CHAPTER SIX

Jane's eyes fluttered open. It was still early in the morning, but the sun was up. She could hear the shrill yet melodious calls of the bird that nested in the trees around their house. The sky was clear of clouds and the air was warm. The lavender walls of her bedroom had a soft glow in the early morning light. She loved this bedroom. She had been here for all of her childhood years - she had read mountains of books in here, sketched pictures by candlelight into the early hours of the morning, and studied for university exams.

Looking at the clock, she knew she had only a few hours until a carriage would arrive to take her to Larkin's family home to prepare for the wedding that day. This day had come much quicker than she had expected. It had been a large, if not the only, topic of discussion amongst her friends at the university. They were all going to be in attendance at the early afternoon ceremony, and were undeniably excited to be friends with a young woman marrying into such a prestigious family. Prestige did not appeal much to Jane, but it seemed to appeal to everyone around her.

She pulled on an old, cream colored frock, and began brushing her long, straight hair. Clara would be helping her in getting ready for the wedding at the Edwards' family home later that morning, but Jane still wanted time to ready herself independently. Her father knocked softly at her door, pushing it open a bit. "Jane, dear. How are you feeling?" he asked.

Jane placed her comb back on the bureau, turning to face her father. "Nervous."

"What about?" he asked, running his fingers through his wildly disheveled white hair, still trying to wake up completely.

"I'm getting married, Daddy. It's…a big day, and at the end of it, I won't be a Porter anymore - I'll be an Edwards, then." She poured a bit, vehemently wanting to keep her family surname, despite knowing the family of her future husband would never allow that.

"Don't fret, dear, you'll always be a Porter, too," her father said, patting her shoulder. "You'll be alright. These things always seem to go smoothly if you relax." It did comfort her to know that she would always be a Porter, too. There was no way she could completely sever the ties between herself and that name. "Your mother was nervous on our wedding day, too. So was I. I nearly jumped out of my own skin I was so jittery!"

The last thing Jane could do was relax.

...

"You look lovely," Clara said, making a minor adjustment to Jane's veil.

Jane looked at herself in the mirror, and she was met with an unusual sight. Her did not look like herself at all, her normally bare face adorned with make up now - a thin layer of a warm golden toned eyeshadow covering her eyelids and her lips coated in the color of fresh raspberries. "Mm," she hummed, "I suppose. It all feels so unnatural."

"You look stiff - try to relax a bit. I can understand if you're nervous though. There are a lot of people here."

Jane had tried to push that from her mind - the sheer amount of guests at this wedding, and even more would be at the reception. "Don't remind me," she chuckled. "Oh, Clara," she lamented; "I feel like a fraud, an utter fraud."

Larkin's sister raised her eyebrows quizzically. She had not expected this reaction out of Jane, a generally emotionally reserved and collected young woman. "What do you mean, Jane?"

"Oh…I don't know," Jane croaked, "You - your whole family is so…fancy, and I'm just a girl from London - I don't have what you all have. I stick out like a sore thumb."

"You don't," Clara comforted, although she could sense that I didn't work, "Larkin loves you, and that's the important thing." With that, a large pipe organ could be heard being played. It was time - the moment that Jane had dreaded, and was most nervous for. She drew in a deep breath, and let it out slowly, putting one foot in front of the other. She couldn't help but feel like she was walking away from more than she was walking towards.

...

Larkin carried Jane over the threshold of their bedroom that night, cradling her in his arms, which were surprisingly strong given his lack of athleticism. Theirs had been a beautiful wedding. Everything had gone according to plan, and everyone seemed overjoyed. Jane had sipped champagne and pretended to be as elated as everyone else. Marriage had always seemed so confining to her, and the expectation placed upon her to be just like the rest of Larkin's family weighed heavily on her mind.

But, tonight was a happy night, she reminded herself. The several glasses of champagne she had drunk throughout the night were helping her relax a bit too. She had smiled broadly, danced and laughed with all of the guests, trying to feel as jubilant as everyone else around her. She assured herself that all of this hesitance and resistance was just nervousness - and it would go away after she had some time to settle in.

Their bedroom seemed even larger than when she had first seen it. Granted, it was decorated now and full of lavish things. Larkin placed her down on the bed, and kissed her. "Welcome home, Mrs. Edwards," he said, flashing her his usual suave and confident smile. His voice was as smooth and slick as oil, and it exuded the same inflated confidence that his body language did. Jane nearly winced at the mention of her new last name. Jane Edwards wasn't her name - she was still Jane Porter. She didn't know if she would ever fully adapt to being an Edwards.

