Chapter Five

Chapter Five

The hour grew later, but Zeke found he could not bring himself to retire. He was buzzing with energy of a thousand different kinds going at least as many directions, his mind a muddle, his body electrified. And he only knew of one way to cure that. Well, two, actually, but one way required a partner and while Evangelina had responded with tender, innocent fervor to his kiss, he did not plan on pressing any further that night. So he went to paint, and that was what he was about when the lady of the hour, the bride herself, found him.

“Lady Marston,” Zeke sketched her a quick bow as she entered.

“Formal this evening, are we?” Samira asked, coming toward him.

“One of us is,” Zeke cast a glance at the silk robe that wrapped her.

It was more than modest, covering more of her skin than her wedding gown had, but it was sensual, thin. She was a lovely woman, of course, all slender, tall grace. Zeke would love to paint her, as Diana, goddess of the Hunt, perhaps with Rowan trailing behind her as one of her hounds. The thought made Zeke smile.

Samira blushed warmly. “I’ll be going back up soon, but I wanted to see you.”

“On your wedding night?” Zeke thought of several indecorous jokes, but he prided himself on making exactly none of them.

“Yes, well, it is rather important I think,” Samira hesitated.

She chewed her lip, betraying an unease about her person that was strikingly uncommon on her. Zeke had not known her overly long, but some people had a certain air about them that quickly categorized them in a person’s mind. Samira was sharp, fierce, confident, and decisive. The energy that hung about her as  she stood before Zeke was strange and unnerving. Every bit of Samira that Zeke had ever seen was unflinching, unwavering, always forging ahead on the most direct route. She was tactful, strategic, smart, but hardly a manipulator, so what could she be toying with in that quick mind of hers?

“Out with it, Samira, please,” Zeke made a slash across the canvas that he found he very much did not like.

This woman was throwing him off. She was set in sharp contrast to her sister, who made the world bloom anew with possibilities, made him feel creative and like anything was possible. Samira made sure all his lofty dreams crashed back to the earth. Damn her practicality; she and Rowan were made for each other. It wafted off the two of them like a lingering scent. Eldest children, lost fathers…did that, Zeke wondered, make him and Evangelina more alike? The younger sibling, the dreamer?

“She is barely more than a child, Ezekiel,” said Samira forcefully.

He pushed his tongue into his cheek.

“I am aware of her age, thank you,” Zeke dabbed his paintbrush on the canvas, attempting to remedy the ugly splotch he’d created previously.

“I mean that she is not a woman of the world,” Samira stepped closer. “And you very much are.”

“A woman of the world?” Zeke cocked an eyebrow at his new sister-in-law.

Samira practically growled. “A man of the world, and don’t be flippant. I am trying to talk to you about something serious.”

Zeke dropped his paintbrush onto his palette and turned to her abruptly. “What are you concerned about? Do you think I’m going to hurt her?”

Samira’s eyes opened wider at the sharpness of his words, but Zeke did not like what he was being accused of.

“I think some men do not understand the gravity of what young women are asked to do on their wedding nights, Mr. Marston,” Samira said curtly.

Zeke rubbed his chin. “I may not fully understand it, my lady, but I do respect it. Rest assured.”

Samira breathed deeply. “All right. But you must know, you must slowly acquaint her with...things you might otherwise be used to.”

Zeke rolled his eyes. “My God, what did Rowan do to you your first time that you think I wouldn’t know that?”

She scowled fiercely, and Zeke flushed suddenly.

“Apologies, my lady, that was impertinent and rude in the extreme,” Zeke said quietly. “But I will remind you that my ‘man of the world’ status as you call it would be a benefit. It is not the likes of me you should worry about, but the men who find it difficult to seduce a woman by their own gifts and are therefore resentful, or those who do not find it necessary and prefer to purchase their companionship. I am neither.”

Samira’s face was red and her expression was stony. “I see. Well, as long as you know what you’re doing, and know that she is more precious to me than anything on this earth. This is a close family, Ezekiel, on both sides, and things never stay quiet for long.”

