The Dowager Duchess of Bexley tapped the door once with the silver topped handle of her husband's cane and the double doors of the church's inner sanctum swung open. The patterned ceiling of Saint Margaret's Church hung low with golden leafed chandeliers whose soft glow illuminated the path before Verushka. Silken bows of white were draped between the pews of waiting guests divided by a carpet of rose petals in the softest hues of pink and white. Rays from the stained glass windows filtered through the upper galleys to illuminate the congregation below and in a solitary stream of untempered light waited the seventh Duke of Bexley. He wore a long coat of midnight blue with a high stiff collar that curved around the snowy folds of his intricate cravat. Where other men dressed with simple refinement, the debonair dandy of the ton chose an ivory waistcoat buttoned with sapphires over the sculptured breadth of his torso and long pressed pantaloons tucked into gleaming polished boots fresh from lamp-black.
Verushka had seen him for so long as her employer then as her betrothed and now the once pantry maid witnessed him as the bated crowd did. The Duke of Bexley was the jewel in the crown of London society. He was every man's icon and every women's dream. And he was all hers. The story written just for her.
Cain stood tall, his eyes unwavering as Verushka took her first steps towards him. Tentatively, as if she wore Cendrillon's glass slippers she placed her foot onto the nearest petal.
"Breathe," Verushka told herself. "Just breathe."
She shifted her weight and placed a second slippered foot onto the bed of roses. Dimly she recognised the wedding march echoing from the giant brass organ slowly drowning out the quiet murmurs of the crowd.
What fine lace she wore?
Which milliner would see a flourish of customers the following day?
Did she look tired?
Why was she delayed?
Rigorously trained to hear every whispered thought, Verushka tried not to hear the words that washed over her.
And then Cain smiled. It was like a flash of light across a cloudy sky. His smile was as brilliant as the beam that illuminated his form that very first day she stumbled into his bedchamber and named him Apollo. Cain brought the light.
Her steps became more certain, her grip on her brother's arm less constricting and by the time she was halfway down the aisle, and she was practically cantering to the altar.
Verushka recalled a book where an Italian artist detailed a salamander. The reptile like creature was said to withstand incredible heat, almost as if it was birthed from fire. Verushka couldn't help but think she and Cain were like two such animals. Born in the heat of the Bexley Pantry. It didn't matter if they had to walk through life with Hades' flames licking at their heels. It could not touch them. They were forged in the heat of the coals, baked amongst butter biscuits and bedlam.
She reached the dais and Jacob squeezed her arm with a proud glimmer in his silver eyes. He bowed over her hand, brushing her scar with his roughened fingertips and whispered for her ears alone, a slight catch in his voice. "Mother would have been so proud of you." Jay straightened and met his sister's eyes through the flimsy material of her veil. "As am I."
Verushka beamed up at him as he moved to take his place beside the groom. She handed her bouquet of freshly cut orchids to the Dowager Duchess and stepped into the shaft of sunlight that held her future.
She took Cain's outstretched hand, her fingertips gliding across the kid leather of his gloves as smoothly as if it were brushed velvet. Fractals of colour cascaded from the stained glass around their joined hands. Everything they had gone through, every moment that they ached and rejoiced in each other pooled upon that spot. The words of the Bishop filled her ears and she listened as if it was a story she had never heard. Then suddenly it was Cain's turn to speak. He read from the holy book with only his impeccable memory to guide him, and it was as if the world faded away. There was no one in the cavernous church but a maid and the man she loved. Cain's lips moved without faltering and the rich tenor of his voice was just as sure as it had been during the long nights that he had read to her curled up against the warmth of the pantry oven.
"I take thee, Verushka Anne Wyvernstone to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us depart, according to God's holy ordinance: and thereto I plight thee my troth."
Verushka inhaled deeply, her heart so full that her chest ached with joy, and then she read her vows just as clearly as the Duke of Bexley had. Verushka however had chosen to omit one line which the Church of England required only of the wife.
