The Virgin in the Rake’s Bed by Ava MacAdams

Epilogue

There was much excitement at Westwick Manor that morning, for it was the day of the wedding blessing and Catherine had risen early to make her preparations. Rebecca and Samantha had arrived first thing, and they were joined by Ian’s mother, who had come down from Ashcourt Park for the occasion.

“We are so happy to be here with you, Catherine,” Samantha said. She was sitting on a chair by the window, watching as Rebecca tied Catherine’s hair up into a French bun.

“I do not know why you do not allow the maid to do all this for you. You two ladies should not have to do this,” Ian’s mother remarked, but the three women smiled at one another.

“We have been here before, on each other’s wedding days, that is,” Rebecca replied.

“Which is why we were so upset to discover Catherine was to elope,” Samantha said.

“I must say, if I had known, I would have felt the same,” Ian’s mother said, and she smiled at them.

“Would you check on Ian? I fear he is quite nervous, far more so than the day we made our vows,” Catherine said, and the dowager baroness nodded.

“I will go at once. I am just so glad to be here,” Ian’s mother replied, and she left the room, reminding them that the carriages would soon be arriving.

“I like her,” Rebecca said, and Samantha nodded.

“It is clear she wishes to make amends for the past,” she said.

Ian’s mother had arrived the day before, bringing with her all manner of gifts and the insistence that Catherine and Ian join her at Ashcourt Park to take the country air immediately after the blessing.

“She has been nothing but good to us, and I believe she has every desire to make amends for the past,” Catherine replied.

Rebecca stepped back to admire her handiwork, and Samantha clapped her hands together in delight. “You look beautiful, Catherine, truly you do,” she said, as Catherine rose to her feet.

“You have both been extremely kind in helping me,” she said, glancing out of the window to where several open carriages had just pulled up in front of the house.

This being a blessing, rather than the day itself, Catherine and Ian were to travel together to the church, eschewing the usual tradition of separation. It was to be a procession, with Ian’s mother, Rebecca, and Samantha following in the carriage behind, and the other guests waiting them at the church.

“Then it would be remiss of us to allow you to be late. Come along, we must be leaving,” Rebecca said, and the three women joined arms, delighting in this most wonderful of moments.

Downstairs, they found Ian waiting for them with his mother. He was dressed in a new frock coat, a neatly pressed shirt, and a red cravat at the neck. He looked very handsome, his shoes highly polished, and a white carnation in his buttonhole. He smiled at them, and Catherine ran to meet him.

“I thought this day would never come,” she exclaimed, kissing him on both cheeks.

“I feared that, too,” he replied, and his mother tutted.

“Do not dwell on the past – that is a lesson for us all. Come now, are we not due at the church very soon?” she asked.

They made their way out of the house and down the steps to the waiting carriages. The servants had all turned out to see them off, and there were applause and congratulations as Ian helped Catherine up into the carriage, before taking his seat at her side. The others climbed into the carriage behind, and the procession set off along the drive and out onto the street. There was no more hiding now, no more secrecy or pretense. Catherine and Ian were in love, and now the whole world would know it.

“When we pretended out betrothal, did you ever think it would come to this? Did you ever imagine it?” she asked, and he laughed and shook his head.

“Not for a moment. I thought it merely a ruse, a pleasant game, but then I found my feelings altering, and the pretense become a truth. There could be no return from that,” he said, and she smiled.

“How glad I am to hear you say that. It was a pleasant game, but the truth is far better,” she replied.

“And did you think it more than a ruse? Did you intend for this?” he asked, and she shook her head.

“There was something of fate attached, of that, I am certain,” she said, and he laughed.

“Fate which brought me through the library door?” he said, and she smiled.

“And into my arms,” she replied.

A small crowd had gathered outside the church to welcome them, and the bells were peeling out a merry song in anticipation of the blessing. It was a fair day, breezy but fine, the sun bursting through wisps of cloud above, and Ian helped Catherine down from the carriage, the curate hurrying to greet them in a billowing white surplice.

“My Lord, welcome to you both. How pleased I am to see you,” he said, and Ian shook his hand.

“You must forgive the scandal of our wedding, but we are here to set matters straight before God and before our friends,” he said, and the curate bowed.

