by P. F. Kozak
Lucy immediately came and hugged her. “Miss Pamela, this ain’t a day to cry! You should be laughing your fool head off. You and the mister are getting married!”
“I’ve waited so long, Lucy. I can’t believe the day has finally come.” Pamela took a handkerchief from her night table and wiped her eyes. “It is a beautiful gown, isn’t it?”
“Miss Pamela, it’s the prettiest wedding dress I’ve ever seen! It’s all covered with lace and pearls! And I’ve never seen such fine embroidery in all my life as is on the bodice and train.”
“Do you know Peter hired a man to come here and take our photograph today? He said he wants to always be able to see me in my gown.”
“With you in that gown and the mister in his blue frock coat and doeskin trousers, you will be a sight, you will! The mister is right to want a picture of that, he is!”
“He will be so handsome, won’t he?” Pamela shook herself as more tears threatened to come. “I have to stop crying, or my eyes will swell shut.”
“Come, miss. Let me fix your hair. That will take a bit.”
Lucy worked on Pamela’s hair and then helped her into her undergarments. As Lucy laced up her corset, she asked, “Miss Pamela, you never wear a corset. Where on earth did you get this one? It is indecent!”
Pamela giggled. “It is supposed to be indecent, Lucy. Someone dear to me allowed me to borrow it for my wedding day.” She couldn’t tell Lucy that Nellie lent her the same corset she had worn on Peter’s birthday.
“Well, miss, the mister is in for quite a surprise on his wedding night.”
“Oh, yes, Lucy, he is. Let me show you what else I have.” Pamela reached under the bed and pulled out a small traveling bag. “Peter told me to keep my wedding night things separate from the honeymoon boxes. He wouldn’t tell me why.”
Pamela opened the bag and took out a folded black garment. When she shook it out, Lucy gasped. “Miss Pamela! You’re goin’ to wear that?”
“I surely am, Lucy. I do believe Master Rennard will fancy it, don’t you?”
Lucy took the garment from Pamela. She held a black satin negligee, cut to fit a woman’s body like a second skin. Looking a bit bewildered, Lucy turned it over. “Where’s the rest of it, miss? There ain’t no back or sleeves.”
“There’s not supposed to be any, Lucy. I had it specially shipped from Paris with my wedding dress. The shop where I ordered my gown had a drawing of it from the designer. I couldn’t believe the unabashed immodesty of it! Isn’t it scandalous?”
“Miss, if you’ll excuse my rudeness, the guvner will cream on himself when he sees you in this.”
Pamela’s smile lit up the room. “I know! With the front cut so low and the back simply not there, he’ll be so hard he’ll have to be watchful he doesn’t crack it!”
Both women dissolved in hysterical giggles at the absolute wickedness of Pamela’s wearing such a close-fitting black gown on her wedding night. It was so risqué! Trying to regain some control, Lucy reminded her of the time. “Miss Pamela, we have to finish dressing you so I can put my new dress on before your guests get here.”
“Indeed, Lucy.” Pamela hugged her. “Thank you, sweet soul, for getting me through this morning. I don’t know what I would do without you.”
“Miss Pamela, having you here has made this a place where I want to stay. If you and the mister are willing to keep us, Jack and me want to be the couple overseein’ your household staff.”
“Lucy, has Jack proposed?”
Lucy’s face turned scarlet. “I’m not supposed to say yet, miss. He wants to be sure you and the mister will keep us on as a couple first.”
Pamela hugged her again. “I want you and Jack to stay with us. With all the entertaining we will have to do and children in our future, our staff will surely grow. I’m sure I can convince Master Rennard that he should find a new driver so Jack can be our butler.”
Lucy squeezed her tightly. “Thank you, Miss Pamela. You have a good heart, you do.”
“All right then! Get me into this dress.”
Lucy helped Pamela with all of her wedding clothes except her veil, leaving that for May to put on. Leaving Pamela alone, Lucy hurried to dress herself for the wedding.
