding carriage brought luck to the marriage.
Well dear readers, this was a very hard chapter for me to write. I've become rather dependent upon angst to further the story and keep it interesting. So, although I'll do my best to get a chapter to you every two weeks, please don't get too frustrated if sometimes it takes longer. I know you need regular installments in order to stay interested in this story.
Thanks again to those of you who review! I got the 600th review this week which was exciting. We authors LOVE to hear from you, our delightful muses.