The Foyles and the Stewarts met at the magistrate's office a few minutes before the appointed time. Andrew and Christopher arrived first and so the groom stood at the end of the hall watching his young bride as she moved toward him, almost as she would if this were a church wedding. And just as he would have stood at the end of the aisle in a church, he stood now taken aback by how very fortunate he was that this woman had consented to marrying him. He was aware of others present but his eyes would only settle on her; he simply couldn't be bothered with anyone else at that moment. "You're so very lovely," he said softly as she came close to stand next to him. Sam looked down demurely, a faint blush creeping up her face. And they simply stood there next to one another for some indeterminate amount of time, marveling at what was about to take place.

Sam and Christopher were oblivious to the expressions of the people who stood around them, the smirks and smiles of Andrew, both Reverend Stewarts, and Mrs. Stewart. Nor did he see the look of protective tenderness on her father's face as his smile turned bittersweet. Aubrey's expression changed to one of wonder and Samantha's mother fought tears. Andrew was beaming, absolute glee erasing many of the lines on his face that the war had put there. For all of them, it was quite obvious in the way that Christopher and Sam were looking at one another in that moment that the couple well and truly belonged together.

The ceremony was short and followed by a blessing of their marriage by Aubrey Stewart. The group had a celebratory supper at one of London's finest restaurants and then the Stewarts left for their hotel. Andrew saw his father and new bride off and caught a cab to his flat.

Mr. and Mrs. Christopher Foyle left in his car, with him behind the wheel. It was a dangerous proposition, he knew, for him to be driving as distracted as he was by Sam sitting next to him.

"I... hope you don't mind I'm not in white," Sam said shyly. "I... just couldn't, under the circumstance. Upset my mother that I didn't buy a new white dress for the occasion but I just told her I didn't have the time or money for a wedding outfit. "

Foyle hadn't minded at all. The pale cream dress she wore was perfect in his eyes, the lines falling flawlessly on her body. "Nooo, don't mind the color at all. Looks lovely... you look lovely in it." He pulled the car to the curb in front of her flat. "You have a bag packed? Hhave a room at the Dorchester for tonight."

Her eyes lit and a nervous smile crept across her face. "I do. I wasn't sure what to pack however. You never said ... well, where we'd ... or how long either, for that matter."

Christopher grimaced. "Oh right. Wull, erm... thought we'd stay at the Dorchester tonight and then move our belongings back to Hastings. Once we've opened the house there, we can go wherever you'd like. Thought perhaps... a fortnight away?"

"Oh golly, a fortnight? I thought... I'd hoped for a few days; I never dreamed... a whole fortnight? "

"Iif that's alright. Thought it might give us time to get better acquainted before settling into a routine together." And a way to make you rest before you begin making my house our home.

"Oh, I think it sounds marvelous!" She fidgeted with the door handle, eager to get started with her new life.

"Hold on, Sam." Christopher shot out of his side of the car and moved around to open her door and offer his hand to assist her out. Another round of warm waves rolled through him as she looked up him, surprised and pleased.

They gathered her things and returned to the car for the short journey to the Dorchester. Sam's eyes widened as they pulled up and a porter helped her from the car and then hurried to help Christopher with the bags. She stood at his side, a bright smile lighting her face as her new husband signed them in and the clerk wished Mr. and Mrs. Foyle a pleasant night. Christopher was a bit displeased by the clerk's insolent look as he did so, but he let it pass not wanting to upset Sam.

But Sam had noticed the look too and as she linked her arm in Christopher's, she leaned in to plant a soft, subtle kiss just below his ear. Then she whispered, "I can't wait to get upstairs," sending his heart into a fully fledged gallop and warmth into all parts of his body. For the first time in many years, he thought he might be blushing. As they entered the lift, he reminded himself to stay calm. He wasn't certain Sam was really ready for the usual wedding night activities. It had been months since her attack but he knew it had left a vile impression. She'd welcomed the kissing and canoodling they'd engaged in over the past weeks, but he'd been careful not to press for too much. He knew the same restraint might be required even now that they were married.

Christopher took pleasure in Sam's reaction to the room. She stood looking around in awe. It wasn't that they'd never stood in such surroundings before, but usually only as interlopers. Tonight, this was their space. Once the porter was tipped and gone, he turned to simply watch her delight as she explored her surroundings.

"Golly," she said as she turned to look at him. "I've never stayed in a room that is so... so..."

Amused by her sudden lack of words, Christopher felt his mouth go down in a deep, chuffed smile and found himself at a loss for words as well. She crossed to where he was standing and threw her arms around him. "It's real, isn't it? I'm not dreaming? We're married? I'm not going to wake up in my flat and find this was just a marvelous dream, am I?"