“And so, it shall be. Come now, we shall not delay,” he said, and together, arm in arm, Catherine and Ian followed him into the church, with their friends and family following behind.

* * *

“O Merciful Lord, and heavenly Father, by whose gracious gift mankind is increased: We beseech thee, assist with thy blessing these two persons, that they may both be fruitful in procreation of children, and also live together so long in godly love and honesty, that they may see their children Christianly and virtuously brought up, to thy praise and honor; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen,” the curate pronounced, and the congregation replied in kind.

It had been a simple ceremony, and Catherine and Ian had renewed the vows they had made before the blacksmith in Gretna Green. Whilst she felt no different in the promises she reaffirmed, to do so in front of her family and friends meant something more to Catherine, and at last she had got her wish of a wedding just like that of Rebecca and Samantha. The curate stepped back and Ian turned to kiss her, putting his arms around her and embracing her.

“There, my darling, a true wedding, all that you desired,” he whispered.

She took his arm and, as the organ played, he led her down the aisle to much acclaim and congratulation. Rebecca and Samantha stood with Nicholas and Norman, and they both had tears in their eyes as Catherine and Ian passed by.

“Thank you,” Catherine whispered, and they both beamed at her.

“I never thought I would see this happy day,” Ian’s mother exclaimed, as she met them at the door of the church.

“We are only glad you could be here,” Catherine replied, and Ian nodded.

“The past is behind us, mother, truly it is, and now we shall all look forward to the future together,” he replied, and put her arm in his and kissed him on the cheek.

“And we shall have such a delightful time at Ashcourt Park, truly we shall,” she replied.

As they emerged from the church, the sun was shining, and a carriage was waiting to take them back to Westwick Manor. There was to be a celebratory dinner, and dancing, too, so that there could be no doubt this was the wedding Catherine had always dreamed of. She had spoken often of her indifference at remaining a spinster, but in her heart of hearts, this was the dream she had always harbored, a dream now come true.

“I think we have been more fortunate than others,” she said, as Ian helped her into the carriage.

“How so?” he asked, and she smiled.

“Well, have we not had two weddings?” she asked, and he nodded.

“And are we not to have two wedding nights, also?” he replied, and she blushed.

“Then we must slip away early,” she replied, “for I would not wish to be too tired for such delights.”

The procession now made its way back to Westwick Manor, joined by the other guests, all of whom were invited to the celebrations. In their absence, the servants had been busy, and Redbrand had directed operations so that now the dining room was prepared for a lavish feast and the ballroom decked for the dancing which would follow.

“And might I offer my personal congratulations, sir,” he said, welcoming them into the house.

“And I hope you and the other servants will join us in a celebratory glass of claret,” Ian said, and the butler bowed.

“You are too kind, sir,” he replied, leading them into dine.

To say that Catherine was happy, surrounded by her friends and new family, would be to do her feelings a disservice – her feelings were far greater than that. Catherine was happier than she had ever felt before, caught up in the delight of a moment she knew would never be repeated. How fortunate she had been to experience the joys of marriage not once, but twice – to the same man. Their celebration at Gretna Green had been small and intimate, their vows made before strangers, though no less poignant for it. Now, in the company of their friends, they had committed once more to the promises they had made, and publicly declared their love for one another. She could not have been happier, safe in the knowledge that this was true love and nothing less.

“Mother, will join us here?” Ian said, ushering his mother to the long table laid at one end of the dining room for the bride and groom and their intimate others.

Catherine smiled, and the dowager Baroness seemed visibly moved by her son’s act of charity. “If you desire it,” she replied, and Ian nodded.

“I do desire it. Today is a new beginning. We have put the past behind us and stepped out into a brave new world, one in which I wish for no less than those I am reconciled with to be a part of our lives, and those we are estranged from to be forgotten. What do you say, Catherine?” he asked, turning to her and smiling.

Catherine could think of nothing she would rather than such a new beginning. Her father had offered no attempt at reconciliation, only the promise of keeping matters of lineage to himself, and Rickard would never trouble them again, following his crimes. This too was a new beginning, one in which she could choose whom she associated with and whom she did not. She smiled back at Ian and nodded.

