x. nuptias

[ the wedding ]

"Gosh, Victor's eyes would pop out of their sockets when he sees you later," Isabelle murmured, arranging the veil over her head.

Jenessa shrugged, eyeing herself in the mirror. "I doubt that would happen. You seem to forget the circumstances of our wedding and that our marriage is almost a farce."

"No," the redhead huffed. "You just don't see the way he looks at you."

"What? You're clearly imagining things. He doesn't look at me in any way besides friendship," she said, turning away from the mirror.

Her friend sighed and patted her hand in what seemed to be a patronising gesture. "Sure. Anyway, are you nervous? You're going to be a married woman in less than an hour and when Victor inherits the title, you'll be a Duchess."

"You know I don't care about any of that," Jenessa muttered as her gaze dropped to the sparkling gemstones on her ring finger.

To think that in less than an hour, a gold band would be joining it. The butterflies in her gut tripled and Jenessa glanced away.

"I know," her friend nodded and beamed. "Regardless, you look beautiful."

"Thank you, Isa," she said, turning around in the chair to grasp her friend's hands. "Thank you for being an amazing friend."

Isabelle smiled, squeezing their fingers. "I'll hold you to that when I need a favour from a Duchess or Lady Victor Ashford."

Jenessa grimaced and wrinkled her nose before slowly getting to her feet. The silk and lace of her dress falling in place as she steadied herself on the one-inch heels her mother insisted on.

"Everyone who isn't invited will be so jealous," Isabelle sighed, arranging the folds of the white dress that had intricate detailing and delicate lace. "And thank goodness you refused to have a train—definitely makes things easier when walking."

She snorted at that. God, the fight she had to put up to have her way about that...It was a wonder she walked away unscathed.

A knock sounded on the door and they both froze.

"Is it time already?"

"No, Just twenty minutes more," her friend replied, catching a glimpse of her phone. "Who is it?" she called, hastily making her way to the door.

"Just the future brother-in-law of the dearest Lady Jenessa, of course."

Isabelle turned to her in question and she nodded. Her friend opened the door, letting Callum stroll in, a trouble-making grin on his face.

"What is it? Is something wrong?" Jenessa asked, chewing her lip.

"No, my dear sister," Callum smiled. "But first, I would have to say that you look beautiful. May Victor not have a nosebleed when he sees you."

She sighed, not bothering to resist the urge to roll her eyes. "What is it?"

"I was just hoping that I could speak with you in private," Callum announced, smiling.

She darted her eyes to Isabelle who nodded. "I'll just go and make sure everything is going according to plan," she said, giving her hand one last comforting squeeze.

Once they were alone, Jenessa fidgeted slightly as Callum remained silent, preferring to stand near the door to study her.

"I hope that your friendship with a certain...adversary of our family wouldn't affect anything," he began.

"Adversary?" she echoed, furrowing her eyebrows.

And then, it clicked.

"You mean Henry?" she guessed and glanced away, shaking her head. "I wouldn't exactly say we're friends—more of a simple acquaintance. He's been rather bothersome as of late."

"I hope so," Callum said, tilting his head, eyes boring right into hers. "You know," he started and she noted that he sounded uncommonly serious. "My brother may be many things. You've seen the papers, you know about our family. But, ultimately, he's a good man."

She couldn't decide if she was more thrown off by Callum's sudden serious nature or the fact that he was trying to...protect Victor.

From what, she didn't know but she understood the gesture and the intentions.

"I know," she murmured slowly, peering up at him through her lashes. "I know he's not what the papers say and I promise you that I'll treat him well."

Something like relief and warmth flashed across his face as he tilted his head and offered her a small smile. "I'm glad to hear that."

Before she could reply, her father bustled in, looking stupidly haughty and proud as music began to filter into the room.

"Ready?" he questioned, offering his arm.

This time, she wasn't expecting any wellwishes or last minute endearments from him and she was glad of that.

For if Edward Caldwell had anything to say to his eldest daughter, he didn't say them.

She caught sight of Callum shooting a disgruntled look at them before leaving and that made her huff out a small laugh.

No one ever said the Caldwell family was normal. Or heaven forbid anything akin to that.

"Ready," she confirmed after a slow exhale, grabbing the bouquet of lilies and looping her arm through his.

It was time.

* * * * *

To be honest, the ceremony was mostly a blur and well, Jenessa would admit that she did have thoughts of running out but not for the reasons she would've thought.

She did remember walking down the aisle, the gasps and murmurs when she made her appearance, Isabelle walking ahead of her, looking absolutely breathtaking in her dress. Or how her father had strutted down the aisle, soaking up the attention and the new found status of being somewhat related to the distinguished Ashfords.

But most of all, she remembered how Victor looked and how it made her heart ache.