"I take thee, Cain William Blakeney to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us depart, according to God's holy ordinance: and thereto I plight thee my troth."
"Ahem." The Bishop coughed delicately.
"My Lord?" Verushka questioned politely.
"Ahem." The Bishop once again coughed, this time eyeing the relevant passage in The Book of Common Prayer.
"Can I fetch you a glass of water, My Lord?"
She caught Cain rolling his eyes through the folds of her veil.
"To obey." The Bishop of London elucidated. "You did not promise to obey."
"Didn't I?" Verushka appeared perplexed. "Where is that part again?" She ran her forefinger over the husband's vows.
"Not there." The Bishop pushed her hand towards the correct stanza. "Right here, my girl, after 'cherish' and before 'til death'."
"You will have to forgive me, My Lord. The light in here is abysmal. Can you see it, Your Grace?"
Cain's mouth was pressed into a firm line but Verushka noticed how his shoulders shook with the effort it took to keep from laughing as he spoke. "Right here, my dear. 'I take thee in sickness, in health, to love, cherish, and to obey, til death us depart.'"
"Oh, of course if you do, then so do I." Verushka nodded resolutely. "Please continue My Lord."
Verushka thought she heard a snort of laughter come suspiciously from the direction of Cain's mother. Verushka's gaze however was fixed on Cain and though the light was supposedly abysmal and a layer of fine gauze hindered her view, she saw his eyes flash with a promise of his own. And although he was silent, the Duke of Bexley's lips moved in a definable shape. 'I love you,' he uttered wordlessly.
'I love you too.' Verushka mouthed in response. And really, she thought, those were the only vows that mattered.
~
The wedding lunch had rolled into dinner and dancing, filling the house with music and laughter well into the night and the Bexley staff rose to the occasion with what appeared to be artful ease. But beneath the glittering court Verushka could envision the frantic paddling of a ducks legs beneath the pond surface. Somewhere beneath stairs Madam Sheila was reprimanding a maid for lumpy custard, footmen were polishing everything from the floors to the silver and the butler accounting for each bottle of wine dredged out of the cellars. It was strange to be so close to it all now, and yet still so far removed.
On her way to the powder room Verushka found that the second floor's west window afforded a view of the farm yards that were illuminated by a blazing fire. She peered closely at the gathered throng laying haphazardly under the stars and smiled. The blushes of a serving maid told her that Ben had been in fine form, bringing with him the rest of the Riverstone staff with the notable exception of Chris. Despite their volatile history it was unlike Chris to miss a party and his absence gave Verushka a twinge of remorse. She reached for the clasp and flung the window open to lend her voice to the cacophony of amateur singers below. Her old comrades raised tankards in her direction, sloshing ale back and forth against the rim. They called to her to join them in their determination to outdo the ton's merrymaking but Verushka knew that the latter would not concede defeat until at least dawn and she had other plans that night. She closed the paned glass on Geoffrey's third rendition of a bawdy ditty detailing an Irish lass named Molly who sold more than fish on the streets of Dublin and stifled a giggle as she returned to her husband's side.
Cain stood in the entrance hall shaking the hand of the Leader of the Opposition with a firm but friendly grasp.
"It is so good of you to take time from your busy Parliamentary schedule to celebrate our wedding with us Sir Robert. Will you be heading directly to Westminster now? I heard something at my club about you turning the tables on old Melbourne."
"Haha," Sir Robert Peel laughed with congenial humour. "Not this time, my friend. Melbourne has managed to skim through with a minority government so far but his favour with Her Majesty can only last so long. I imagine my time will come very soon, with your support of course."
"Of course!" Cain assured the minister.
Verushka saw her opening and stepped in with a demure smile. "My Lord. It is such an honour to see you. Won't you stay for another hour or two? I am certain I owe you a dance."
"Thank you, Your Grace. I must return to my office. Another time perhaps?"
"If there is anything that we can do to assist your cause, please do not hesitate to mention it. My husband tells me of your plans to institute an income tax and we both believe that such a venture is worthy of our most ardent support. I am certain that our Queen will soon see your value as we do."
