Chapter 7

Part 5: Matrimony

With the arrival of July, the English summer gets into its swing. Amelia and James are married at Brinswark. While the threats from Amelia’s step-father and Lady Julia’s sister seem to have subsided she faces other challenges as she begins married life.

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The Dower House
Brinswark Estate
Nr. Eyam
Derbyshire
2/7/02
Dear Mama,

Joyous news! I am wed.

I cannot tell you how at one and the same time, how happy I am but how sad that you could not be with me for the wedding. After all you have done for me, I wish that you could have been here to see the whole thing. Papa really is a dinosaur. How miserable that he has not forgiven you for arranging this. He is obviously not over the failure of his plotting to frustrate it. Still, you must take comfort for having done the best possible thing for me.

I almost feel embarrassed to say what a wonderful event the wedding was but I cannot conceal how happy I am that now James and I are Mrs and Mr Amelia Jefferson. (Yes that is how we are referred to.) It was a simple ceremony conducted by the local vicar – a large jolly lady, red of face and with a bustling manner that engaged everyone in the celebrations through the proceedings. (It is probably as well not to mention that to papa – I suspect he would feel that a wedding carried out by a woman minister would be completely invalid.) James was so supportive through the whole event, following me up the aisle, carrying the train of my dress as is the custom here, and speaking out clearly with only the slightest nervous stutter when it came to the vows. He was the ideal groom. I could not be happier.

The reception and wedding breakfast was a very formal affair held in the sunshine on the lawn behind the Hall. It was beautiful weather. A crowd of well-wishers toasted us as “the happy couple” and there were many speeches of congratulations saying that James was a lucky man indeed. I felt a little uncomfortable to be lauded in this way, for I really have so little understanding of how married life will work. However, we shall see.

One of his previous girl-friends spoke saying James had better treat me well for she was sure that if he didn’t I would soon find another to better respect me. I was at once flattered for myself and embarrassed for him, for I know that he wants only to be the best husband imaginable. There was eating and drinking for quite some time and then a splendid band playing music for us all to dance to. I cannot tell you how proud I was, as the sun set, to take James by the hand and lead him on to the floor for our first dance together.

And then, it was over and we were on our way to our honeymoon escape.

I know you had warned me to expect a man to behave in a beastly manner at the prospect of consummating his marriage but things are rather altered here because men’s different status leads them to have different expectations of how they are required to behave. James was in every respect the perfect gentleman, treating me with great kindness and gentleness. We spent the happiest of nights together for our first as woman and husband. I can only thank you for helping me to find my soulmate. Everything is working out just as you had planned and I had hoped.

Your loving daughter, MRS Amelia Jefferson.

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The Dower House
Brinswark Estate
Nr. Eyam
Derbyshire
2/7/1902
Dear Lucy,
Well, the deed is done. I am now Mrs Amelia Jefferson. How sad that you could not be here. Of course, I had not expected to see my step-father, especially given the police interest in the attempt to kidnap James. It seems outrageous that he would have even imagined such a thing. Mama could not be here either, so I began my new life without my family or friends.

Papa must be completely taken up by his delusions about my marriage. I am convinced that he believes that I somehow engineered this whole relationship as a way of escaping his clutches. I didn’t – although I would have if I had thought of it. Clever Mama!

The wedding was as beautiful as any we had imagined. It was quite as splendid as any of our childhood fantasies of marrying some handsome prince although without the white charger and many turreted castle. The chapel at Brinswark Hall was decorated with boughs of spring flowers, swags of white satin and sprigs of apple trees – the symbol of the Jefferson family. My dress was perfect, a plain silk gown in white. With a pair of Miss Mifton’s eccentrically heeled shoes I stood a good four inches taller than James to the evident approval of his mother and others of his family (excepting, I am afraid, Lady Jefferson’s sister, who is still not reconciled to her sister’s decision). James himself seemed to spend the entire day staring doe-eyed at me. He seems to be completely captivated. When asked to vow that he would love, honour and obey, he stammered, “Oh yes,” before blushing and repeating the vicar’s words.

The whole thing was so perfect that it quite took my mind away from the apprehensive feelings I had been having about the physical implications of our marriage. Of course I understood what to expect (no one exposed to the coarse remarks of Brabant’s young men could be in much doubt), but I had wondered how would the practice match the theory. Such concerns were forgotten in the whirlwind of greetings, flowers, gifts, partying and the like.

It grieved me a great deal not to be able to share the day with you. I hope to have a daguerrotype picture to send you soon, so that at least you will see how we all looked and you will see what a handsome fellow James appeared in his wedding coat and breeches. I have never had a daguerrotype done before. Have you? We had to spend time being chivvied by the photographer’s assistant so as to create what was thought to be a pleasing group and then had to stand quite still for what seemed like an eternity. It did rather slow everything down with the photographer seeming to interrupt every step of the celebrations to arrange one or other group for yet another picture. She was really rather bossy, although I suppose you have to be in such a job. I asked James what he felt but of course he is so used to be bossed around by women that he had thought little of it.