He'd looked incredibly dashing in his tuxedo, the dark jacket outlining his form perfectly, his hair slicked back, and how he'd looked at her—eyes warm and mouth set in a slight gentle curve.

Otherwise, he was his usual imposing cool self. Not that she was expecting anything else. That wasn't his style.

It almost made her want to cry at the what ifs.

That being said, she could distantly recall being led up the raised dais, bringing her face-to-face with Victor and the vicar, of how their eyes had locked, and the vows she'd murmured and sliding his gold band on his finger.

That was until the vicar said those five words.

"You may kiss the bride."

That was the only time in the entire ceremony where she was fully paying attention, her mind being snapped out of the haze it'd been in.

She blinked, eyes widening when the vicar looked at them expectantly. Darting her gaze back to Victor, she blinked twice more in quick succession at the man who in return, stared back at her with an impassive expression on his face.

Was she seriously going to have her first kiss with the man who was her husband in front of other people watching?

Nervously, she licked her lower lip as he took a step closer to her.

With her heart thrumming away in her chest, she watched with bated breath as Victor slowly lifted the thin veil over her head, his face nearing hers.

Her gaze lowered to his mouth, her lips parting as Victor dipped his head and she closed her eyes—

—as a perfunctory chaste peck was given.

The sound of polite clapping made her open her eyes as Victor stepped backwards and avoided her bewildered stare.

That's it? That was just their first kiss? A measly peck? Sure, she wasn't hoping for anything, but that brief peck was not what she'd been expecting either.

Quickly composing herself, she lifted the light weight of her dress and turned to face the crowd as her husband helped her off the raised dais.

Her husband.

She paused at the first step and inhaled sharply at that.

She was now officially a married woman.

Mind in a haze, she turned towards Victor who had his left hand stretched out for her to take. She focused on the gold band on his finger, heart slamming in her chest before she looked down at her own hand—at the matching ring on hers.

Oh.

The feel of his hand tucking hers into his arm brought her back into focus and determinedly, she forced her body to cooperate, taking one step at a time down the aisle.

However, no matter how fleeting the kiss was (if it could even be called a kiss), if she concentrated hard enough, she could still feel the heat of his mouth against hers.

Her cheeks warmed and Jenessa forced a smile at the people who were cheering and clapping. Automatically, her grip on his bicep tightened and she couldn't help but chance a glance up at him.

What she was greeted with, was an actual genuine smile on his face. It was slight, but an identical twin to the one he'd graced her with when she walked into the hall with her father.

She gaped at him, lips parting, breath caught in her lungs, but before she could say anything, Victor looked away.

* * * * *

Like the ceremony, the reception was pretty much of a blur to her too.

She could remember the toasts, the posturing her parents did, the envious gazes shot her way because of the man she'd married—not that she could blame anyone, Victor looked ready to break hearts.

Additionally, she could recall William and Isabella's speeches, how sincere and heartfelt they were that it brought tears to her eyes.

It was a stretch, but if she focused hard enough, she could briefly remember the cake cutting, the first waltz that she and Victor had.

And that was it.

It was ridiculous considering the reception lasted close to four hours and if she had conversations with anyone except her family and close friends, she couldn't remember them.

How could she?

Everything was so startling and she could hardly grasp the fact that she was now Lady Victor Ashford.

The reality of it was daunting and really, how was it that everyone at their wedding had accepted it before she did?

Where she was a bundle of frenzied thoughts, Victor was perfectly at ease, the aloof expression he wore was like second skin. However, she knew him well enough that he was irked and tired and wanted nothing more than to be in solitude and away from people.

She could relate with that. Her feet were aching and her cheeks hurt from smiling and talking and laughing.

Another hour passed and finally—finally!—the reception ended.

With her husband impatiently leading them out of the hall, she almost sagged against the wall from sheer exhaustion.

"Get changed," Victor ordered, once they were alone in the hotel room.

"What?"

He sighed as he undid the bowtie at his neck. "The bag on the bed there, it has your clothes. Get changed."

"Why?" she asked, lifting her skirt to kick off her heels.

"To catch our flight, but if you're fine with boarding the plane wearing that dress, I won't say anything." He sounded exasperated and she glanced up to see that he was shedding off his jacket.

"Plane? Where are we going?"

"Italy," he answered distractedly, gritting his teeth as he tried to remove his cufflinks.

She blinked. "Italy?"

Victor narrowed his eyes. "Yes, for two weeks. You mentioned you've wanted to go there and I figured our honeymoon will be as good an occasion."

Jenessa gaped at him, mouth falling open before it formed into a brilliant smile that stretched from one ear to the other.

"Oh thank you, thank you! I can't believe it!" she beamed, feet turning to him. "That's perfect!"