"I was not aware that the Bexley family took such a keen interest in politics," Peel remarked with surprise.
"We take notice on the important matters." Cain tapped his index finger to his nose conspiratorially with a wink. "You have supporters here."
"That is very kind of you, Your Grace." Sir Robert bowed and retreated to the door.
Cain squeezed his wife's hand and there was no mistaking the tension in his grip.
"Wait for it..." Verushka maintained an affected genteel ease and offered the minister a pleasant smile as he turned back at lip of the doorway.
"Have you ever considered becoming one of Her Majesty's ladies in waiting?" Sir Robert asked as the idea dawned shrewdly upon his countenance.
Verushka chuckled quietly. "No, my lord. I fear I might be too headstrong for our Queen."
"That-." Peel grinned. "-is exactly what I am counting on." He tipped his hat to the newly-weds and exited into the cool night.
"I thought you and Jacob said he's on our side." Cain spoke between smiling teeth as they waved a final goodbye to their guest.
"We did." Verushka arched an eyebrow. "But now, we will know for sure."
She caught a scullery maid linger in the shadows as the young girl carried an empty tray of delicacies back to the kitchens. Verushka knew from experience that very little could be concealed from the army beneath the stairs. Clandestine conversations were routinely held within earshot of a serving crew and even the privacy a closed door afforded was minimal. Verushka realised the benefit of a maid in every drawing room across London being ignored and she was going to use it to her advantage. If Robert Peel could use the DoorKeepers of parliament as spies then surely she could utilise England's maids for something more than domesticity.
The Butler closed the heavy door shutting out the rolling of carriages on Grosvenor Street in the very best part of Mayfair. The balls would continue both in her own home and around London until the sun crept up above the hazy horizon to the east. But something clicked within Verushka as final as the catch of the lock and her lids slid shut.
Her first mission for Her Majesty's Secret Service was complete. It was without doubt only the beginning of many more to come but to this first task she had given her heart and soul. Blood and tears were both shed with equal measure and now the fates were to decide her next step. She was a newly-wed debutant at the height of the London season and she intended to enjoy every blessed morsel of her new existence as if it was the last sugared crumb in the pantry.
"Did you see your friends creating havoc in our yards?" Cain wrapped his arms around her slender form, nipping playfully at her ear.
"Yes," Verushka laughed. "I didn't see Chris though. Its just so strange. To be honest I haven't seen him since we had that little disagreement that night you found me in the pantry."
"Mm hmm." Cain mused distractedly but when she turned to look back at him he pulled her back more firmly against his chest.
"Caiiinnn." Verushka enunciated accusingly. "You don't know anything about where Chris is do you?"
"Do you think so little of me?" Cain chuckled. "Perhaps he is attempting to woo Liara or Mina now that you are no longer on the marriage mart."
"Ha!" Verushka choked. Her chest constricted at the mention of their names. She wondered when their absence would no longer linger like a ghost haunting the corners of her mind. Still, she had to smile at the conjured image of her old friends with Chris. "Those two would bury him before they bed him."
"Clever girls."
Cain turned his wife in his arms, lifting her lips to his for a lingering caress as the orchestral strains from the ballroom filtered through the open doorway to wrap them in its undulating rhythm.
An audible giggle emanated from the servant's stairs and Verushka pulled away. "Cain," she admonished. "The servants will talk."
"Well then." Cain grinned with a rakish flare in his emerald eyes. "Let us give them something to talk about, my dear."
"Will you stop calling me 'your deer!'" she shoved him playfully. "I know what you mean when you say it. I remember you likening me to a forest animal the first time you met me in the pantry. My eyes are not that big as to resemble a deer caught in the aim of a crossbow."
"Of course they are, my dear. Why do you think a hunter pursues his prey in the first place? Wide expressive eyes, a glimmer through the trees, that golden sheen of hair. How could he not want her?"
