Deliverance : an adaption of Jane Eyre

Chapter 5

Author's note

I've always included physical intimacy in my stories, some more than others. In adaptations of classic works quite a number of readers do not appreciate it, so I have decided to try and find a compromise. This chapter contains an attempt to avoid adult content but not skip or overly romanticise physical intimacy. I'm very interested in your opinion, is my description of the wedding night adult material, or have I censored to the satisfaction of the general public?

Chapter 5

My white gown was delivered in time and fit perfectly, and when I entered Edward's room wearing it he took my right hand in both his and kissed it reverently. I had let Sophie do my hair despite the painful memories, but not elaborately, just a little less prim than my usual Quaker style.

Edward looked fine, his waistcoat was beautiful over a pristine white shirt, and it did not hinder or pain him at all; he wore a pair of the loose trousers of his sickbed with it, but starched and ironed until it looked almost formal.

Of course there were nerves, how could there not be after what happened last time? But Edward did not try to deny my fears, this time he expressed his understanding, tried to soothe them as best he could, and yes, admitted to his own.

'I feel horrible, Jane, everything reminds me of my betrayal of you, and God, I'm still so afraid to be punished, I feel I have no right to be happy, I didn't suffer enough to make up for my crimes.'

Frankly, I was stunned. For nearly two weeks now, I had seen him tortured with excruciating pain, it was lessening, but he was still suffering for his courage to try to save the woman who had made his life Hell on earth. How could he expect to suffer more? As always, the need of a fellow creature brings out the best in us, and I managed to set my own fears aside to try and calm my beloved.

We sat in silence all the way to church, where we stood side by side, seeking support from the other, Edward as much as myself.

But of course, nothing untoward happened, and we spoke our vows and were married without mishap. We had kissed before, but nothing compared to that moment of release, we were finally one; from now on we had the right to be together forever, we might share everything, no person in the whole world was closer to either of us than the other.

There was no need for words, we went back to the carriage hand in hand; sat in silence until we arrived at Thornfield. We accepted congratulations from the staff, and from Miller, then we retreated to Edward's bedroom and sat on the bed together for several moments; the trip to church and the anxiety had worn him out, and there was Miller's treatment still to come, so I thought to help my beloved into his loose shirt, then let him sleep for an hour.

I took his waistcoat off him and put it away, then started on the buttons of his shirt. But suddenly, I was no longer aiding a wounded man, I was undressing my husband, and my hands started to explore what had been forbidden for me to touch. I stroked the soft hair under his shirt, feeling my beloved shudder beneath me.

Quickly but carefully, I pulled the shirt over his head as I had seen him do that one night, his broad chest no longer the object of my worries, but of my passion. Finally I was allowed to touch it with desire, and I explored every inch of it, all my senses overwhelmed by love and yes, by lust.

And did Edward allow me to do all that without reciprocating? To be honest, he did, his eyes were shooting fire, but the rest of him was quiet, too quiet. I had expected him to start on my buttons again, was hoping he would. But wait, was he breathing a shade too heavily? Had the morning been too much for him? I stopped my caresses and looked my question.

'I am pretty tired, love, and in conflict with myself. I so want to caress you, and kiss and feel you, but I'm sure I'd lose control over my urges. You know I'm wild; if I lose it I'll hurt myself, but most of all, I'll hurt you.'