Jane smiled and kissed him back, "Mm, yes, Mrs. Edwards. That sounds lovely."

"Well, Mrs. Edwards," he said, smirking, "I've got one more surprise in store for you." He kissed her again, more passionately this time. Jane knew what this meant. Her cheeks flushed a bit at the mention of it. She knew what couples did on their wedding night. It was no secret or surprise. Her friends had giggled about this during the reception, thoroughly entertained by the idea of a generally proper and reserved Jane doing such things.

She had never been with anyone like this - she had kissed her childhood crushes on the cheek before running away in a fit of giggles, and she had kissed Larkin many times, but never had she been kissed like this. She didn't entirely know if she enjoyed it. Actually, she knew she didn't - it was more so a matter of if she could learn to pretend to enjoy it.

She told herself to relax, and that this was all a natural part of things. She would, and should, enjoy this. This is what married couples did, after all. It only made sense that they would do it too. What was wrong so deeply with her that she couldn't relax, and she couldn't shake the feeling that this was wrong? She did not know.

She could see what Larkin wanted and expected, and she obliged - not entirely enthusiastically. Her dress and undergarments were pulled away, and she felt exposed - horribly exposed, in fact. No one had seen her in such a state of undress. Despite her discomfort, she plastered a sensual smile across her face, and obliged her husband's desires.

Her mind wandered - it wandered to the memories of a certain face leaning in to kiss her - the face of a wilder man, one with dark hair and green eyes. She had enjoyed kissing him. She had never felt the intense desire to pull away like she did with the man in front of her now. She gasped, trying to vanquish the thought from her mind. She mustn't think like that, not now, not ever again. No. Larkin did not notice her gasp, or if he did, it blended well with the ragged, pleasured breathing coming from himself enough that he did not question it.

Later that night, once Larkin had fallen into a deep sleep, Jane lay awake in their bed, staring mindlessly at the ceiling. She could not sleep. It felt as if the walls were closing in on her. She fiddled with the ring on her left hand, and admired it. The diamond glinted a bit in the moonlight.

She reached for her nightgown and pulled it on, not wishing to be so exposed, even around her now husband, despite him being completely asleep. She crossed from the bed to the window seat that overlooked their front garden. She sat there for a long time in silence.

It was a full moon that night, and the pale light illuminated everything in frosty white. Jane stared at the moon, imagining that she could float through the window, up into the sky, and just fly away. She wished she could fly away from this. No matter how lavish her surroundings were, the walls still felt too tight, and the shutters felt like bars on a jail cell.

But perhaps things would be alright, she reminded herself. This was only the first night. There were countless nights ahead of them and she would be used to this soon. Soon, the house would not feel like it was swallowing her whole.

—

Tarzan lay awake, unusually alert. It had been hours since he had settled down to sleep, but he could not seem to fall into slumber despite his best efforts. He felt troubled, but he did not know why.

No longer able to lay still in his best on the jungle floor, he rose. He did not know where he wanted to go. The treehouse was too far to stray from the rest of the gorillas this late in the night, so that was out of the question.

Not seeing any other option, he made his way through the gnarled tree branches and curtains of vines until he reached the beach. It was a balmy night, and the smell of the salt water was pleasant enough - a comfortably warm breeze rustled the trees. The moon was full that night, an white ornament hanging in the rich blackness of the night sky. He stared at it for a moment, wondering if everyone in the world got to see the moon the same way that he did. He wondered if Jane looked at the moon often. He wondered if Jane thought of him, or if she had broken her word and forgotten about him.

He recalled a night, much like this one, where he had gone to Jane's camp and she had met him outside her tent. Like the many nights where they had done that before, he climbed high into the branches of a tree, helping her along, but ultimately letting her to ascend as independently as she could. They had sat in the branches for a long time, like they usually did. But this night felt different than the others had.

"It's a beautiful night, isn't it?" Jane had whispered, casting her gaze upwards to the sky, dotted with stars.

"You are beautiful," he had said, cupping her face in his hands. Her skin was soft and smooth - unlike anything he had ever felt before. Without knowing entirely what he was doing or why he was doing it, he had leaned forward, bringing their faces closer together. Their lips met — a warm, soft feeling that Tarzan had never experienced before. Jane was so soft, and her lips fit so well with his. He wanted to do this again - many more times, as many as he would be allowed.

Staring out over the ocean, he recalled this night silently to himself. It had been a good night. They had kissed many times. He could have sworn if he thought about it for long enough, he could feel her lips on his again.