Ye gads, she was right. Even as she turned away and stomped from the room, Zeke hated to admit she had a point. Women talked, he knew, and often in excruciating detail in ways men would never dream of describing. Samira was part of the family, Evangelina was growing closer with Callista, even Deirdre…A clench of worry and apprehension coiled in Zeke’s belly. He had never actually deflowered anyone before, and he’d been taught to expect anything from a bit of pain to downright hysterics. What if, despite all his best intentions, he actually did hurt her? That would be bad enough, but to suddenly have sisters and brothers and a sister-in-law who was practically poised with a knife to castrate him, all knowing even in the vaguest of terms? Zeke didn’t know if he’d ever be able to perform again.

He groaned and dropped his head into his hand. It was supposed to be simple, marrying a girl who was practically family already, a sweet girl, a good girl, a girl he could help and save. That was what all the storybooks would have him believe made for the perfect marriage. But now, it seemed desperately complicated, entangled as a spider’s web.

Evangelina bounded down the stairs that morning, unable and unwilling to contain her jubilance. The night before had been glorious, her first kiss, and the memory swirled around, wrapped dark, loving arms tight about her being, worked its way inside her until it was part of her very soul. He had been so beautiful, so good, so gentle; it was everything she had dreamed and more. A fairytale indeed, with the perfect prince, the perfect kiss, and soon, the wedding to seal it all.

That made her a little nervous, that so soon, she would be a bride, then a wife, but Evangelina knew she had nothing to fear. Even when she’d been so silly the night before, feeling strange in her belly when he kissed her, touched her, Zeke had been patient, kind, never laughing at her. It was a very good thing he was not really a prince, as she would faint under the pressures of being a princess, but the wife of a gentleman artist, that she would enjoy.

Evangelina would have to learn a great deal about art so they could have long, deep discussions, and so that she could befriend and impress his colleagues. Evangelina resolved that, once they got to London, she would visit a bookshop and get biographies of a few painters along with several books on painting theory and practice. Then, once she had read them, she could impress her new husband with her great font of knowledge.

At the moment, the man himself was preparing to leave on horseback for London, riding out ahead of the rest of the party. He planned to procure a special license in London so that they could wed later on that afternoon, and Patrice had explained to Evangelina that the London residence would be safer, with fewer entrances and exits, just in case the Earl still decided to try something, though Evangelina doubted it. If she was already married, what possible good could she be to him?

But of course, she had to get married first, and even before that, she had to say goodbye to her fiance. Zeke was at the front of the house with his mount saddled, standing by and waiting to see Eva. She rushed out of the house and toward him. It was only the two of them out, the bride and groom still abed and likely only to come out when absolutely forced, a reality that made the tips of Evangelina’s ears turn pink. The rest of the household was getting ready to return to London, thankfully not a long journey as they were making it twice in under a week.

“Eva,” said Zeke as he heard her approach.

Evangelina felt very small next to her intended, and very safe. He did not brood and stomp about as some men did – even Rowan at times – to prove his authority. He did not suffer from an abundance of performative masculinity. Evangelina had a hard time imagining him hunting or trying to kill something for sport, or even sporting much in general, though he certainly had to have some kind of physical activity as his physique did not indicate a sedentary lifestyle. Perhaps, if it was something she could adopt like walking or riding, they might do it together.

“Zeke,” Evangelina smiled up at him.

He looked very well in the cool, early morning light, his blue eyes almost gray against the backdrop of the sky, his dark hair swept back, a soft, engaging smile on his face, as usual.

“You’ll only be a few hours behind me,” he said. “But I hope to have a license for us by the time you get to town this afternoon.”

Evangelina nodded. “I hope so as well.”

He smiled. “Indeed. And we will wed, make sure you are safe, and live happily ever after.”

Evangelina beamed at that. “Oh, how wonderful. You make it sound just like a fairy tale.”

Zeke furrowed his brow. “I did, didn’t I? Well, there will be some wonderful and beautiful things, but there will be hard things, too, Evangelina.”

“I know,” she said quickly. “Of course. But we will get through them together, as partners.”

“Sometimes we may disagree or quarrel,” cautioned Zeke.

She laughed. “Oh perhaps, but they will be of no consequence. Not when we are wed and have the feelings we do for each other.”

He knitted his brow, and she quickly went on.

“Affection, care, respect, admiration,” she rattled off, not wanting to give the impression that she expected him to love her, or that she loved him.