"And what will you do with me now that you have caught me, Sir Hunter?" Verushka tilted her chin up with an enticing challenge.
"I haven't caught you yet." Cain's words reverberated across her skin as if they were the first tremors of the sky promising a storm.
She flicked her eyes to his and something within their depths told her to run. Verushka's breath shortened and her heart hammered rapidly against its cage. She took one step back, and then another and soon she was racing up the grand staircase as her husband's masculine laughter echoed in her ears.
There would be no stopping the servants from talking now.
Cain's long strides caught up with her easily, sweeping her off her feet and in through the door of the master bedroom. It shut heavily on the din of guests still milling about the house and plucking of cello's that mingled with the rabble rousing of servants still celebrating in the courtyard.
It was silent and they were finally alone. It had been a long time since they had been alone in each other's company and longer still since Verushka had been wrapped in Cain's arms against the warm bricks of the pantry.
With heaving panting that he attempted to restrain Cain reached for his bride in the dark. They had waited an age to be together and now was the moment to relish, not to rush.
"Your Grace." Cain lay his hands on Verushka's shoulders. "Are you happy?"
Verushka sighed and leaned back against his chest. "Most definitely." She grinned into the darkened room as her own gasps for air became more steady and soft.
They stood like that for several moments in the glow of the moonlight listening to the rise and fall of their breathing. Cain's arms wound their way around her slight waist to entwine their fingers. The smooth metal surface of their wedding bands brushed against each other's with a faint clink of gold.
The day had been exhausting, trying in so many ways and yet Verushka's heart still raced to have the Duke of Bexley touch her. As their wedding day had progressed and the food had begun to clear the tables followed swiftly by wine decanters that lessoned from thirsty dancers, Verushka had started to feel her insides wring with that splendid mix of anxiety and anticipation.
She had a taste of the decadence that so many women had lain claim to from the debaucherous Duke of Bexley. Verushka did not bemoan his past, especially knowing how very much he loved her in his present. There was a certain reverence in the way that he looked upon her and touched her that ensured no other female had ever held his heart. They may have removed his clothes, but only she could see him truly naked. And oh, how she adored the man beneath the artifice and apparel.
Verushka shifted in his embrace, draping her arms about his strong, lean shoulders.
"Husband." She smiled on utterance of the word so foreign to her tongue.
"Wife." Cain grinned his response.
Verushka traced her fingertips over his brow, across the thin extravagant silver hoop that had first fascinated her in the marketplace. "Are you tired, my love?" She wondered, smoothing the creases over the shadows of his face.
"Too tired for what exactly?" Cain raised a cocky brow.
"Well." Verushka hesitated coyly. "It has been a rather trying day. I can understand if..." She trailed off awkwardly.
"If what?" Cain asked again amused by her discomfort.
"If the loss of your father has been too much, we can wait Cain." She retracted her questing palm and pulled back from her husband's warmth. "We can wait until you have mourned."
A muscle in Cain's jaw flickered on a dismissive exhale. He reached for her, wrapping her even more tightly in his embrace. "The only thing that my father would have wanted mourned would be the inability of his son to consummate his marriage vows."
"Oh really, Cain." Verushka huffed exasperated.
"Really." Cain assured her. "In case you had not heard, the sixth Duke of Bexley's conquests were legion. He most certainly put his only son to shame, although I suppose we did share a love of maids."
"Maids?" Verushka questioned with a scowl. "Plural?"
"My mistake." Cain kissed her cheek as she turned her lips away from him. "Maid. Singular."
"Hmmm," Verushka snorted less than impressed. "You better keep it that way because you live in a house full of servants, any one of which would not hesitate to help me bury a body."
Cain's laugh brushed over the slope of Verushka's ear. "Don't think that I am unaware that the majority of my household's allegiance lies with you."
"Hmph," Verushka huffed again but tilted her neck allowing him to place a kiss on her slender throat. "I encourage you not to forget it, Your Grace."
