Despite the rosy flush from the carriage ride the walk through the hallways gave Caroline time to be nervous. She had always taken pains to look as presentable as possible and now she most certainly wasn't. She had to keep reminding herself that it was her wedding day, that she was married and this fell in the range of things now allowed, that they didn't know anyone and wouldn't be here long enough to get to know anyone. Add to that the fact that Evander seemed like a bull charging down the hallway focus on just one thing - the bedroom and what would happened there, and Caroline's nerves were back in full force. Which she hated, because she didn't like to be nervous.

It seemed to take forever to get their luggage settled and the attendants to leave - which only added to Caroline's nerves. Surely if Evander was so focused on the task ahead he would have shooed them out. Did he not want this after all? His stuttered words only made matters worse, but Caroline refused to cower. When she was nervous she steeled herself and faced the challenge, this was no different. Okay, it was completely different, but...

"I don't think I could eat a thing." Caroline heard herself admitting, her cheeks warming for another reason entirely and her voice quieter and more...girly? Oh, he was just going to think she was some silly girl, she had to do this right. But how?

  

Evander had made it halfway to the window before he changed his mind about opening it; now he paced back into the centre of the room, still determinedly avoiding her gaze. The damned carriage ride had seemed a dream – why was it that it had taken until this moment for everything to sink in and seem real?

She wasn’t hungry. So, no supper to delay it. And no chance for Evander to pour himself another drink – he could hardly do that right in front of her, parched as his throat suddenly felt. And it was not like he hadn’t had enough today – any more and he would feel ill from it, probably, so perhaps it was for the best that he was only feeling slightly light-headed.

He finally glanced at Caroline and her still-flushed cheeks and at that precise moment had a sudden, intense fear that he was going to faint. Faint, on his own wedding night. The fear itself was almost enough to see him faint: his own face heated up at the threat of it, and the lifetime of lingering mortification that would inevitably haunt him, and –

Evander tore off his formal necktie and loosened the top of his collar to have enough air to breathe, and in the same heartbeat pulled off his travelling coat, jacket, and started, slightly manically, on the buttons of his waistcoat; until he remembered Caroline was standing there, and that he probably looked out of his mind – so he lurched forwards and grasped her around the waist again instead, kissing her breathlessly as if they could pick up from where they had left off.

---

  

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Evander was pacing as if he were a creature stuck in a cage. Caroline's throat felt dry as she watched him, trying not to think of the implications, she refused to believe that he had realized he didn't want her after the day they had. No. He loved her...

As if to accent his impatience he began to abruptly take off his clothes. First his necktie, a patch of skin was exposed. Then his coat was gone and then he was working at his buttons -

Then he entirely gave up and pulled Caroline to him as if he could not wait another moment. Nerves sparked in her stomach, pushing against her, but she ignored them. Because suddenly it was like they were in the carriage again. There were no eyes to watch them, no one to tell them this was not acceptable. No, it was acceptable, it was expected, and oh, how warm his hands were against her. Her heart pounded against the confines of her corset and her blood felt like it was rushing, her fingers tingled and she kissed him back - forgetting for a moment that she had ever been nervous. How could she be when he was kissing her like this? When her body was so warm? When all she wanted to do was press closer into his embrace. So she did.

Caroline wrapped her hands over his shoulders, feeling the broad expanse under the fabric of his vest and the thinner fabric of his shirt. She stepped closer to him, feeling his chest against her own. He was so warm, so comforting, so.... her's.

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   Angelica Selwyn

If he had been worried she might protest, or seem – reluctant, or – have thought better of all this now she was left entirely alone with him, her closeness and her arms about his shoulders said otherwise.

They had never been this close, not even that day in the rain, and he still wanted to draw her closer, but if he tried to pull her any further she’d be lifted off her feet entirely – and he was still a little too impatient, and there was still the issue of too many clothes. He freed his hands for long enough to finish pulling off his waistcoat – with a slight mental wince at having to toss it aside without deliberately hanging it somewhere – but rather than start on his shirt he returned his hands to Caroline, roaming over her body as he kissed her again. At first this was a thrill; and then he started fiddling with the buttons and found those must be deceptively decorative because he was making no progress at undressing her, and eventually he had to pull back with a furrowed brow and a frown. “Caroline,” he murmured, a note of frustration in his voice, “how –”

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The warmth of Evander's hands retreated from her and an involuntary mew of protest escaped Caroline's lips, even as she watched him toss aside his vest. But then they returned, searching, feeling Caroline moaned against his lips, feeling his fingers working at her buttons.

It took her a moment to realize what he was saying but when she did it dawned on her. The dress had been created for a maid to help her out of, she had a whole troussea full of nightgowns for this occasion. Apparently no one had expected the two to actually have to undress her. Were they doing something wrong? The thought passed through her mind. But she didn't care. She just wanted his hands back on her, his lips caressing her, his body tight against her.

A blush colored her lips as she whispered in horror, "They sewed me in."

  

For a moment, he could only stare at her in utter incomprehension.

