Chapter 5: Marriage

Esther answered the questions the vicar asked her. Lord George answered his own. Lord George slipped a ring on her finger, and then he kissed her. The kiss was less arousing than the ones in the curricle had been, but she was very nervous. She was also married. She had wanted to be married to this man, but being married to him frightened her. They went off together in his coach with Dorcas and George’s man sitting across from them. Then they were in his family’s house.

The meal was heavy, and her stomach too nervous to do it justice. She was sitting next to Lord Lionel, and Lord George was far away. Dessert was a cherry tart. It was delicious, but she still had only one piece and difficulty swallowing all of that. There were three wines, but most of the toasts were to her or to her and to George. She had but two glasses. That was one more glass than she was used to at home and wine rather than ale. The drink didn’t seem to make her giddy. In fact, she was still nervous when she and George left the table.

“I love you, you know,” George said when they were outside her room.

“I love you, too.” She wondered if that were still true. Well, they were married, and it was too late for second thoughts.

Dorcas helped her to change in a room with many wardrobes but no bed. She went into the bedroom, and Dorcas helped her into bed.

A few minutes later, George came in wearing nightshirt and robe. He hung the robe onto the bedpost and climbed into bed beside her.

“Are you nervous?” he asked.

“Do I have reason to be?”

“I believe not, but you seem nervous. This time should not hurt, and countless women whose wedding nights did have managed to bear the pain.”

“What if I am not a good wife for you?”

He laughed. “I chose you, did I not?” he asked/

“Yes, milord.” \ “Yes, George.”

“Yes, George.” She should call him husband. That was the term Mother used towards Father. These aristocrats behaved so strangely, though.

“Well, if I chose you, and you do not suit, then it is my mistake. Why should it worry you? Now, if I am a poor husband to you, that is worth a worry. If I am, however, you should tell me how I fail your expectations.”

“Oh, husband, you could never fail expectations,”

“And your mother told you that we would join our bodies tonight, did she not?”

“Yes.” Even she could hear the tremor in her voice.

“Then I should fulfill that expectation,” he said.

Instead of coming over her and into her, though, he began by kissing her. That was much better than the one before the vicar. When their tongues met and his hand stroked over night gown covering her breast, she was more excited than she had ever been in the curricle.

Esther almost objected when he broke the kiss, but they were alone in a room, their room. He would kiss her again.

“This needs to come off,” Lord George said. He tugged at her night gown,

“Husband, may I blow out the candle?” Instead, he snuffed it.

She gulped, but she cooperated when he removed the gown. She pulled the covers up to her neck when he turned his back. When he turned towards her again, he was as naked as she

The covering blanket was no protection at all, and she was not certain she wanted protection. The kiss had his hairy chest pressed against her breasts, and fire burned through her. While continuing the kiss, Lord George stroked down from her breast to the hair between her legs. Although Mother had warned her of something like this she tensed and closed her legs. He inserted a finger anyway.

George could feel moisture, if less than he would have desired. Well, His countess was feeling nervous, but that was not all she was feeling. He bit down to control his lust. He wanted this girl for decades to come. He could control his desire long enough to please her and make that likelier.

Esther felt fear and wanted to resist. She felt guilt at considering resistance to her rightful husband. She also felt excitement. Well, Mrs. Jenkins had said that kissing anyone other than your husband was wrong, and this was her husband. She reached up and drew his head down for another kiss. The kiss was as exciting as ever, and the finger which had only been intrusive, began to move in an exciting way.

When George’s mouth left hers again, she almost tugged it back. It continued to her ear, though, and then to her neck. Every kiss was more exciting. Her body had been growing hot, and now the heat concentrated in her belly, right next to where his hand lay.

George kissed up Esther’s smooth, firm, young breast. When he reached the nipple, he sucked. At the same instant, or as nearly the same instant as possible, he rubbed the nubbin at the top of her cleft.

The heat which had been building inside Esther suddenly burst into flame. It shook her. “Oh!” she said, but she had felt so much more.

When the flame burned through her, it left a lovely feeling of pleasure.

George had been holding himself back by force of will. When he heard – and felt – his bride come to climax, that will shattered. He pulled her legs apart and climbed between them. The blanket was somehow separating them, and he flung it aside. Then he felt her softness now flowing with welcome. He fit himself to her and drove home. She was soft and warm and wet. She was also tight. He realized that this was but her second time, and he’d been a rapist.

“Are you all right?” He held himself still, feeling the warm sweetness clasp his cock.

“Yes.” She did not really hurt, certainly not so much as Mother had implied. Then, too, the pleasure had not completely dissipated, and the stretching from his entry, while surprising, was more exciting than painful.

“May I move?” She did not sound all right; she certainly did not sound as pleased as she had the moment before. On the other hand, he’d die if he could not move soon.

“Certainly,” Esther said. She was completely sure of only one thing about marriage, and that was that the husband had absolute control.

When he began moving in and out, she understood his wisdom. Lord George’s motions were slow, and they created the most luscious sensations within her.