Cain pulled the satin scoop of her neckline over one shoulder with a scrape of teeth. "I plan to forget everything until dawn creeps through yonder window, except of course my bride." He bent down, scooping his wife with a whoop of mischief and twirled her in his arms.
"Ah, Cain! Put me down!" Verushka shrieked as the long trail of her overturned veil wrapped them up in its bindings.
"As you wish." Cain laughed and the two fell onto the soft downy expanse of his bed.
Cain's body pressed hers into the feathery depths and with tender fingers he lifted the swatch of lace that had fallen across her face. Verushka looked up into her husband's jade eyes and laid a soft palm against his cheek. "Are you certain that you are okay?"
The duke's gaze shuttered for a moment. Cain took in the beauty of his maid's face in the gentle moonlight as the breeze from the open window caressed her skin. She was correct. It had been a difficult day. Traumatic in ways he never could have imagined at daybreak, but at every moment Verushka had been there with her wide expansive eyes, holding the reins of a runaway life in her capable hands.
He placed a hand over hers and brought it to his lips. Broken nails, course palms from decades of work and fingertips scarred from papercuts sustained by a mind too eager to turn the page. She was not like other debutants, not demure or delicate, but in her tiny hands she had held the fate of England with compassionate humility. And today she had held the broken pieces of his family together when his own heart faltered in despair.
Despite all that England believed to the contrary, their marriage was a partnership. A see-saw on a children's playground, a life in perpetual balance. Verushka carried him today and he was determined to carry her over the threshold of marriage and into their lives thereafter. There would be times that he would falter and his clever, beautiful wife would rise to the challenge. It was a novel concept to trust another in a world so full of secrets and lies, but to Verushka he could reveal his whole heart.
"Cain?" Verushka's brows furrowed at her unanswered question. She wanted to experience a physical sort of love, to soften the expression of sadness on her beloved's face and to begin their life together as one, but she wanted none of that if Cain did not also want it with her. "Are you okay?"
"Never better." Cain smiled.
And just like that Verushka's worries evaporated as water droplets in the brilliance of the sun.
The Duke of Bexley's smile was something magnificent to behold. She let it soak into her skin, fill her up with every golden ray until her own joy beamed in response. Her mouth opened on a wordless laugh and she stretched upwards to press her lips to his, pulling him down to her in a crush of lace and linen. Verushka felt his smile upon her shoulder and heard it in his voice as he whispered her name.
A tremulous shudder escaped her parted lips and the Duke of Bexley looked upon his Duchess as the firelight danced over her golden hair. Flawed as he believed he was, a sinner in so many ways and yet his maid was still here in his arms and in his life. She saw beneath his inane artifice to the man within. How much he loved her he could never put into words. Never could the ink of all the books that she devoured contain how much she consumed his soul.
Verushka looked up at him with enormous, open eyes that shone directly from her soul and Cain knew that though he could not tell her, he could show her.
Cain brushed his lips to hers, filling her mouth with a sigh that tasted of sweetened port and cheroots. With questing fingers she clumsily loosened his cravat and threw it to the floor. His efforts however were far more skilled and precise. He plucked the silvery comb from her hair to spread the veil beneath them like a pristine ivory sheet and she lay upon the silver threaded gauze awaiting the tenderness of his touch. Cain unhooked the fastening of her corset never taking his eyes from hers as his hand reached beneath her to pull at unseen strings. When the bone and bustle gave way he drew them languorously over the planes of her body to toss them alongside his cravat discarded on the rug. Grasping the edge of her shift he pulled the long material skilfully over her head as he lifted her into his arms.
Laying back amongst the glittering fabric Verushka's breath hitched as her husband's teeth scraped away the sheer stocking and garter that encased her legs with a decadent thrill that made her recall their once illicit liaison in an empty pantry. It wasn't nearly as illicit now but the sanction of the church didn't make the path her husband's lips travelled seem any more sanctimonious.