“Oh, for the love of Merlin,” Evander moaned, when it finally sank in. Gritting his teeth, he looked more closely at the fabric, finding some of the thread and pulling cautiously at it to snap a few of the stitches by hand. “It’s fine,” he assured her, though he huffed slightly as he battled with the seams. This was hardly the best way to go about it – a severing charm would no doubt have been more efficient, or better yet, a maid to help her – but every other method involved stepping away or waiting an age or rummaging about for his wand in the jacket he had already disposed of, and Evander simply didn’t dare, in case it went the way of their interrupted carriage activities and he froze up again and ruined it. They had already come too far to turn back now.

...And it was not as though she would have much use for this dress now that they were married, Evander considered, as he ripped open another section of it rather less neatly. (There was an obvious tear in the lace now, and a button or two hanging off uselessly – damned buttons – but hopefully Caroline was too preoccupied to pay this much mind.)

He was soon too preoccupied to pay it any notice at all, because he had finally tugged the dress off her, letting it pool out around her feet. Ha! There was still her corset and chemise to contend with but, keen not to lose momentum, Evander toed off his shoes, nudging them aside without looking, and began to guide them both towards the bed, heart thudding in his chest – at which point he met Caroline’s gaze and suddenly faltered. Maybe he had been doing this all wrong, and maybe she hadn’t protested yet because he hadn’t simply given her time to. “Is this – are you – do you – ?” he started, fumbling over the words and finding no elegant way to ask it; but what he meant was is this alright?

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Caroline was quite certain she had never heard a single curse cross the lips of this particular Mr. Darrow - his brother, her brothers, the sailors she knew, but not Evander. The realization made her think she had done something wrong, which in turn made her cheeks turn a deeper red than the heat between them had. She should have insisted on functional buttons or a dress that was easier to remove. Or any number of other things. She opened her mouth about to apologize but her husband seemed to realize her discomfort and was assuring her it was alright almost immediately. She could feel the warmth of his fingers as he found the seam that Hope had sewn in for her just that morning, tugging at the thread. Embarassment alleviated Caroline just wanted his lips on her's again. But she heard the tearing of lace, the buttons hitting the floor - and instead of being upset (one could always buy another gown after all) it only made her feel more desired and strengthened her own desire for Evander.

Finally the gown pulled about her feet and as he kicked off his shoes she stepped out of the gown and her own shoes and back into Evander's arms, leaving her no time to be embarassed that he saw here in her undergarments (after all, she was still clothed, it wasn't like she was naked). She hardly noticed where he nudged her until the side of her leg hit the bed.

The nerves were gone now, only the heat and hunger between them. Ever protective of her he paused to make sure she was okay, "Yes." Caroline breathed before capturing his lips and pressing herself closer against him, demonstrating just how close she wanted him to be to her.

  

There was very little chance to slow down, after that. Evander hadn’t expected her to be quite so enthusiastic – if ever she had reason to be as anxious as he was about anything, it was here – but her answer was unequivocal. For his part, all his remaining energy for thought was expended on wresting open her corset hooks and then, clumsily, the rest of his clothes; after that, he had to stop thinking, if only to push away the lingering guilt at the idea this was something illicit, because it wasn’t. Not now, at any rate; he had repressed the thought of it long enough. Now this was expected. Encouraged. They were – allowed to enjoy it, even. They were married. Husband and wife.

And – he supposed – he loved her. The notion only came to him afterwards, once he had caught his breath beside her, lying there a little too warm in these sheets. The French pillows were too soft. Caroline’s hair was loose on hers, messier than he had ever seen it. And he loved her. Had he ever told her that? Had he even thought it? It felt as though it had slipped his mind on every occasion prior. Not that love was a prerequisite for marriage, of course, had not ever needed to be factored in, but... he had not just begun being in love with her today, had he? Surely not. So it must have been there, somewhere... Evander wracked his brain, rattled through all they had ever said to each other and came up empty, wondered whether he ought to break the silence and say it now.

But it was late, and they were both deservedly exhausted, and there was an early morning start marked on the itinerary. There would be other opportunities to say it. Better moments. And she – oh, she must already know.

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The hunger grew but despite that Caroline felt shy when the last of her clothes disappeared, it was the first time a man had looked at her, but Evander moved them ever forward and she followed.

Afterward Caroline wondered if that was it. The ... feelings had built but then it ended much too soon leaving her wanting - wanting what Evander had had. She could see it in his face and wished for the same sated look. Instead she found herself wishing it had continued. But one glance at Evander and she could tell he was tired, there would be time to practice later, time to try again. A whole life time together to try.

For a moment as he caught his breathe Caroline wondered what she ought to do. It was weird now, being able to touch him, to kiss him, to be held. There was no glancing over shoulders, nor any need for her to wish him to be nearer when he refused. So she curled into his side, enjoying the feel of him against her and looked up at him, watching his face. She didn't need to ask if she had done everything right - she was well assured that she had, but still she felt the moment needed something to be said. And the frustrating part was she normally knew what that was, but in this moment she felt unsure.