George felt his desire increase with every stroke in her soft clasp. He tried to control himself to make these feelings last. They exploded, though, and after driving his cock deep into her matrix, so did he. The feel of his seed pumping through his cock and into his bride was the most satisfying feeling of his life so far.

That she had not shared his pleasure was clear. So, when he had climbed off, he began stroking her again. She turned her mouth towards his, and they kissed.

Esther noted that Mother had only mentioned the unpleasant parts. She had said nothing about the kisses. When her husband stroked her inner parts again, she enjoyed it. The tension rose again, but the last time had ended in pleasure. So she welcomed it.

George brushed the sheet and blanket off his wife’s teats with his mouth. Then he was again sucking a nipple. She tensed under his hand. He moved to the far teat, but kept stroking her nubbin.

When she shuddered and gasped, George smiled. He moved his strokes lower in her folds for a moment, but he kept sucking. Soon, his Esther was stiffening again. The sense that he could arouse this innocent girl was terribly arousing. He felt himself stiffen again. Even as a lad, he had never gone twice in a night.

“Do not expect this many nights,” he said as he climbed over her.

Esther was not prepared to expect anything. When his hands spread her folds and his organ entered gently instead of suddenly, all the sensations were arousing.

She enjoyed the smooth stretching of her inner parts. She appreciated the warm slow strokes within her. She felt loved by his hands on her breasts and honored by his voice cooing her name.

The heat spiraled once again, but it had not hurt her previously, and she paid more attention to the brush of his hairy chest against her sensitive nipples and the sense that she had one part of her husband moving inside her.

When the flames burst out and consumed her, they took her absolutely by surprise, and the sensation of herself contracting on something at once soft and hard shocked her. The shock was one of pleasure, though.

George felt his bride’s inmost parts clasp his cock warmly. He thrust, trying to bury himself within her. He shot gallons, or so it felt. When he felt himself collapsing, he strengthened his right arm for one more second. As a result, he fell to his left.

“You are wonderful,” he said when he could manage a breath.

“Oh, husband!

He managed to straighten the covers over them. When he pulled her into his arms, she came willingly. Indeed, she kissed him on her own volition. He had not slept in the same bed with another in his memory, but having her in his arms was astonishingly restful.

“Thank you, Husband,” Esther said.

“I think the thanks should go the other way. You are beautiful, and the most exciting woman that I have ever had.”

“Mother said that I should thank you afterwards, however painful the experience was. And that was not painful at all. It was quite pleasant.”

“Well,” George said, “It was not your first time. That is supposed to be painful. Did your mother know that we had shared a bed before?”

“Sometimes, I thought that she suspected. Father is convinced that you are after my money, his money, really. Mother believes him, but not with such certainty. Anyway, the first time hurt, but not so much as she suggested that this time would.”

“I suppose that the brandy helped. Also, nobody told you that it would be agony. I suspect that a woman feels more pain when she is told that pain is coming.”

“That may be,” Esther said. “But the pain was promised, and the pleasure was not. Really, this was nothing like Mother described.”

“I did not feed you that brandy to get you foxed, beloved. I merely wanted you to get warm.”

“And, then, I believed I would never be warm again. Now, I feel very warm.”

“Too warm?” George asked. He loosened the arm that had been hugging her close.

“Warmly loved.” She snuggled back into him and pulled his hand back to her breast.

It was a strange way to sleep, but she soon did.

She was on one side of the bed, though, and her husband was on the other when she woke. The fire was going briskly, and the room was cool but not that chilly. When she rose, she had nothing to don but the slight night gown. Immediately after she put it on, Lord George rose, dressed, and departed.

Esther was making the bed when she heard a knock at her door. She was in the revealing night gown which she did not want anyone to see. So she stood close to the door and asked, “Who knocks?”

“It is Dorcas, milady.”

She opened the door being careful that she could not be seen from the hall. Dorcas came in carrying a teapot, sugar bowl, cup, and saucer.

“Thank you for the tea.”

“Most ladies drink their first cup of tea while they are still in bed, milady. If you wish me to wake you earlier, you need merely tell me the time you wish me to come up with the tea. Now, your clothes are next door. Do you wish to go there and dress?”

Esther could tell that Dorcas had decided on “do you wish to” as a polite form of “you should.”

“When I finish making the bed, then look out and be certain nobody will see me.”

“Milady, you do not make the bed. Even I do not make the bed. Lady Anne has chambermaids who make the bed.”

Dorcas dressed her, as well. Esther knew, when she thought about it, that she must have been dressed when she was a baby. She could not remember that action, and could not imagine a non-invalid adult needing that service.

She had the dress she had been married in, the clothes she had soaked in the puddle, and older clothes. She decided that the dress that had been soaked had dried up fairly well. She wore it that morning.

Dorcas brushed out her hair, and she wore it in a simple knot.

“Good morning,” said Lady Anne. “Stephen will fill your plate if you tell him what you want.” The selection was generous. She decided to skip the porridge.

“George,” Lady Anne asked, “what is your budget for your wife’s clothing?”

“We have not discussed that, as yet.”