Except, she was quite worried she did. With all her heart. Evangelina knew one kiss did not a marriage make, that one kiss couldn’t change everything, except, perhaps it could. And she had just experienced a life-changing kiss the night before.

“Sometimes those are hard to see when one is hurt or angry,” Zeke countered.

Evangelina resisted the urge to stomp her foot. Possibly directly onto his. What was he about?

“Yes, well, we will just have to remind each other of them then, won’t we?” Evangelina stated firmly.

He smiled, but she could not help thinking it a bit sad. She wished she could know what was going on in his head that moment. Was it just fears of the future? Something about her, or them? Was he mourning the life he’d thought he’d lead, perhaps even with another woman? Her stomach clenched again, much worse than the night before, when it had been a good kind of queasy. This was not good. How little she knew him, how far she was from reading his every thought and mood in his face, how far they were from the likes of Rowan and Samira, or even grand, longstanding marriages with love and affection still intact.

“All will be well,” Zeke promised.

Evangelina felt her own smile tightening, and she nodded. He bent his head, plainly intending to plant a kiss on her forehead, but at the last second, she tilted her chin up, offering him her mouth. Evangelina felt him hesitate, felt his breath mingle with hers and the much better coiling in her stomach start up again. Zeke stayed there a moment longer, their lips not yet touching, as he lifted his hand. The leather of his glove was soft and cool on her skin as he stroked his thumb along her cheek. And finally, he dipped his head the last inch and sealed her mouth with his.

Even though the kiss was brief, it was somehow eternal. A thousand feelings unfurled like the petals of night blooming jasmine inside her being, winding themselves around her limbs like vines, planting seeds in the fertile soil of her heart. The soft puff of air that escaped her lips when he broke the kiss was the beginning of a word that she hadn’t even thought but instead felt in her depths. Zeke stepped back and smiled softly, turning to the horse and mounting up in a swift, easy motion. Evangelina didn’t know what else to do, still somehow standing there when he’d turned her bones to liquid with a kiss so chaste it could have been done in church, so she gave a little wave. He smiled genuinely then and urged his horse on.

“I’ll see you soon,” he called back, then spurred his mount.

The horse took off at a trot down the lane, and Evangelina tucked her hand away, suddenly feeling very stupid for having waved in the first place. It was a strange thing, these feelings. One moment, it made her believe she was on top of the world, never to fall, and the next, she felt an utter fool by her every move and thought, certain she would never do anything right again. It was confusing, it was exhausting, and she hoped it would calm down considerably once they were wed.

Before midday, the rest of the party was on the road to London. Evangelina was in a carriage with Joel, Callista, Thalia. The rapport between the siblings was a welcome distraction, even with Joel and Callista’s constant bickering, Thalia had a surprisingly sharp wit that launched from utter silence, making Evangelina’s natural peacemaking tendencies go wild. But she tried her best to simply sit back and absorb the way this large, boisterous family was together, this family that would be hers.

“What will you be wearing for the wedding, Miss Evangelina?” asked Thalia, who was seated beside Evangelina.

Evangelina smiled, more than thrilled to be discussing attire. She was beginning to realize that, though Callista was the one who advertised her sharp mind, Thalia was hiding no small bit of brilliance behind her calm, quiet facade.

“There is a dress of cream colored cotton I haven’t gotten the chance to wear yet,” Evangelina said. “I think that will do nicely.”

“I am sure it will look very beautiful on you,” Thalia smiled.

“Cotton? For a wedding dress?” Callista asked.

“Callie!” Thalia hissed.

“I didn’t mean anything by it!” said Callista quickly. “But you have that lovely pink gown from the engagement ball, and I only thought…”

Callista’s voice trailed off. Evangelina knew she had meant only kindness, but still, her cheeks burned.

“I just think a woman’s wedding dress should be worn first at her wedding,” said Evangelina quietly.

“Of course it should,” said Thalia with unwavering supportiveness. “You are very right to think so.”

Evangelina tried to smile, but she knew then that Thalia quite agreed with her sister. It was evident in the way Thalia spoke, as though to a child who was explaining the clear evidence of faeries. Evangelina was just a bastard girl with no breeding and no taste who couldn’t even pick the right fabric for a wedding dress, and she should be humored so as not to upset her. It was worse than biting comments, worse than outright unkindness. Evangelina knew Thalia meant only well by it, but it cut her so deep she had to look out the window in an attempt not to cry.