Once again, Pamela checked off her list, something old—she had a bracelet that had been passed from her grandmother to her mother and then to her; something new—her wedding dress; something borrowed—Nellie’s corset; and something blue—both her dress and her garters.
Someone knocked on the door. “Who is it?”
“May, dearie. Can I come in?”
Pamela went to open the door. When May saw her, she whispered, “My heavens, Pamela. You are so beautiful. I always knew you would be a lovely bride!”
Pamela fought the urge to cry again. “Come in, May. You have to help me with my veil.”
When Pamela sat down at her dressing table, May produced the box with the sixpence. “This is from your father, Pamela. Master Rennard asked me to see to it and put it in your shoe.” Pamela lifted her left foot. May slipped the sixpence in her shoe and recited, “With this sixpence, I speak for your Papa and Mum in wishin’ you a lifetime of good health, happiness, wealth and happy wedded bliss.”
Even with her resolve to keep the tears in, they came anyway. “May, thank you for being my mum all these years. I know it hasn’t been easy for you waiting for this wedding.” Pamela stood and hugged her tightly. “I’m so glad you didn’t leave us. I love you.”
May also could not contain her emotion. Crying softly, she whispered to Pamela, “You know I could never leave you, missy. Someone has to have some sense in this house.”
Trying to compose herself, Pamela dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief. “Help me with my veil, so I can go downstairs and wait in the dining room. I want to see when the guests arrive.”
As May pinned on her veil, she asked, “Is Miss Constance coming today?”
“I invited her, as well as her cousins Charles and Sarah. I told Charles early on that I would invite them and didn’t want to go back on my promise.”
“Do you think she’ll show herself here?”
“I expect so. She’ll need something to gossip about tomorrow. Peter’s marriage to me is certainly grist for the mill, don’t you think?”
“Dearie, you are the fruit of Sir George’s loins and with you, the fruit surely doesn’t fall far from the tree.”
“Papa always did what he wanted and never let what other people thought stop him. That’s how he raised me. And that’s how I choose to live my life.”
“You’re a strong woman, Pamela Kingston. I’m proud to be here today with you and the mister. You are both fine people. I wish you both all the happiness in the world.” May finished adjusting Pamela’s veil. “Now I best be gettin’ back to the kitchen and checkin’ on those caterers. I might not be cookin’, but I can bloody well make certain they’re doin’ things right!”
“I’ll go down with you and hide in the dining room.”
They left the room together. May held Pamela’s train up as she carefully made her way down the back stairs. Cracking the dining room door just enough to peep out, Pamela watched Lucy greet their guests. She looked beautiful in the peach gown Pamela had helped her choose. Jack also appeared quite dashing in his black morning coat. He fussed a bit with the waistcoat, but seemed to forget it once he had to be about ushering the guests.
Pamela stifled a belly laugh when Constance arrived on Charles’s arm. She wore a black day dress, with a black bonnet. No doubt her perception of it being a funeral rather than a wedding would be noted by everyone in attendance. Sarah followed on the arm of a handsome young man. His attentiveness told Pamela they were most probably engaged.
Nellie and Henry came in. Pamela opened the dining room door a bit more and blew them a kiss. Henry wore the morning coat Peter gave to him, along with his new shirt. The trousers didn’t quite match, but nonetheless, he was dressed suitably. Nellie wore a purple day dress. She l
ooked positively regal. The purple plume on her hat gave her just a hint of flamboyance. Her father’s courtesan held her head high as Jack escorted her into the parlour.
Some people arrived that Pamela only knew by acquaintance, all friends and colleagues of Peter. A few of her classmates came. When the minister and parish clerk arrived, Pamela’s palms became clammy. They were the last to go in with Jack and Lucy. The pianist began playing. She saw May going into the parlour, followed by Richard and Emmeline. Then she saw Peter. He stood outside the parlour door, waiting for the minister to signal his entrance. Then, he disappeared inside the room.