In the short time that her brain had vacated her body chasing sensual sensations, Cain had divested her and himself of the last remnants of clothes. His chest was sculptured marble and lit with flame. A Goddess in the heavens must have sprinkled gold dust liberally in his making and he wore it proudly as if his beauty in itself was natures armour. Fine golden hairs across his forearms and powerful long legs highlighted the contours of his muscled frame as he lowered his naked form to hers. The scent of his cologne swirled about her nostrils. Musk bathed in rich red wine and spiced with cloves. The Duke of Bexley was a heady blend.
Cain caressed her body as if she were made from porcelain. He knew his maid was far from fragile but every fibre of her being was invaluable to his soul. Flesh met flesh as they lay upon the gossamer veil that had trailed her down the church's aisle. He pressed a hungry kiss to the curve of her neck delighting in the tremoring shudder of her skin beneath his tongue.
"I love you Verushka. I love you so much it hurts."
She stretched her arms around his torso to stroke the smooth muscled planes of his back with cautious exploration. Her fingertips traced the lines as if he were the braille of a book. She intended to read the lines of her husband's body over and over until her innocence graduated to an ability to memorise his masterpiece. But tonight wasn't for finality it was for beginnings. There was assuredly no feeling in all the world that compared to the embrace of the very first pages of a novel that would become the book to spark your heart, open your mind and enhance your senses. The feeling of reading ones favourite book for the very first time could not be bought, borrowed or bartered ever again.
So when Verushka closed her eyes to the sound of Cain's whispered adoration she absorbed every syllable and soaked in every touch. He guided her body with steady sweeps of practiced hands, cupping her calves with wide, firm palms to cross her ankles behind his back as he settled between her bare thighs. Verushka's heart suddenly stuck and spluttered as a tea kettle boiling over on a kitchen stove.
Cain paused above her, waiting patiently in the warm chamber air as the fire flickered strongly in the grate. The vibration of the orchestra below had died and the ill tuned instruments of the servant's festive strumming lay silent and Verushka looked up into the eyes of her lover with complete trust, love and perhaps a sliver of trepidation. Their lips met. Once. Twice. Over and over again until their breaths were ragged and raw with passion so fuelled that should their love have been written it would only have served to ignite the page.
Slowly, inch by perfect inch Verushka dragged the smooth surface of her palms down his golden forearms. With a boldness that she had never suspected possible, she reached between their bodies to take hold of him, stroking the warm tender flesh that lay there.
"Verushka..." With a pained groan of pleasure Cain breathed her name like a prayer in her ear and eased into her waiting womb.
They met, fitting as perfectly as a book to its binding.
Yes, there was a tightness and pain as Verushka had heard the other maid's say that there would be. But there was also passion and tenderness. Cain enveloped her with his love and Verushka felt full and whole for the first time in her life.
"Verushka?" Cain's eyes blazed. Facets of emerald lit from within.
"Cain?" She gasped. Her core was overflowing with sensations never felt before that it sizzled and steamed as it cascaded over her body. She pressed her lips to his, moaning into his mouth as he moved inside her. Arching up to meet the rocking of his body, Verushka let his movements be her guide. She rapidly discovered that her hours of pre-emptive study of farm animals with Geoffrey was unnecessary. When the spirit was so very willing, the flesh seemed to follow unbidden.
"Verushka." Cain tried again with a strained voice that hissed between clenched teeth.
"Yes?" This time Verushka hesitated.
"I am trying to talk to you." Cain gritted.
"Now?" Verushka asked incredulously. "Is that common?"
"No. Not common. Well... I suppose, sometimes." Cain grasped distractedly at the threads of her conversation to return to the point of his own interruption. "I wanted to, I needed to make sure that you are not hurt, that you are well." He panted as he hovered over his bride, resting his full weight on his elbows so that he was able to clearly see the amusement play out across her features.
Verushka wrinkled her nose. "I am very well, thank you. How are you?"
"Urgh," Cain groaned and sank back down. "That is not what I meant. This is your first experience. I do not want you to be unsure... or unfulfilled."
