40A/N: Hey friends, quick apology (quelle surprise!) for my lack of motivation to edit (I haven't been motivated to do anything!) since I've had this chapter physically written since before Christmas!
Enjoy!
Chapter 20: Falling Into Your Eyes*
"Before life separates us, before it flickers out, I want to surrender to you and waltz to the edge of time."**
Only a few weeks remained until the wedding, but the engaged couple had plenty of preparations to keep them busy during that time. Mary found pleasure in busying herself with household tasks, happy to have a moment of rest after 12 years of nearly non-stop work. She kept things tidy for herself, but still received a few guests – relatives whom she'd not been in contact with since she was last in London.
News about the wedding spread rapidly amongst her eccentric relations, and she was grateful that they'd all written her to request a formal invitation from the bride; she wasn't one to turn down a chance to be with family!
However, she much preferred solitude, and thus limited such visits to the mornings, giving her the whole afternoon for herself, and the evenings to cook up new and exciting things for her fiancé.
So, when Bert returned home from "work" – during which time he was actually at the Lily of the Valley estate with the rest of her siblings – he was greeted by a variety of baked goods and a nice hot meal.
"You needn't trouble yourself with all of this," he'd tell her, but she'd shake her head, kissing him hello. "I enjoy cooking, and can't just sit around all day. You're out working hard for me, I can do this little thing for you."
For her! If only she knew! Bert mentally noted, hugging her tight in gratitude. He was relieved with each passing day as he recalled her previous anxiety. Now, there was only excitement about the future they would get to spend together.
Some mixed feelings returned when the blessed day finally arrived, but it wasn't derived from fear; it was anxiety that comes with a major change. They couldn't be happier with how their lives had come together.
As the excitement of the family gathering settled down, Mary stood at the back of the church, shaking. Her sisters surrounded her, but even Mary herself couldn't justify her worry.
"I am marrying my best friend," she proclaimed in an effort to restore herself. She had awaited this day for over a decade – perhaps, she feared, it wouldn't live up to her expectations.
But that idea she quickly shook away – it was too absurd to believe!
"Every bride has their doubts," came Joy's soothing voice," it's perfectly normal when faced with such a big event. Just let those butterflies melt into happy anticipation: it's a scary step into a joyous new life."
The eldest took Mary's hand in her own, kissing both of her cheeks.
"Anyone can see how much Bert loves you – truly, deeply, wonderfully," Bernadette added, "You've only the bliss of a future together to look forward to."
All these loving words helped to calm the bride's nerves, but still struggled to slow her racing heart.
Then, a hand graced her shoulder, turning her around and pulling her into a comforting embrace.
"Oh, Uncle Albert, thank you – I'm not sure I'd be able to get through today without you by my side," she proclaimed, beaming up at the man who had stepped in to give her away.
He smiled back, wiping tears from his eyes.
"James would have been so proud to see his beautiful little girl today."
"I'm sure he's smiling down at her right now," Joy added.
The family stood close together, exchanging words of ease and positivity, until Jane came running in announcing, "it's time."
The music swelled as the doors first opened – Jane and Michael leading the way, followed by Angel, then Bernadette, each on the arm of one of Bert's friends.
The actual event was kept rather small, or as small as could be when half the chimney sweeps in London insisted upon their being there.
"But Mary Poppins is like family t'us!" they'd protested when Bert had tried to restrain the guest list. Of course, Mary agreed with the sentiment, and couldn't bear the thought of excluding anyone as kind.
Joy gave her sister a quick kiss upon the brow before it was her turn to walk alone.
It was as though the world stood still when Mary finally made her entrance. The lightness of the hall blinded her, and she squeezed her uncle's arm perhaps a bit too tightly.
The older man chuckled and patted his niece's hand; both reactions helped steady her.
She looked up, seeing Reginald offering a handkerchief to his brother.
Mary smiled broadly, catching Bert's gaze. He responded with a grin of his own, and each of their smiles only grew until Mary reached the altar, tears coming to her eyes, just as they were already caught up in her love's. She hardly felt her uncle kiss her cheeks as she made her way over to Bert – her almost-husband, the love of her life.
After the ceremony, friends and family were encouraged to join the bride and groom out in the country for the remainder of the afternoon. Nearly all planned to stay the night as well; having no staff hired as yet, there would be plenty of rooms!
Bert was positively giddy the whole ride out, eager to show Mary what he'd been doing the past few weeks. Her sisters had mentioned that they would be fixing the place up a bit so as to make it presentable for guests after the wedding. However, she had no inclination as to the extent of the restoration, nor Bert's involvement in it.
And, of course, she knew her and her husband – her husband! – would be spending the night there. They had already decided against a wedding tour – Mary had been out of London long enough.
Waking up to a foggy London morning, grey skies that only hinted at a sun trying to peek through, may not have been such a pleasure to the majority of denizens, but even the dreariest of things can instill nostalgia within the heart of one who has been away from home for so long.
The entire day had been a delight, full of love, but Mary still felt some residual anxiety. Now, having a moment alone before bed, she brushed it off as nothing more than the ceremony having delayed her true feelings.
"We're married now," she thought, tsking at her odd emotions, "everything has worked out. I am content, but why am I not quite happy?"