“I think it is an excellent idea, and I for one am very glad to have a mother-in-law such as you,” she replied, offering the dowager Baroness her hand.

It was a happy company which sat down to dine on all manner of good foods – a goose being the centerpiece – and following the toasts, the company made its way to the ball room, where there was dancing late into the night. When the last dance was over, Ian took Catherine by the hand, and they slipped away across the hallway and up the stairs to their chambers. Their wedding night may have been past, but this, too was a night on which both their passions were aroused, and as Ian closed the door, he turned the key, and took Catherine in his arms.

“I love you so very much,” he said, kissing her on the lips, and she put her arms around him and drew him close into her embrace.

“And I love you, too, with all my heart,” she replied, their lips pressed together again, their hands searching one another out.

The room was lit by candles, a fire burning in the hearth, and Ian led Catherine to the large, canopied bed they now shared, the curtains pulled across the windows, so that it was as though the whole world was shut out, and all that mattered was this moment when at last they could be alone.

“A second wedding night,” he said, coming to lie next to her on the bed, his hand tracing a gentle line across her breasts and down the length of her dress.

“But no less perfect, more so, because now there is no fear, only delight,” she said, bringing her finger to his lips.

He smiled at her, leaning forward to kiss her, their bodies now pressed close together. Catherine could feel his arousal, the delight of his touch heightening her own desires, and she pulled at the ties about her bodice, her dress slipping open, as his lips pressed against her neck. She gave a sigh, lying back as he searched her out, his touch warm and gentle against her skin, a shiver of delight running through her at his caress. There were no words to express the love she felt for him, nor the gratitude she had for the man who had rescued her from such adversity and brought her to this perfect moment.

“I would marry you a thousand times over,” he whispered, his lips now tracing a trail across her breasts and down to her pleasure.

The touch of his tongue sent her into ecstasy, and she gasped, her hands on his head as he searched her out, her back arched and his hands now running over her thighs. She could barely contain the feeling rising in her, a heat searing through her entire body, and she let out a cry, desirous only of more. Now, he moved his lips back to her breasts, then brought them to her lips, rising over her, the tip of his sex touching her pleasure as he eased forward, and their bodies were as one.

“And I would marry you a thousand times over, as well,” she replied, gazing up at him, her heart overflowing with love.

He put his arms around her, arched over her, kissing her on the neck. And now Catherine felt that familiar sensation building. It grew stronger with every movement, filling her with such intensity that again she gasped. His breathing was growing faster, and with a sudden cry he gave way to his pleasure, just as a searing heat filled her whole body, each shuddering with the ecstasy of their shared pleasure. Together they lay for a moment, breathless, and Ian rolled onto his back, Catherine running her fingers across his chest.

“I want every night to be like this,” he said, and laughed.

“Then it can be,” she replied, putting her arm across him and resting her head on his shoulder.

He put his arms around her, and she closed her eyes, the candles around the room now beginning to gutter one by one so that eventually only the glow of the fire in the hearth remained. She thought back to that first moment of seduction in the library of the Somerset residence, to her own obstinacy toward marriage, and to the game which had suddenly turned into a truth.

“We have been on quite a journey together,” he said, as though mimicking her thoughts.

“All the way to Scotland and back,” she replied.

“But not just that. Have we not both found the love we so desired, even if we did not know we desired it?” he asked.

“I knew I wanted something, but my experiences of men had made me wary. I thought being a spinster was preferable to what others were proposing or me, and I suppose your rules acted in much the same way. We neither of us were prepared for the discovery of true love,” she replied.

“But now we have found it, and is it not just the most delightful feeling?” he said, turning to kiss her.

“The very best of feelings, the only feeling I ever want again,” she said, and as they lay there, Catherine knew she had found what she had always sought and so long believed would not be hers.

Love was not a matter of playing by rules, nor could it be forced or cajoled. Love came naturally, and at the right time – even if by surprise – and whilst a ruined reputation had begun their affair it had ended in the simple fact of two souls in love, a love which was surely meant to be.

“And what now?” he asked, her, yawning and turning to face her in the gentle glow of the embers in the hearth.

“Now we have the whole world at our feet,” she replied, “and who knows what delights the future will hold…

The End?