she loathed the long corset that for some mad reason she was supposed to wear. It was so long and tight, she could only take tiny little steps. How she hated the cold, slippery feel of her white silk petticoat.
It was a gloomy, depressed couple who finally made their vows to one another in the family chapel. It was a grim silent couple who sat side by side at the wedding breakfast and listened to the interminable speeches. Dolph, elated with wine, and blissfully unaware of the prevailing chilly atmosphere, made a speech about how he had actually believed there was a country called Brasnia, told them about the bears, hiccupped and laughed immoderately, toasted the “happy” bride and groom, and then sat down, heartily pleased with himself, not knowing that everyone who might have begun to forget about Princess Felicity of Brasnia was now remembering the disgraceful masquerade all over again.
Then Felicity was led upstairs to be changed into her carriage clothes. She looked desperately at Miss Chubb, dying to cry out for help, but that lady was smiling all over her large face and saying she was sure Felicity must be the happiest lady in the land.
Felicity's sisters hugged her and begged her to call on them when the honeymoon was over. Her clothes had been chosen for her by the duchess. A fussy carriage dress of brown velvet was put on over that constricting corset. The carriage gown was fussily tucked and gored and flounced. It was topped up by a navy straw bonnet shaped like a coal scuttle.
Lord Arthur was waiting inside the carriage when she made her way out. Felicity hugged her sisters, hugged Miss Chubb, and hugged Dolph, who was still laughing drunkenly about the bears, climbed in the carriage, and sat down primly on the seat beside her husband.
The carriage moved off.
Silence.
The rain drummed on the carriage roof, and the wheels whizzed through the puddles on the drive.
“Well, that's that,” said Lord Arthur at last.
Felicity said nothing.
“Do you know,” said her husband, “I think you are wearing quite the most horrible hat I have ever seen.”
Felicity tore it off, threw it on the floor of the carriage, drummed her heels on it, and burst into tears.
“Here now… now.” He pulled her into his arms. “What's all this? Tears on our wedding day.”
“Oh, it's awful… awful,” sobbed Felicity. “Your parents hate me, you hate me…”
“I don't hate you, you stupid little wretch,” he said crossly. “I love you to distraction. I've had to watch your gloomy face and torture myself wondering if you no longer loved me and yet at the same time being frightened to ask you.”
“Oh, Arthur.” Felicity dried her eyes. “I have been worrying about exactly the same thing.”
“We are both fools. Come and kiss me.”
He crushed her against him, and Felicity let out a yelp of pain.
“What is the matter?”
“It's this corset,” wailed Felicity. “It has the bones of a whole whale in it, that I'll swear. I am laced so tight, I feel faint.”
Lord Arthur released her and jerked down the blinds. “Take it off,” he said.
“What!”
“I said, take the damned thing off. We are married. We can do what we like. No relatives, no parents. I have not felt so free since I came into my inheritance and left Pent House to set up my own establishment in town. Take it off.”
Felicity giggled. “You had best help me with your mother's choice of dress. Her maid lashed the tapes so tightly, I think she had instructions to make sure I kept it on for life.”
“More than likely.” He dealt with the tapes expertly and began to slide the dress from her shoulders.
“You do that as if you were accustomed to it,” said Felicity sharply.
“I was always good at untying knots,” he said blandly. “Goodness, what a monster that corset is. You'll need to lie on your face on this seat.”
Felicity lay down on her face while he struggled with the lacing of her corset, which had been lashed into a double knot at the back. Then he turned her gently over and began to unlace it at the front.
“Oh, what a relief,” sighed Felicity as he at last slid the corset from under her and chucked it on the seat opposite.
“Felicity,” he said hoarsely, looking down at the slim figure in the white silk petticoat.
“Arthur! You can't do anything yet. Not here! Not now!”
But his mouth silenced her, and his clever hands sent the rest of the world spinning away.
They were to spend the night at a posting house a comfortable distance away from Pent House.
Two tall footman jumped down and helped milord and milady to alight. The coachman and outriders took the horses and grand ducal carriage round to the stables.
“See if they've left anything in the carriage,” called the coachman to one of the grooms. “Ladies are always leaving fans and reticules.”
The groom poked his head in the carriage and then reached in an arm. He then slowly backed out and mutely held up the corset.
“Well, my stars,” said the coachman, filled with admiration. “Couldn't even wait. Ah, well, that's the Quality for you!”
Felicity awoke during the night with a frightened cry, and her husband hugged her close.
“I had a nightmare,” said Felicity. “I dreamt I was back at Tregarthan Castle, and Mr. Palfrey was having me whipped.
“Shhh. He cannot trouble you any longer. He has fled the country. I told you, Mr. Barchester said he had gone off and taken Martha with him.”
“It seems unfair that such a wicked man should go unpunished.”
“He's got Martha Barchester with him, and that is a fate worse than transportation. Besides, he will have to live in exile for the rest of his days. But now you are awake, I may as well take up where I left off…”
MARION CHESNEY