"Oh!" Verushka exclaimed and wriggled excitedly beneath him. "Does that mean I can ask questions now? I thought I would wait until we finished, but now is fine. Or is it over now? And-."
"It is certainly not over." Cain slanted his mouth over hers and stole the words from her lips. Talking was clearly the wrong strategy with his wife. He was quick to realise that ridding her of the cognisance to speak or think at all would ensure a far greater rate of his success in the marital bed.
"But Cain." Verushka attempted her line of questioning again.
"Enough." Cain commanded resolutely and laced his fingers with hers, taking pleasure in the suppleness of her skin as it stroked alongside his.
Verushka conceded defeat. She loved his stubbornness, the way he touched her, his cheeky humour as well as countless other things. Their lips met once more, tongues dancing as seamlessly as their wedding waltz and Verushka found that she had no words left to speak. Her mind however was not as easily supplicated. Concerns for Cain's pleasure slipped in amongst distracted thoughts of their wedding day and even trepidation simmered for her impending duty to the Queen and Verushka rued a mind that was always so full of activity.
But then Cain whispered in her ear with a soft, seductive moan. "Come with me."
He threaded his hand into the thick locks of her silken hair, its fine strands pulled taut in his closed fist and Verushka thought how strangely exciting the feel of pleasure laced with pain was.
Then Cain increased the speed of his strokes and Verushka thought that the friction was more than she could endure.
And when the Duke of Bexley tilted her hips and entered her more deeply and surely than ever before Verushka could no longer think at all.
~
Several hours later the ebbing fire flickered in the hearth throwing twisting coils of light over the couple entangled in limbs and linen on the master bed.
"Cain?" Verushka asked, her head nestled beside the rise and fall of his bare chest.
"Mmm?" Cain's chest rumbled beneath her ear. The echo of an earthquake just passed. She thought it was fitting given that the Duke of Bexley has shaken her world. He had thrown it upside down with his smiles and his sonnets and nothing would ever be the same.
Verushka wondered at how far she had come. From within the walls of the pantry she had grown, risen like the bread that she was supposed to bake. And, now she was no longer a pantry maid, but she wasn't just an Agent for Her Majesty's Secret Service either.
She was the Duchess of Bexley, and like the many accomplished women that came before her they shared one important feature. They had each loved the Duke of Bexley.
"I love you, Cain." Verushka whispered against his chest, almost inaudibly amidst the crackles of the fire.
She finally gave a voice to the truth that had burned in her for so many months. No more concealed caresses to convey her emotions. No mouthed words behind the protection of veils to hide her heart. It lay open and unguarded, the hubris of two who had dared to seize a fantastical, unnatural love between a maid and her once master.
Cain savoured the movement of her lips against his skin and tilted her chin up to see the sparkling silver of her eyes. He knew that she had been scared to utter them lest they be pulled apart and so he had waited patiently until the sands of time provided a soft bed to cushion her descent into love. His wife had never looked more vulnerable or more beautiful.
"And I love you, my dear." Cain tucked a glowing lock of hair behind her ear with the caress of gentle fingertips. "I used to think that I walked through this life alone. But in truth, you were always here stoking the pantry fires to warm the entire house and now my heart. You have touched the lives of every person within these walls long before a title made you their mistress." Cain pressed his lips to the soft strands of hair upon her forehead.
"No man was ever so fortunate in his bride and no man will ever suffer so greatly were I to lose you. By marrying me you have entered into a grand life, but also a dangerous one, my dear. I worry that I have brought only more pain into your life." He turned away from her to gaze into the inky blackness of the night beyond the open window.
Verushka lay a palm against his cheek and returned his gaze to hers. "What is pleasure without a little pain?" The dimple in her cheek winked at him with amusement. "This is not the end for us, Your Grace. Our story is only beginning."
"Is that so?" Cain offered her a cheeky smile of his own. "But what genre would such a story be? Surely romance." He pulled her naked lithe form into his arms with a grin that spoke volumes.