Damn, but she had been trying to see the best of all of it. She’d been doing a wonderful job of keeping the valve of her emotions closed, and now, they were leaking out her eyes.

“I think I’m going to nap a bit,” she closed her eyes and snuggled against the hard side of the carriage in an effort to shut out the world.

When at last they reached London, Evangelina was whisked away to bathe and dress.

“I’m sorry things have to be so rushed,” Samira said. “If we thought it was safe to wait, we would, but we want to make sure things are settled before the Earl has any chance to try something.”

Evangelina nodded, slipping into the bath. “I understand.”

She bathed quickly, and then began to dress. In the mirror, she caught sight of her mother and Samira arguing quietly with each other. Evangelina furrowed her brow.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

Both heads lifted sharply.

“Nothing, darling,” said Samira, then spoke rapidly to her mother.

Finally, it looked like Samira lost whatever argument she’d been using, and she gave a smile to Evangelina before leaving the room with a promise to return soon. Patrice then dismissed the maid and continued to do up the dozens of buttons on the back of Evangelina’s dress herself. When they were alone, Evangelina felt the knots in her stomach worsen.

“What is it, Mama?” she asked.

Patrice smiled a little at her in the mirror. “Darling, do you know what happens between a man and woman on their wedding night?”

Evangelina’s cheeks went scarlet, but she nodded, a little relieved. She’d been expecting this, and had actually been rather surprised it hadn’t happened sooner. It made her smile to think Sam had been arguing that she ought to be able to talk to her sister, and Evangelina wondered if it would have been less embarrassing to speak to a sister rather than a mother.

“Yes, Mama,” Evangelina said. “I do read quite a lot.”

A few books had given her enough description that she knew the most of it, she thought. And the pictures of art and statues had given her a clear idea of how the anatomical portions worked. Still, she assumed it would be likely quite different with a man. With Ezekiel.

“Of course,” said her mother. “So, you are fully aware that he must put his–”

“Yes!” cried Evangelina, halting Patrice before she went on.

One medical textbook had used very bizarre but very clear language that, once she looked up the definitions to words like ejaculate, explained exactly what was coming. It had all sounded very clinical and more than a bit disturbing when she’d read that at sixteen, but when Zeke had kissed her, he’d named the strange feelings of yearning in her as desire, her fears eased a bit. That had been strange, but it had been very good, too. Then there had been the kiss, a soft, eager promise of things to come, and if that was the prelude, she could not wait to experience all that came after.

“I know, Mama,” Evangelina said, more calmly. “And I am not afraid. I am, I believe, ready.”

Patrice drew in a slow, deep breath. “If you’re sure, dear.”

Evangelina nodded. “Yes. And I trust Zeke. He is very good.”

Patrice smiled a little. “He is a good man, it’s true. But sometimes it is hard for men to understand things from a perspective not their own. He may never mean to hurt you, but he might do so anyway.”

Evangelina swallowed hard, somehow feeling that her mother was not only talking about physical pain. Evangelina realized she was crushing the skirt of her dress in her fists, and she released her coiled fingers immediately. She breathed slowly through her nose.

“Well, there’s nothing to be done for it now,” Evangelina said firmly. “So I suppose it’s time to go.”

Her mother patted her shoulder. “You look lovely, dear.”

Evangelina nodded. “Thank you.”

Zeke tapped his foot impatiently against the carpeted floor of the Marston drawing room. The afternoon light had turned the rich gold that was the prelude to evening. Conway had proved immensely helpful, having laid the groundwork for the special license before taking himself and his wife to Courtnay Park, so Zeke had met with a very easy path. Now, he had the license, the vicar, and the venue, but no bride. They had arrived back to the Marston residence earlier that afternoon, and that had given Zeke enough time to stop by the bachelor lodgings of his dearest friend, Andrew Montgomery. The man had not been there however, likely out carousing a bit even though it was midday. Andrew had a reputation to keep up and nothing like Zeke’s artistic pursuits to give him purpose, but he was a good sort and Zeke would have liked to have the man stand up with him.