"Evander-" Caroline placed a gentle hand on his chest feeling the rise and fall of his chest as it slowed. She moved slightly to land a kiss on his cheek, "I-" How did she say this? "You've made me very happy." Not with what had just happened, but with everything. With their vows, the wedding brunch, the carriage ride. But beyond just that, it was his letters, his protectiveness, his unflagging concern and kindness. And now she could tell him so without worrying of how it might be percieved, because he was her husband. Her husband.

  

Oh. Well, then. It was not that you’ve made me very happy wasn’t a pleasing thing to hear – he was glad of it, if it was true – but that it didn’t quite match what he had in his chest. That settled it, then: he could hardly answer that sentence with I love you. It would be proportionally wrong. She would think him ridiculous. Entirely ridiculous. He could see it now.

So she had kissed him on the cheek, so she was lying very close, her hand on him, her bare skin warm, and everything felt quiet and soft and safe – but now Evander was in his head again. And so, whatever she’d said, he felt a flicker of unease, or embarrassment, or something else; he managed a smile in gratitude, but that was all. Maybe it was better they didn’t talk now, after all; maybe it was better he found some distance before they did. I love you – there was no use in putting that on her, was there?

Evander raised a hand to brush a strand of hair off her face for her, used his other to hold her there beside him. “Caroline,” he only said, as gently as he dared, “you should sleep.”

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His arm was wrapped around her, making her feel safer than she ever had in her life, despite the newness of lying next to someone fully unclothed. But her shyness in that was gone, as was her maidenhood. The gentle brush of his hand tucking away a piece of her hair had her lips tilting into in involuntary smile. Evander was right of course, she should sleep, but she was wide away, ever emotion of the day alive and tingling through her. Caroline opened her mouth as if to protest - likely it would only sound childish - but then looked at him. Perhaps it was he who was tired, who needed the sleep. How was a wife supposed to act in such moments? Caroline supposed she ought to let him sleep, but ... it had been their first time, they were man and wife, surely he ought to say something more than you should sleep. And so as coyly as she could with such childish words she admitted, "But I'm wide awake."

Really she should have just let him sleep and reveled in the feel of his arm about her, his chest beside her, and watching his face. She had never seen him sleep before, never seen peace fall over it. It was always so worried, so concerned for everything and everyone - and for herself. What would it be like when he relaxed and fell asleep? When those worries were miles away from his dreaming countance?

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   Evander Darrow

It need not be said that this was a situation to which Evander was entirely unused. The most long-standing relationship he had had in his life was with his own habits; there was not a day that passed without undertaking a dozen usual routines, and no day in his recent memory that had shaken off the dust of his life quite like this one. He had accounted for the disruption of a honeymoon, to be sure, but somehow Evander had expected... well, for there to be a wedding, and then for his life to settle back in order, much as it had used to be. Most certainly with the addition of Caroline in it: but he had not previously considered that he would have to oblige her habits where they did not match his.

That to say, he would have been quite satisfied to lie in silence and shut his eyes and pretend to sleep, even if her continued closeness in the bed was distraction enough to wreak havoc on the onset of sleep. Caroline, however, was apparently wide awake, and Evander loosened his hold on her a touch to look better at her. He eyed her warily, wondering whether it would be overscrupulous of him to remind her that they had an early start tomorrow, if they were to finish seeing Paris before they moved on to the next city. He couldn’t fathom how she still had energy, after the whole stressful day, and after that – but he didn’t want to disappoint her, so, for her sake, he managed a slow, indulgent smile. “And what would you have us do instead?”

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   Caroline Darrow

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His arm loosened and Caroline felt him shift to look at her. She studied his face, quite sure he disgreed with her sentiments and rather wished to sleep than to humor her, but then a smile broke out upon his lips. It was slow and almost teasing but Caroline didn't mind. "Well...." She ran her hand along his arm, her gaze following the gentle path of her fingertips, "I could think of a few things." The words became a mumble on her lips, much less sultry than she had intended.

In that instance Caroline's stomach rumbled and she found herself saved from any attempts of something she was clearly out of her league in. "Perhaps, supper?" They had after all, entirely forgotten about supper upon their entry into the room and well... Caroline hadn't really eaten much throughout the day. Besides, hadn't one of the staff offered to bring their supper up to them?

  

He supposed he ought to be relieved, if anything, that she seemed still to have an appetite there; far worse if she had clearly not enjoyed it at all, and dreaded the next time. Still, her enthusiasm was the smallest bit alarming: Evander tried not to consider it too closely, lest he turn out to be the one made apprehensive.

And, in spite of her fingers tracing suggestively up his arm, her actual reply spoke of safer appetites. Evander almost laughed in surprise. “Yes,” he said, and never mind that they weren’t dressed and the room was a veritable mess of clothes and he had never before thought it appropriate to eat in bed; supper was a small request. He shifted up and made to get out of bed to ring the servants’ bell. “Yes, I think that can be arranged.”

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   Caroline Darrow

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