"Mm hmm," Verushka agreed, tracing the flat of her palms over the smooth expanse of his chest. "But also a little humour, some politics, and of course mystery."
"And how would you suggest one begins to write such an intriguing tale?" Cain slipped inside his wife and she arched beneath him with a slow smile that burgeoned with all the heat of the pantry oven at full blaze.
"Oh, that's easy. Chapter One-."
The End.
A/N:
Dear Agents
We made it! The happy ending you have all wished for has finally reached fruition. Cain and Verushka are together and all is right. Breathe easy. I hope the time you have spent in fictional Victorian England has given you hope, filled you with passion and in this sometimes crazy world- reminded you that you, like these maids, are capable of greatness.
Thank you for coming on this journey with me. It has been a long and at times trying road but we got there in the end, and as Ver says- "What is a little pleasure without pain?"
A large part of me can't even believe that I am typing this to you now. How is it possible that a story that lived so long in my imagination has 935017 reads and 49429 votes for 79 parts? I can't even begin to count my blessings. All I can say is thank you, from the very core of my writers' heart where words are sometimes extracted with trepidation and at others flow as freely as the Thames. You have created a world for Mina, Verushka and Liara to live in, inside your homes, computers, phones and minds.
I will forever be grateful.
With all my love
Xx Inara
-From the Desk of the Duchess
Glossary:
Cinderella: The Cinderella that English speakers know and love can be traced to the French story Cendrillon, first published in 1697 by Charles Perrault, though Chinese and Greek versions of this classic tale go back to the 9th century CE and 6th century BCE, respectively.
The Book of Common Prayer (1662): http://justus.anglican.org/resources/bcp/1662/marriage.pdf
Kidskin or kid leather is a type of soft, thin leather that is traditionally used for gloves (hence the phrase 'kid gloves,' used since at least 1888 as a metaphor for careful handling). Kidskin is traditionally made from young goat or calf skin. L
Molly Malone: "Molly Malone" (also known as "Cockles and Mussels" or "In Dublin's Fair City") is a popular song set in Dublin, Ireland, which has become the unofficial anthem of Dublin. The song tells the fictional tale of a fishwife who plied her trade on the streets of Dublin, but who died young, of a fever. In the late 20th century a legend grew up that there was a historical Molly, who lived in the 17th century. She is typically represented as a hawker by day and part-time prostitute by night. There is a bronze statue dedicated to Molly Malone in the centre of Dublin.
The Income Tax Act 1842 was an Act of the Parliament of the United Kingdom, passed under the government of Robert Peel, which re-introduced an income tax in Britain, at the rate of 7 (2.9%, there then being 240 pence in the pound) in the pound on all annual incomes greater than £150. It was the first imposition of income tax in Britain outside of wartime. Although promoted as a temporary measure, income tax has been levied continually in Britain ever since.
Braille: is a tactile writing system used by people who are visually impaired. It is traditionally written with embossed paper. Braille is named after its creator, Louis Braille, a Frenchman who lost his sight as a result of a childhood accident. He published in 1837 the first small binary form of writing developed in the modern era.
Lamp black is a type of carbon black obtained from the soot of burned fat, oil, tar, or resin. It is used as a black pigment in cements, ceramics, printing inks, shoe polishes, and paper.
Wedding march: German composer Felix Mendelssohn wrote the "Wedding March" for an 1842 production of Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream, and "Here Comes the Bride" was the Bridal Chorus from Richard Wagner's 1850 opera Lohengrin. However, it did not become popular at weddings until it was selected by Victoria, The Princess Royal (Queen Victoria's daughter) for her marriage to Prince Frederick William of Prussia on 25 January 1858 as she loved Mendelssohn's music. I have included it here a little early with poetic licence. :)
Seesaw: from 1630s, in see-saw-sacke a downe, words in a rhythmic jingle used by children and repetitive motion workers, probably imitative of the rhythmic back-and-forth motion of sawyers working a two-man saw over wood or stone. Reference to a game of going up and down on a balanced plank is recorded from 1704.