Without thinking, she hugged him, lifting herself on her toes to his height, and planted a kiss on his cheek. Letting out a delighted laugh, she spun around, the silk of her skirts swishing around her legs as she grabbed the bag and darted into the ensuite bathroom.

If Jenessa had lingered behind in the room, she would've noticed her husband pausing and watching her retreating form.

* * * * *

Jenessa really shouldn't be surprised that the Ashfords owned a private plane, but she couldn't help but marvel at the aircraft.

"Here," Victor handed her a small purse, a purse she recognised belonged to her. "Isabelle packed it for you. She said it contained all of your necessary things."

"She didn't tell me about this," she remarked, settling onto the chair opposite his, rummaging her bag for the recent novel she'd shoved in a few days ago.

"It was a surprise," he replied, sliding a laptop and a folder out of the briefcase on his left.

"Oh," she murmured, shifting into a comfortable position that her jeans and a comfy cardigan allowed her in. "Well, it's a lovely surprise and I still can't believe—"

Jenessa cut herself off and stared, form frozen as her eyes focused on her husband as he began typing away.

"What?" he arched a brow, blue eyes flicking towards her.

"You're wearing a shirt and a leather jacket," she pointed out, stunned. "And jeans!"

He rolled his eyes. "I'm glad that you have fantastic observation skills."

"You're so funny that tears spring to my eyes every time you open your mouth," she replied dryly, novel forgotten on her lap. "But I'm serious. I've never seen you in anything but your suits and dress shirts."

"Am I not allowed to wear anything besides them, then?" he asked mildly.

It was good that nothing changed between them, she mused, grimacing and slumped back into the chair. "Never mind. Forget I said anything."

In return, Victor turned back to his work and she gazed at the hardcopy of Macbeth sitting in her lap and turned to Act II, where the crucial murder of King Duncan took place.

Despite being excited about the trip, she couldn't help but feel tired, the day's activities had taken their toll and maybe, if she just closed her eyes for a minute, she'll be more awake.

* * * * *

Setting aside the folder, he closed his eyes, tilting his head and rubbed the sides of his temples. Clearly, a new accountant was needed, if not there wouldn't be such a huge cockup in the reports.

Victor was just lucky that he did know some accounting basics, otherwise, he would be sorely fucked.

Hearing the lack of turning pages, he looked up and found his new wife of at least six hours dozing off.

He halted, gaze lowering to her hand where the rings sat on her fourth finger before his eyes darted to the gold band on his own hand.

Exhaling heavily, he set the laptop to his right and grabbed one of the woollen blankets his family kept from the overhead compartments.

Gently, he draped the fleece over her form and froze when a tiny sigh was emitted from her lips.

He stilled, but when Jenessa simply stirred and shifted, he hastily made his way back to his seat and delved back into his work.

He was not going to question himself on why he did that.

* * * * *

Jenessa would admit that she was too in awe at the sights the moment they touched down. She was hardly aware of anything else except that she was in the country she'd dreamt of visiting for years.

Even during the ride from the airport to their hotel, she couldn't tear her gaze from the window of the car.

And she refused to entertain Victor's side glances of amusement. Yes, she noticed them. She wasn't that oblivious

Funnily enough, it was only when they entered their hotel room that she realised something.

It was tonight—their wedding night.

Was he...

She cast an unsure glance in her husband's direction, slowly setting one of their duffel bags onto the bed.

The bed.

Her eyes widened, noting the only double bed in the suite.

It was a large suite, complete with a sofa, armchairs, a coffee table, desks, a balcony and a large bathroom and the double bed.

Her cheeks warmed.

As though Victor knew where her thoughts were heading, he stepped away from their luggages and cleared his throat, looking distinctly awkward. "I'm going to take a look around the hotel."

With that, he was out of the room, the door shutting firmly before she could reply and Jenessa swallowed hard.

Did he meant that...Was he expecting that? Or was he avoiding her? Honestly, what happened to clear cut communication? And she really was too tired for all this thinking and guessing.

Hesitantly, she turned back to the double bed and bit her lower lip.

She didn't sleep well in new places. Even more so when she had to share the bed with someone else. Not that she had any experience in that, but when Isabelle came over for sleepovers, it'd been a problem.

Tucking a curl behind her ear, she sighed. There was no point debating on what to do anyway, and while Victor was gone, she might as well scrub off the remains of her makeup and get a shower.

An hour passed and Jenessa figured that Victor was definitely avoiding her. No matter, she shrugged, sliding into bed, her toes curling into the soft sheets. She was patient. She could wait for him.

Just as she settled onto the bed, book on her lap, the door opened and she glanced up as Victor stepped in. The sight of his eyes widening before he ran his fingers through his hair almost made her snort.

