Chapter 11: The Marriage: II
Soon the feast began in earnest. Platters of local delicacies appeared, spicy sausages, bright red lobsters, huge colorful prawns, sea urchins, and all kinds of fresh seafood that the local fishermen called "gifts from the ocean."
"What a quiet bunch!" laughed Edmond’s father, raising a glass of wine that gleamed like liquid amber. "You’d never guess this room was full of people celebrating a wedding! Come on, where’s the music and dancing?"
Caderousse sighed. "Well, a guy can’t always be loud and rowdy just because he’s getting married."
"The truth is," Edmond replied, "I’m too happy for noisy celebration. If that’s what you mean, my friend, you’re absolutely right. Sometimes joy affects you the same way sorrow does, it’s almost overwhelming."
Danglars glanced at Fernand, whose emotions were written all over his face.
"What’s wrong with you?" Danglars asked Edmond. "Are you worried about something? I’d say you’re the luckiest man alive right now."
"And that’s exactly what scares me," Edmond admitted. "It seems like humans aren’t meant to have this much pure happiness. It’s like those fairy tale castles we read about as kids, you know, where there are always dragons guarding the gates and monsters you have to defeat before you can claim your prize. I can’t believe I’ve been blessed with something as incredible as becoming Mercédès’ husband."
"Whoa there!" Caderousse laughed. "You haven’t achieved that honor yet! Mercédès isn’t your wife yet. Try acting like a husband now and see how quickly she reminds you that your time hasn’t come!"
Mercédès blushed while Fernand looked like he was about to jump out of his skin, constantly wiping sweat from his forehead.
"Whatever, Caderousse," Edmond grinned. "No point arguing over details. Sure, Mercédès isn’t technically my wife yet, but..." he pulled out his pocket watch, "in an hour and a half, she will be."
Everyone around the table gasped in surprise, except for Edmond’s father, who burst out laughing, showing off his still-perfect white teeth. Mercédès looked delighted, while Fernand’s hand clenched around his knife handle.
"An hour?" Danglars went pale. "What do you mean?"
"Simple," Edmond explained. "Thanks to Mr. Morrel’s influence, and I owe him everything after my father, we’ve cut through all the red tape. We got special permission to skip the usual waiting period. At 2:30, the mayor will be waiting for us at city hall. Since it’s already past 1:15, I think I’m being pretty accurate when I say that in about an hour and thirty minutes, Mercédès will be Mrs. Dantès."
Fernand closed his eyes as a wave of burning pain washed over him. He had to grip the table to keep from falling out of his chair. Despite his best efforts, he couldn’t stop a deep groan from escaping, though it was lost in all the congratulations and cheering.
"Wow!" exclaimed the old man. "You certainly don’t waste time! Arrived yesterday morning, married today at three! I’ve got to hand it to sailors, you guys know how to get things done fast!"
"But wait," Danglars asked nervously, "what about all the other paperwork? The marriage contract? The financial arrangements?"
Edmond laughed. "The contract? That didn’t take long at all! Mercédès doesn’t have any money, and I don’t have any to give her. So our paperwork was pretty simple and definitely didn’t cost much!"
This joke got another round of laughter and applause.
"So what we thought was just an engagement party is actually the wedding reception!" Danglars said.
"No way," Edmond replied. "I’m not going to shortchange you like that. Tomorrow morning I leave for Paris, four days to get there, four days back, plus one day to handle some business I’ve been assigned. I’ll be back by March 1st, and on March 2nd, we’ll throw the real wedding celebration."
The promise of another party made everyone even more excited. Edmond’s father, who had complained about the quiet at the beginning of the meal, now found it hard to get a moment of silence to make a toast to the bride and groom.
Seeing his father’s enthusiasm, Edmond gave him a grateful smile. Mercédès glanced at the clock and made a subtle gesture to Edmond, it was time to think about leaving.
The atmosphere around the table was pure joy, the kind of loud, carefree celebration you get when people don’t have to worry about fancy social rules or proper etiquette. People who hadn’t been able to sit where they wanted got up and moved around to find better company. Everyone talked at once without waiting for answers, just happy to express their own thoughts and feelings.
But Fernand’s pale, stricken expression seemed to be affecting Danglars too. As for Fernand himself, he looked like he was being tortured. Unable to sit still, he was one of the first to leave the table. As if trying to escape the deafening sounds of celebration, he paced back and forth at the far end of the room in complete silence.
Caderousse wandered over just as Danglars, who Fernand seemed desperate to avoid, cornered him.
"You know what?" Caderousse said. The good wine and Edmond’s friendly treatment had completely erased any jealousy he’d felt about his success. "Edmond’s a really good guy. When I see him sitting there next to his gorgeous almost-wife, I can’t help thinking it would have been terrible if we’d gone through with that nasty plan you were cooking up yesterday."
"Oh, that was nothing," Danglars replied. "At first I was worried about what Fernand might do, but when I saw how well he’s controlling himself, he’s even acting as one of his rival’s groomsmen, I knew there was nothing to worry about."
Caderousse looked at Fernand closely. The guy was deathly pale.
"I have to admit," Danglars continued, "it must be a real sacrifice, considering how beautiful the bride is. Man, that future captain of mine is one lucky bastard! I wish I could take his place."
"Shouldn’t we get going?" Mercédès’ sweet voice cut through the chatter. "It just struck two o’clock, and we’re supposed to be there in fifteen minutes."
"Absolutely!" Edmond jumped up from the table. "Let’s go!"
The whole party erupted in cheers and started moving toward the door.