“Whatever it is, this quarter is an exception and can run over, can it not?”

“That would be reasonable.”

“Then, Lady Esther, allow me the pleasure of introducing you to my dressmaker. They take time, and we should probably start this morning. You are welcome to stay as long as you wish, but your husband has been making noises about returning to his home soon.”

“I wish to show her my estate, and to show her to those people,” George said. Actually, he wanted to have her to himself. Mother and Anne had been sweet, but he wanted Esther to experience him.

“Well, you do not plan to show her naked, do you? Eat your fill, Esther, ordering clothes is hungry work.”

After breakfast, Anne went up to her and George’s dressing room to see what Esther had brought with her.

“This dress is almost new,” Esther said, “although it has had an unfortunate history. The dress I wore for the wedding and the night gown I wore last night were purchased special for then. I also have these.”

“Milady needs a dressing gown, milady ... I mean Lady Esther needs a dressing gown, Lady Anne,” Dorcas said.

“Yes she does. Esther, I wore pastels for the rest of the Season after I was wed. That stretched the rules enough, and I was a Tarleton. These clothes, even if they looked new, are not what a countess wears. They scream ‘school girl,’ and you are a matron. Young woman, what is your name?”

“Dorcas, milady.”

“And before you were Lady Esther’s maid, you were?”

“Chambermaid for a solicitor’s family, milady.”

“No criticism intended, but I don’t think that qualifies you for this expedition. I think, Esther, that we’ll see whether our mutual mother in law will join us.”

Lady Fenhurst, the dowager countess of Fenhurst, joined them. “You should listen to Anne rather than me,” she told Esther. “You are much of an age, while I am a generation older and have been rusticating.”

Lady Anne asked about a traveling outfit and a dress for morning visits to be ready in four days. When she was told that this was possible, she suggested some other outfits to be sent on later. One was a riding habit.

“But, Lady Anne,” Esther said, “I do not ride.”

“Does your religion prohibit it?”

“Not in the least.” It was almost a necessity for preachers, and not considered wrong for women.

“Well, you do not know whether you shall enjoy riding until you have tried it, and you cannot try it without a riding habit.”

When she had selected styles and fabrics for the gowns, and other necessaries, they went to another dressmaker. Here, Lady Anne specified that a traveling outfit and a gown for dinner parties be ready in the four days. After those were selected, she specified other dresses including a ball gown.

“But Lady Anne, I do not dance, and dancing is frowned upon in Methodist teachings.”

“Well, you and George can work that out. But not all the women who attend balls dance at them. There are times for balls, and I am certain that there will be more than one in Suffolk. County society is less demanding than London society, and you can wear one gown to successive balls, can you not?” This last was directed to George’s mother.

“In Suffolk? Oh, certainly. You can even wear the same gown in different years. The women who keep the season in London are somewhat more demanding, but the others are content with a new gown every two or three years.”

Charles, Lady Anne’s brother, was guest at dinner to balance the sexes. He was her dinner partner with Lord Lionel on her other side.

“You are supposed to be drawing me out,” Lord Charles said.

“Drawing you out?”

“A lady at dinner asks her partner to tell about himself. She feigns fascination with him and his conversation. That may be why Anne assigned you to me. I am dull as ditchwater, and if you can draw me out, you will have great success with any other guest.”

“He is not all that dull, Esther,” Lord Lionel said, “Try him on whist. The Tarletons are vicious whist players, and he is acknowledged to be the family champion.”

Well, if she were to draw her companion out, she would draw him out. “Lord Charles, what is whist?”

He smiled. “It is a card game. You deal out the entire deck of 52 to four players. That puts 13 in each hand. The players are partners on two teams who sit across the table from each other.

“How much of that is new?” he asked.

“Every bit of it. The movement does not like playing cards. They are mostly used for gambling.”

“Many people think that whist is a form of gambling, as well. That is what fills my gaming purse. If the same pairs of partners play whist against each other every evening of the year, the luck of the cards determines who will win any hand. It has some effect on who will win a given night. The more skilled pair, if there is any detectable difference in skill at all, will win over the year.”

“That seems somehow worse. You say that you are not gambling because you are certain to win. Then you are cozening.”

“Not at all, except for my family, and we play for a penny a point, I play at White’s. Nearly everyone there knows that I usually win, and yet there is nearly always someone eager to play against me.”

“Why is that?”

“Because beating me is a challenge. Beating me is a challenge to my family, as well. One hand cannot win more than seven points, seven pence in the family. Twenty hands would be an extraordinarily long night, and that is less than half a pound. Still, ask Anne whether she would be proud to end a night a penny ahead of me were we on opposite sides of the table.”

“I fear, milord, that I shall never understand the aristocracy.”

“You need merely understand the Grants, milady,” Lord Lionel said. “Understanding the Tarletons is as unnecessary as it is impossible.”

“The man claims that you must understand the family into which you wed, but he does not claim to understand the family into which he wed,” Lord Charles said. Both men laughed.

Esther thought that not even understanding the Grants was a necessity. Understanding George Grant was. And she was as far from that as she had ever been.