Although the ceremony was a very traditional one in many ways, it would have been thought a most eccentric event in De Helder (quite apart from the fact that it was conducted by a woman minister – yes, such things are the norm here).

Lady Jefferson was accompanied by her husband, Howard, but he was restrained as James had been when I first met him. Indeed it seems de rigueur for the men to be silenced in public. - the groom is excused at weddings as he must, of course, make his vows. There was not another man at the event left free to converse. This does have the benefit of preventing those tedious male monologues that were often a feature of social events back home. Although sometimes it can be interesting to hear a male point of view, I did feel this was quite an improvement. Mostly the men were left sitting dumbly at their tables while the women chatted in groups. Unsurprisingly, Lady Jeffersons sister, Cora, was not present. I must have been introduced to two dozen or more of Lady Jefferson’s friends. They were all charming to me and expressed their best wishes for our union. I confess that I hardly remember any of them but I did meet some new friends of my own age. Zinawe Ndoso and Monique Stephane are both, like me, newcomers to the country and trying to come to terms with the social system here. We have promised to stay in touch. I was also delighted to meet Alice Couzens, a very dynamic individual!. She is apparently an influential woman who advises companies on their international trade, while her mother runs the company of engineers that was responsible for the Hyde Park monorail and many other technical wonders. You could not imagine women holding such positions in Brabant, but she talked about her work as though it was completely natural for a woman. (Actually – this was quite a welcome diversion after listening to many of Lady Jefferson’s tales which mainly revolve around the problems of life running a country estate!) She seemed amused and intrigued by my tales of Brabant, so perhaps we will meet again.

I had not been prepared for the astonishing array of wedding gifts. There was almost everything that you could imagine we will need for our lives together. Heaven only knows where we shall put it all as the Dower House is quite small, only just big enough for the two of us and the staff. Some of the presents were quite amusing – or at least I think they were intended that way. One was a pair of handcuffs and a riding crop with a card saying “What every blushing bride needs”! I am sure that James needs no such encouragement.

As James and I left for the hotel, Lady Jefferson pressed an envelope into my hands and said, “You will need this tonight.” I was surprised and puzzled to find it contained a small key and wondered what it might be for. As it turned out, all was revealed later.

There was a magnificent steam-powered, chauffeur driven, open tourer to carry James and myself away from the reception. To speed through country lanes with my new husband’s head resting adoringly on my shoulder was quite the dream; though in my fantasies it had always been my head on the man’s shoulder but never mind.

The hotel was a romantic ideal of a small country house; half timbered with red pantiles on the roof and dark oak beams everywhere. It was not as grand as the Hall obviously but it had an intimate feeling very appropriate to the occasion. The bridal suite with its four poster bed and exquisite plaster pargeting on the ceiling was as perfect a venue as could be imagined for a wedding night.

James was shy at first but Beckworth had warned me that this was likely to be the case. She had advised me to be considerate but firm, taking the initiative in guiding him to bed. I must admit that, having had a little too much to drink at the reception, I was probably more enthusiastic than is becoming in a new bride and was quite determined that we should consumate our marriage there and then. I was soon laughing with James as I pulled at his shirt to try to get him out of it. James took it in good part which I took to be an encouraging sign. He was a little more resistant when I made for his trousers and I was soon to discover why.

His manhood had been locked in a metal cage. It was clearly causing him some discomfort as his member was swelling in response to our situation and he gasped, “Please, did Mummy give you the key? I have been locked like this for a month in preparation for tonight.”

It was only then that the significance of the key in the envelope from Lady Jefferson dawned upon me. It took quite some effort first to find it (the envelop had got pushed into one corner of my handbag) and then to put it to use with James encouraging me all the way.

They say that at your marriage there should be “something old, something new, something borrowed and something blue”. In my case the “something blue” was my poor husband’s balls from being deprived of release for so long – if you will excuse the vulgarity. He was so grateful for my intervention with the key and his cock sprang to attention enthusiastically at being freed from its cage. I lay back ready to accept its attentions as Mama had counselled me but James begged that I should straddle him and go on top. This was an unfamiliar idea for me but I thought I should try to please him and, to be honest, I was certainly more eager than a modest girl should be.

Well, it was far from un-pleasurable. How it compares to other methods I cannot (yet) say but, truly, the enjoyment brought about by joining with my husband was delightful, albeit not of as long a duration as I had anticipated and without any overwhelming sensations for me. To my disappointment, James’ interest in continuing to pleasure me waned rapidly with his climax. I suspect there is more to be had from the activity than that; otherwise what would all the fuss in romatic novels be about? No matter, I am sure we will get the hang of it with practice. It does seem that it is all rather more complicated than Mama had led me to believe, though.