As it was, it would be just the family to witness his nuptials, if they ever deigned to come down the stairs. Zeke checked the watch that hung from his waistcoat for the third time in a half hour. He thought he likely hadn’t checked that watch ten times in the three years he’d owned it – a gift from a particularly adoring paramour who decided his tardiness when Zeke came to see him was due to his not keeping a watch on his person. It hadn’t been; he’d ended things with Zeke within the month.

The cacophony in the hall heralded the arrival of his siblings before he laid eyes on them. Joel was twirling Thalia under his arm, Callista was engaged in animated conversation with Patrice, and his mother herded them all in like cats. Zeke launched up from his seat, and Dierdre caught sight of her son’s sudden movement. Smiling, his mother came over and gave him a soothing pat on the hand, placing the ring he’d just given Evangelina in his palm. He breathed slowly, tucking it back in his pocket, his heart starting to hammer against his chest.

Zeke wasn’t sure if he’d really expected to get here when he offered his hairbrained idea as a solution. He had somewhat been expecting that another idea would be found, but there hadn’t been, and here he stood. Drawing in a shaky breath, he moved to stand next to the minister while his family found their seats around the room. It was hardly ideal for a wedding, with Marstons splayed across sofas and settees, perched on chairs and even Joel sat on the floor. Still, it was not the location that mattered, or even, truly, the feelings of the groom. He was doing this to save Evangelina, to keep her safe, and any trepidations or elations he felt at the prospect were immaterial. The elations felt much scarier than the trepidations, though. How much he was looking forward to her being his wife, to making her his wife, made him a bit nervous.

Then, at the door to the room, Samira stepped through. Zeke was a little surprised, having not seen her since the wedding, how well and truly she glowed. She was luminous, the golden light on her copper skin, catching the warm glow of her dark eyes. She wore a pale purple dress, a bouquet clasped before her, bangles on her wrists. Her eyes met Zeke’s, and she gave a small but reassuring nod.

He was fairly certain Samira liked him, but she was afraid for her sister, and Zeke could well understand why. When Conway had courted his sister, if the majority of it hadn’t been done in secret, he was quite sure he would have had a large degree of trouble with it. Rowan had about had an aneurysm when he found out. Zeke was not the ideal for a gentle young lady who had little experience of the world and hadn’t even known what the feeling of desire was when he kissed her.

Oh, God, he groaned inwardly. She hadn’t even known what desire felt like. She wasn’t just an ingenue, a virgin, she was a…child. He’d heard people refer to her as such before, but with the woman’s body on her, it had been easy to ignore. Samira’s warning made a great deal more sense now, as he was standing up to marry the girl, seeing her as what she was, not just who she was. Evangelina was life and beauty, his muse, but she was also very young, extremely innocent, and about to be his.

His breath caught as Evangelina entered the room. She was on Rowan’s arm, and she was a vision. Her hair was pinned up, a few stray curls making a soft frame for her round face. Her animated eyes were wide and eager, her fawn skin looking richer, deeper brown when set off against the expanse of cream cotton that made up her dress. The gown itself was simple, a high neck with a wide collar that nearly slipped off her shoulders, the bodice tight and highlighting the womanly curves of her before splaying out to a broad skirt that brushed against Zeke’s legs as she stood before him.

“Mr. Marston,” she whispered.

Zeke’s belly clenched. He would have smiled, but he wasn’t sure how convincing it would be; everything was far too muddled to make any sense of it. She was a vision, an angel descended to earth before him, and anything he said would be inadequate. Zeke was a believer in words, in English as the language of Shakespeare, to communicate any feeling, but even the Bard was failing him at the moment.

“You look beautiful,” he tried, wincing to himself at not only the inadequacy, but the cliche.

To his surprise, she smiled as though he’d just dropped to his knees and recited the balcony scene of Romeo and Juliet to her.

“Thank you, sir,” Evangelina stepped flush with him, turning to face him.

Then again, there were benefits to a wife who had not much experience of the world. She hadn’t been told every cliche a thousand times so that they’d lost meaning. That would be a good thing, since apparently Zeke had misplaced his mind when Evangelina entered the room.

The vicar cleared his throat. “Shall we begin?”