She pondered this as she sat at her vanity brushing out her hair. Her sisters had done a wonderful job of making her boudoir feel cozy and familiar.
The new master bedroom was more removed from the rest of the guests' and servants' rooms. The space was once a nursery for Joy and Mary (and even Angel for a moment) and was much larger than the other rooms. These variations are what incline Mary to select it for her and Bert.
A staircase spiraled down from it in one corner, connecting to what used to be a nanny's room. This is where Mary was sat, pitying herself as she studied her porcelain complexion. With a heavy sigh, she tightened the tie on her dressing gown and ascended the stairs, the ornate lace of the garment trailing up the steps behind her. She let the childhood memories of the room overcome her, a subconscious distraction from what awaited her atop the staircase.
When she stepped up into the room, she paused to admire how it turned out; she felt that flaunting one's wealth too overtly to be distasteful, but she hadn't minded doing such in here. It was a bedroom afterall, who would be seeing it but herself and her husband?
And that man was lying upon the bed, sketchbook in hand. Climbing in next to him, she wrapped her arms around his neck, kissed his shoulder, and looked down at his drawing – he'd been sketching her, encapsulating her look of wonder upon entering the room.
"Had I really stood there so long?" she asked, nuzzling her nose against his cheek.
He laughed, turning to kiss her. "Not so very long, love, but I am an artiste," she rolled her eyes at his emphasis on each syllable, "and I can capture things quite quickly."
The open, modestly decorated room felt oppressive in that moment, distracting him from his drawing. Instead, he abandoned it, placing the book and pencil on his table, and turned back to give his wife a proper kiss.
He felt her smile against his own grin, and made bold to guide her still closer to him – closer than she'd ever been to him. To his relief, she seemed to appreciate this gesture as much as he himself did, and she twisted her fingers through his hair, inadvertently deepening their kiss.
Feeling encouraged by her positive responses, Bert allowed his palm to smooth over her leg, pulling the light fabrics of her dressing gown and night dress up as he did so. As he slipped his hand further past her knee, now under the garments; he felt her tense, then let out a shaky breath.
He pulled his hand away, disentangling himself from her. She remained looking down, her eyes closed, her rosy cheeks growing a darker shade of red.
"Why did you stop?" she whispered whilst fidgeting with the lace floating around her.
"Mary, my love, are you all right?" Bert replied sweetly. He purposefully ignored her question, leaning down to try to look into her eyes.
"I'm quite fine, thank you," came her cold reply. It sounded as though she was trying more so to convince herself of this feeling than him.
"Love," he began again, cautious of where he was about to steer their conversation, "I think I know where your mind 'as gone, and I love you too much to do anything that'll keep it there."
Silence fell between them for a moment as Mary curled herself under the blankets, inviting Bert to follow suit.
"I hate him," she finally mumbled into the sheets. The pain in her tone pulled at her fiancé's heart, and he couldn't help asking to hold her. With a cry of both helplessness and want, she answered his proposal by nuzzling up closely to him.
"I know, my love, I know."
"I'm sorry for ruining everything tonight," she continued, hesitantly.
But Bert quickly protested, "you'ven't ruined anything, Mar!" gently, "Today was everything I could have hoped for; I married my best friend – the love o' my life, – what more could I want?"
She pulled away to look into his eyes, a look which communicated to him to stop trying to avoid her previous insinuation.
"There is nothing more that I want tonight than to sleep beside you, with you safely in my arms," he persisted, kissing her hair.
"You may now be my wife, but you are still my best friend, and I always want you to feel like you can trust me – no matter what."
Mary managed a small smile at this sentiment – just enough to affirm it's genuity; Bert returned the gesture by leaving a lingering kiss upon her brow.
She took a deep breath, taking a moment to recollect herself as she tried to push all the bad memories from her mind. She accepted that they weren't going away, but was determined to not let them leave her unhappy whilst in the arms of the man she truly loved.
He smoothed his hand down her arm, a sensation that caused her to relax even further into him. She yawned in response, and Bert let out a light laugh.
Sighing, "now this is the perfect ending to a day which has been a dream come true," he tentatively placed his free hand under her chin, drawing her lips to his.
Moments from contact, he stopped, asking "is this all right," looking thoughtfully into her half-closed eyes.
Her smile spread as her lashes fluttered shut and she closed the gap between them. As they parted she responded, "it's more than all right my love," brushing her lips to his once more, "it's practically perfect."
Pulling away, she took Bert's hand and kissed his palm. Then, she lent closer into his embrace, laying her head upon his chest; and she fell asleep knowing that this was real, feelings the reassuring rhythm of the rise and fall of his chest, and reveling in the comforting sound of his heartbeat in her ear.
So… this went up a tad later than I intended – how do we feel about me posting the Christmas-themed Epilogue anyway ?
Notes on the chapter title et. al.:
*The original title of the song is "Tomber Dans Ses Yeux" – and in french, "ses" is both masculine and feminine, and is used as both in this song, so I opted to translate it as "your" for my title because it's more straight-forward.
**There isn't an English version of this song so I tried to translate it in a way that still sounded poetic. In spite of the proficiency that comes with a college minor, I am not fluent in french, so apologies if it was done poorly!