She picked up her bouquet of rosebuds. Slowly, she walked toward the open parlour door and waited. The bride’s processional music began and she stepped into the room. Peter stood halfway down the aisle waiting for her. Having no one to give her away, she asked Peter to wait and walk with her from the midpoint. Standing there among the roses, so handsome and masculine in his frock coat and breeches, he appeared to have just stepped out of a Manet painting.
When she reached the place where he stood, he held out his arm for hers. She threaded her arm through his and leaned against him, grateful for the support he offered. Then, they walked toward the rose archway together. As they reached their proper position under the roses, he whispered to her, “You are a walking dream, my darling Pamela.”
The minister nodded at them, and then began the ceremony. “Dearly beloved friends, we are gathered together here in the sight of God, to join together this man and this woman in holy matrimony, which is an honorable estate, instituted of God in paradise. It is a mystical union, not to be taken in hand unadvisedly, lightly, or wantonly, but reverently, discreetly, and soberly, duly considering the causes for which matrimony was ordained. Therefore, if anyone can show any just cause why they may not lawfully be joined together, let them now speak, or else hereafter forever hold their peace.”
Pamela held her breath and waited. The room remained silent, except for May sniffling as she wept. Pamela couldn’t be sure the high-strung Constance wouldn’t make a scene. Thankfully, she remained quiet.
After that bit of business passed, Pamela relaxed. She focused on listening to the minister. After delivering some preliminary prayers, the minister recited their vows. Without being told, Peter took both her hands in his as the minister spoke.
“Peter Rennard, The Right Honourable Earl of Stanford, wilt thou have this woman to thy wedded wife, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of matrimony? Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honour, and keep her in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?”
“I will.”
“Pamela Frances Kingston, wilt thou have this man to thy wedded husband, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony? Wilt thou obey him, and serve him, love, honour, and keep him in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?”
“I will.”
“Who giveth this woman to be married to this man?”
There followed an infinite moment of silence. Peter glanced at May, having instructed her to speak for Sir George and charge Pamela to him. With tears streaming down her face, May shook her head no. Unable to speak, she pointed to Peter.
Drawing himself up to his full height and with dignity fitting his position, Peter replied, “In the name of Sir George Kingston, whose presence in spirit is felt by us all, and as Pamela’s guardian, I do.”
The joy in Pamela’s heart knew no bounds. For Peter to acknowledge her as his ward during their marriage ceremony, in front of his friends and colleagues, made this ceremony a rite of passage for both of them. Their secret would no longer be considered a sin. They could now love one another openly and proudly.
After exchanging their vows, the clergyman asked for the ring. Peter took the ring he had engraved with their initials and the date of their wedding, and placed it on the Bible. Once blessed, the minister gave it back to Peter. He placed it on Pamela’s finger saying, “With this ring I thee wed, with my body I thee worship, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow.”
Pamela smiled, noting the emphasis he put on “with my body I thee worship.”
They knelt together under the rose archway as the minister instructed them. “Ye husband, dwell with your wife according to knowledge; giving honour unto her, and as being heirs together of the grace of life, that your prayers be not hindered. Ye wife, be in subjection to your own husband, giving reverence unto him, and as being heirs together of the grace of life, that your prayers be not hindered.
“O eternal God, send thy blessing upon these thy servants. May Peter and Pamela ever remain in perfect love and peace together, and live according to thy laws. Those whom God hath joined together let no man put asunder. Amen.”
Peter lifted Pamela’s veil. Following his instinct and without regard to deportment, he pulled her to him. As he would if they were alone, he kissed her. In front of everyone present, his passion proclaimed they need no longer hide their love.
After Peter and Pamela received their guests at the dining room door, the caterers served the wedding breakfast. When Pamela saw the elaborate trays of food, it seemed a wedding feast would have been a more appropriate description. One tray had cold salmon, pigeons in jelly, cherries, strawberries and cream. Another tray had lobster salad, blancmange, veal galantine, apricots, peaches and grapes. A third had ham, tongue, duck and lamb. The chicken pie and veal pie sat beside a variety of breads, rolls and jellies. And of course, May’s wedding cake sat in the middle of the table.
