Mr. and Mrs.Rochester

Dressed in white

It was nothing to look at unless you were looking at her. Edward stood in the front, not turned around looking at her, with his hands behind his back. His hands were trembling as they were pressed together. He started to remember the last time they were in a church together and his hands shook more. He closed his eyes and breathed a heavy sigh. That was the past, he had to remind himself, I am a new man, he told himself. He then saw her in his mind. The anguish in her flaming eyes baring down on him like the devil himself. No tears swam in her eyes and a curse did not come from her quivering lips. This hurt all the more. It felt like a flogging. Nothing hurt worse than her. Nothing felt better than her. And then his thoughts flitted across the fact that he was about to marry her and he held to it and was content.
A sharp piano playing came from the right of the church and it felt like a stab in the silent air. Jane's heart banged with each clang of a key. She stepped with it too, slowly. She saw him across the room and forgot about everything. She forgot about the piano playing, walking, and being nervous. She went to him and then the music ended. She looked into his blank eyes. He could see shades and contrasts, but hardly. He could see some of her figure and could tell that she was wearing white. The preacher tore through the silence and started the vows. He placed his hand on her face and smiled. This cheek was hers, this breath on his hand was hers, and he was hers. He felt a smile crease his eyes. His unseeing eyes became filled. A few tears streamed down his face as he smiled bigger than ever. On his hand he felt something wet slide over his fingers. He could feel her smile on his hand and her tears. The ceremony ended with a quick but meaningful kiss to seal it.
Hand in hand they walked out of the church and to the house that they were now living in. With Jane's inheritance, she was able to buy a fine country house. Rochester wanted it to be large, but Jane was perfectly fine in a small country parish.
Jane's carriage picked them up and they traveled to their new estate. They sat beside each other, kissed, laughed, and flirted. It wasn't very long before they arrived at the house. Jane lead Edward through the gate and to the door. She'd decided on something in the middle. It was certainly bigger than what she wanted but smaller than what Edward wanted. Edward looked forward and said, "Describe it to me, Jane."
"It is not large, nor small. It is of dark slate rock. The windows are not grand, but they shine against the darkness. There is a garden on the premise. It is not quite like the one at...." She couldn't say it without the memories. He could feel the apprehension in air and from her grasp. "Take me inside, my love. I want you to share the house, soon to be home, with me." He smiled at her encouragingly.
She held fast to him and they went inside together. "Above our heads, a chandelier holds to the ceiling like a gripped hand falling from a precipice." His mouth pulled into a larger smile, "I can see it." He said.
She showed him the rest of the house. The total of six bedrooms, two parlors, a dining room, a kitchen, and their own master bedroom.
They entered through a wooden door that made not a noise upon entrance. "What is this room, Jane?" He said with the curiosity of a child.
"Our bedroom." She said in a seemingly nonchalant way, but her heart was picking up speed. It was just the two of them in the house for the night. Tomorrow maids, a housekeeper, a butler, and kitchen workers would arrive. Tonight they were free from the public and private eye.
She had one arm around his back. He leaned in to kiss her; he wanted her lips to quench the fire in his heart so badly. With his unseeing eyes he couldn't find her mouth at first. He kissed her neck and then carefully kissed her jaw and chin, and landed lastly on her mouth. With the hand he had, he pressed firmly on the back of her neck and head.
She undid his vest and slid it off, next she slipped off his shirt and undershirt. She took a step back to look at him. He had scars from the burns he endured along the left side of his stomach. She put her small hand on them and felt them. He jerked at her touch and then went still. She put her hand on his shoulder and then went down his muscle and felt the marred stump of a forearm. The flames had lapped it up but it didn't take him with it, so she considered him blessed. The arm, or lack thereof, didn't disturb her, if anything it allowed her to feel more equal to him. She softly kissed the mutilated arm. He sighed and brought her close to him. She could feel his heart pounding. That night was a dream for them both. As disturbed a life they had both lead, things were being reconciled. They felt like two normal human beings in love. The pieces of their mangled hearts were being put back together, one piece at a time.