"Unlikely we'd be having the same dream, Sam." He hugged her tightly to him and relished the feel of her there and even more, he relished the freedom to hold her as he had wanted to so many times over the years.

After a moment, she pulled away and looked around again. "Well,... I suppose I should... I mean, it is our wedding night and... well, Mother sort of implied that... " she closed her eyes in humiliation. Then a look of determination came over her. "I shouldn't be so... I wish I were more ... more sophisticated and knew more about how to behave right now but this is all new to me and I haven't any idea what I should do or what." then staring at him intently, her eyes narrowed. "You on the other hand, have done this before. Really Christopher, I would think you'd take the lead in this and besides, Mother said that..." her tirade was cut off by his kiss.

"Jolly good," she whispered as they parted again.

Christopher could only gaze at his bride, a small smile at the corners of his mouth. She looked so eager and so frightened all at the same time. Finally words came to him. "My darling Sam, it's true I have been married before and had a wedding night. But this is all new for me as well, because it isn't the same. And I am feeling as hesitant as you. But ... this ... tonight is only the beginning. Let's not hurry things that don't need to be hurried, hmmm?"

"But Mother said... I thought..."

Tucking his chin for an instant, Christopher wondered what Sam's mother might have said that had her so worked up, so worried. But then he decided he'd rather not know. "Let's not let your mother's thoughts on the matter define our first night, hmmm?" He reached out to caress the line of her cheek tenderly and then eased his fingers back into her hair, delighting in the silky feel of it. "Let's take things as they come to us, alright?"

She stared at him in disbelief, her eyes wide with wonder and then slowly fear took hold. "Oh Christopher, I'm so terrified it will hurt... like that night... like..." she looked away in foreboding. "I want to... to be with you but... I'm so frightened," she whispered.

He hooked his finger under her chin and lifted it as he turned her head back where he could look into her eyes. The fear he found there was heartbreaking, reminding him of that night so many months ago when she'd appeared on his doorstep. "Sam, I love you. I want to be with you as well, but not in a way that would hurt you. It does hurt sometimes, the first time for women, but with everything you've been through I would think that is in the past. Still, we can go very slow with this or not at all, at least until you feel you are ready. I have you here with me and I can hold you as I've wanted to hold you for so very long. For now that is enough for me. We needn't rush things."

"But... but don't you want... I thought... well, the girls at the MTC and other of my friends all said that men... that they seem to need... it. And besides, you told me once that you were not very good at waiting."

Christopher's mouth folded into an amused upside down smile. "Need? Wull, I s'ppose those men would want the ladies to think that." Tilting his head in consideration, he looked away and then languidly back at her. "Been a few years for me Sam, and...nnnot dead yet. Nnot saying I'm not interested but perhaps because I am older, I can wait. Nnever thought we'd be here to begin with."

"So you do want to... do that?"

He gathered her into his arms to kiss her while pressing his body into hers, leaving no doubt as to his desire. the kiss was full and passionate but it was other parts of himself probing her that caught her attention. When he pulled away, his darkened eyes looked into hers. "Answer your question, Sam?"

A shudder ran through her which alarmed Christopher. Had he gone too far? Forcing his body away from hers but only slightly, he gazed at her again, looking for some sign that it was too much for her. But instead, he found a spark had been ignited. Oh, it was a dim spark but it was there. Now how to bring it to life? How to proceed? Her expression told him she was still unsure but curious and looking to him for guidance.

"Let's erm... let's change into our night clothes, mmm? Ccan just talk awhile? Enjoy the company?"

She smiled at that and stepped away as he released her from his grasp. He watched as she moved to her bag and began to dig through it. Her motions, the simplicity of the scene struck Christopher as wonderfully exciting. He was here, in a hotel room with her, and she was his wife engaged in such a womanly and wifely activity. He smiled as she found the garment she was hunting but barely let his eyes glimpse the fabric, his attention more on her face as a small flush rose in her cheeks. He watched under hooded lids as she made a grab for a couple of toiletries and dashed to the bathroom.

As the door closed behind her, he turned his thoughts to his own preparations for the night. Pulling his own pajamas and dressing gown from his bag, he tried not to let the thought take root that the pajamas might not be needed for long. Closing his eyes as a wave of desire rippled through him, Christopher fought for self control. Don't bugger this up, he told himself. But it had been too many years since he'd been alone in a room with a woman who was his wife, who was his to caress and love, and he found he truly did need her.

Early in the 20th century the Dorchester held prestigious literary gatherings, notably the "Foyles Literary Luncheons", an event the hotel still hosts today. Couldn't resist having the Foyles stay their on their wedding night. Another bit of trivia about the hotel is that during the Second World War, the strength of its construction gave the hotel the reputation of being one of London's safest buildings, and a host of political and military luminaries chose it as their London residence.