"You're awake."

She shrugged, thumbing through Macbeth once more. "Mmhmm."

"I thought you'll be asleep by now," he said, making his way further into the room, shrugging off his jacket.

She eyed his arms, the sleeves of his black shirt clinging on to his biceps. Had he really been this fit the entire time?

"I have a confession to make," she said, setting the book down. "I tend to have difficulty sleeping in a new environment and maybe it's best that we don't share the same bed tonight after..."

He narrowed his eyes. "Yes, and what will everyone think?"

She tilted her head and raised her brows. "Since when did you care about what others thought?"

Victor pinched the bridge of his nose and crossed his arms over his chest. Again, her gaze flittered over his arms and her mouth went dry when a lock of his hair fell over his forehead.

Jenessa didn't think she'd ever seen him so...unkempt. A certain thrill shot down her spine.

"We're not doing anything tonight but that doesn't mean anyone else has to know that."

Was that some male pride thing going on? But more importantly, they weren't going to...?

She paused, her brows creasing. "We're not?"

"No. I told you that I won't push you for anything unless you want it," he said curtly, shifting his jaw. "Besides, I'm knackered. Goodnight."

Jenessa watched as he stalked into the bathroom and shut the door firmly. Well that did clear up the issue, she groused as she placed the book back onto the bedside table before huddling under the covers.

Hopefully, she'll be able to fall asleep before Victor came out.

* * * * *

Nope.

She was no closer to falling asleep than she was when she got into bed.

Jenessa assumed it'd been close to an hour since her husband exited the bathroom, the bed dipping under his weight before his breathing evened out.

Yep, she was definitely not sleepy despite the day she'd had.

Staring up at the ceiling, she twisted her feet in the sheets and sighed. Like she'd expected, she was far from dozing off, too aware of the hard masculine body lying inches away from her.

Albeit the space between them, she could feel the warmth he was giving out and she would be a filthy liar if she claimed that she didn't want to shift closer towards him.

Jenessa turned her head, eyes focused on the still form of her husband. She would admit that she was envious of his ability to sleep anywhere without difficulty.

Also, shouldn't there be a guide for this?

This referring to sharing a bed with your husband and the proper ways in doing so. Considering the fact that they weren't exactly in a loving marriage and all.

God, what the hell, she thought furiously, feeling the urge to change her position.

Shifting slowly, she winced when the covers made a rustling sound, fearing the slight possibility that Victor was still awake and became irritated with the number of times she moved about in the past hour.

Satisfied with being on her back, she blinked up at the ceiling and attempted to silently adjust the coverlet over her torso inch-by-inch.

"Stop moving."

Jenessa froze and sighed heavily. The jig was up. "I'm sorry, I couldn't sleep."

"Neither can I when the whole bed moves when you do," he said snappishly, voice loud despite his back facing her.

She scowled and sat up straight, the thick covers falling to her lap. "I said I was sorry and I did tell you that it wasn't ideal for us to share the same bed tonight."

The bed moved as her husband turned to face her, an irritated glower adorning his face.

"How the fuck was I to know you're a bloody insomniac?"

Any other woman in her circles would have gasped in outraged at the vulgarities coming from his mouth, but Jenessa was used to them. Lyra and Isabelle tended to have a certain mouth when they were furious.

She glared, brushing them off. "I'm not an insomniac! I just have trouble sleeping in a new environment," she gritted through her teeth.

"Look," he all but growled. "I'm fucking knackered and all I want to do is sleep so will you stop talking and moving?" Victor grouched, eyes flashing.

She scoffed and crossed her arms, completely oblivious to the way her husband's eyes had darted to the low neckline of her nightgown for a brief moment.

"I said I was sorry," she grumbled. "And I'll try to go to sleep, but make sure you don't cross into my half of the bed," she snapped.

"You're delusional if you think I want to," Victor growled and turned away, back facing her again.

She rolled her eyes and adjusted her pillow before pulling the covers to her chest. Men.

Feeling petty, she too turned to her side, ensuring that her back faced his. She grimaced. At least this was one new thing she'd learned about her husband— that he was a total arse if he didn't get his sleep.

Point noted, thank you very much.

* * * * *

A/N: *chants* fun and games, fun and games, fun and games.

I hope this was fun to read and a good apology for the short prior update! So, a hint is that things will be heating up because they are literally stuck together for two weeks straight, having only each other for company.

As always, comments feed my dead heart and I'll love to know what are all of your thoughts! <3 ANd not to be melodramatic, some sarcastic commenter almost made me not want to continue this but i couldn't bear disappointing the rest of you. BUt that being said, Don't like, don't read. Anyway, have a lovely day and tysm for reading!

P8/4/19