Constance and Charles were the first to leave. Constance murmured congratulations with a limp handshake before she hurried out the door. Pamela noted, almost with pity, that the hard lines creasing her face had become more severe. Charles kissed her cheek and offered his good wishes, saying to Peter he now understood why Sir George would approve of the groom.
As morning moved into afternoon, the guests gradually thinned. Nellie and Henry were among the last to leave. Nellie embraced Pamela with heartfelt warmth, her wishes for a future filled with happiness and love coming on a wave of tears. She also hugged Peter, and whispered something. Pamela could not hear what she said. Peter smiled and nodded, saying nothing in return.
Richard and Emmeline also said their goodbyes. They had to return to Manchester, having left their daughters Christabel and Sylvia in the care of Emmeline’s parents. The nine-and-a-half hour train trip would have them arrive home late Saturday night. When Emmeline asked Pamela if she had chosen any names for their children, Pamela whispered, “yes”; the first boy would be George and the first girl, Nellie.
After everyone had left, Peter and Pamela put on their traveling clothes and prepared to leave. Again, Peter emphasised that she should have an overnight bag apart from her boxes for the honeymoon trip. Pamela questioned why they had not left before their guests, as was the custom. Peter would only say the plans for the night did not include an early departure.
Lucy and May saw Peter and Pamela to the carriage. With tearful hugs, Pamela said goodbye, charging them with keeping the house on Piccadilly secure in their absence. Jack already sat in the driver’s seat, prepared to take them to the mystery destination. Pamela had meant to corner him earlier and ask for some hint as to what Peter had planned. But the day’s events had not allowed for such an interrogation.
Peter helped her into the carriage before climbing in behind her. Jack had piled all of their boxes in the cab, forcing them to squeeze into the corner of the seat. Immediately, Pamela noticed something odd.
“Peter, why are the windows covered with towels?”
“Because I told Jack to cover them.”
“What on earth for?”
“So you could not see out of them, of course.”
“For Lord’s sake, why?”
“I told you, our destination is a surprise. You will not know where we are going until we
arrive.”
“Aren’t we going to the steamer ship that will take us across the Channel to France?”
“Eventually. But the passage I booked doesn’t sail until early tomorrow morning.”
“Then, where are we going?”
“Ah, yes, that is the question, now isn’t it?”
Pamela pinched his arm. “You devil!”
“Now, now, didn’t you just swear to obey me and give reverence unto me?”
“When I am inclined to it, I will!”
“I do not recall there being a condition placed upon subjection!”
Pamela cuddled in close as she whispered, “I never swore to subjection. I heard it as an instruction, not a vow.” She licked his earlobe and added, “When have you ever known me to obey an instruction?”
Peter caught her breast in his hand and sunk his fingertips into the soft flesh. “Oh, I think you will tonight, my bride. I certainly think you will tonight.”
The carriage rumbled along. Pamela had thoughts of beginning the wedding night early, while still in the carriage. Peter caught her hand as she attempted to caress his crotch. Kissing her fingertips, Peter chastised her. “Lady Stanford, you will wait to consummate our marriage at the appropriate time!”
Lying her head on his shoulder, she deferred to his sentiment. “Indeed, my lord. And might I add I much prefer being Pamela Rennard to Lady Stanford.”
The motion of the carriage made Pamela drowsy. Leaning against Peter, she dozed a bit. When the carriage stopped, she started awake. “Have we arrived?”
“We have.” Peter picked up his bag. “Hand me your case.”
“Where are we?”
“You will see. Wait here for a moment.” Peter opened the door and handed Jack the two cases. “Take these inside, Jack. Then, take our boxes on to the dock where we will board the steamer to France.”
“Yes, sir.” Jack hesitated for a moment. “Master Rennard?”
“Yes, Jack?”
“Might I tell you how happy I am for you and Miss Pamela?” He set the bags down and caught Peter unaware when he enthusiastically shook his hand. “I’m mighty proud to be in your employ, I am! Congratulations, sir!”