'You...want me to watch you sleep, Lucy?' I enquired. Lucy offered me a wicked smile and pulled off her rain-flecked coat.
'I don't mean anything queer of it,' she giggled. 'Not this time. After our stay at Whitby, I don't think my little sleepwalking problem is entirely solved. I just want you to keep an eye on me so I don't go wandering.' She smiled as she delicately took off her hat, flower petals scattered across it from our walk in the gardens. A petal fell and settled in her pale blonde hair.
'Lucy, my love,' I replied, sitting next to her on the edge of our bed, 'you know I want to make you feel safer, so you needn't worry. But people will get suspicious -'
'They didn't get suspicious before,' Lucy said softly. Her voice was as soft as her hair, as soft as the pink of her dress, as soft as the pale skin under it...
'Mina, my dearest? What do you say?' A half smile spread across her face, her eyes illuminated. I smiled back; looking back at me with those eyes I couldn't very well refuse her.
'Of course. I shall stay with you for as long as you need.' Her hand was sprawled out across the bedsheets, with her neat fingernails clipped short and her wrist pale and small. I knew she was fond of me holding her hand in mine, but not so much as to spread redness over her cheeks. Perhaps it was from leaving the chill of the garden into the warm room.
'Whatever will you tell your suitors?' Lucy asked playfully, looking from her hand to me.
'I don't have any of those, I'm afraid,' I told her. 'Besides you.'
'There's Jonathan-'
'Who is out, may I remind you,' I interrupted. 'We won't see him for a fortnight at the very earliest.'
'Arthur's with him,' Lucy told me. 'Remember?' I leaned in next to her and rested my head on her shoulder. I watched as she picked up my hand in hers and sat them on her lap. Her fingers danced across the back of my hand, brushing gently.
'I rather enjoyed our evening together, my dearest,' she told me. 'I love those gardens. I love being in those gardens with you. I think-'
'Lucy,' I whispered into the velvet-soft skin of her neck.
'I think I just love being with you.' I felt her fingers running through the ends of my hair when I pressed my lips to her neck. She gasped.
'Mina, you know I...I adore this, but I really must sleep.' I pulled away from her at once. Of course. What an idiot I'd been.
'I don't think Jonathan would approve of you kissing me like that,' Lucy told me.
'I doubt it.' Lucy tilted her head slightly to the side and gave me a quizzical look. 'Lucy? My love, what are you thinking?'
'I'm thinking that Arthur probably wouldn't approve of this.' With that, she pressed her lips to mine. Long past the days of being frightened and gentle, she kissed me with all the slowly building passion we had crafted over our evening. Her hand brushed against my scarlet cheeks and her head tilted and her lips pressed over and over my own. I could have been knocked sideways I was so faint with desire. I have never understood how men can spend so little time with their wives; if I were a man and had made a girl fall in love with me, I would spend every minute in her. I'd spend every waking moment in Lucy's arms if I could. I'd spend my sleeping moments watching her, gazing at her eyelashes fluttering and her chest moving gently up and down like a boat on the sea. I love to watch her, and sometimes, when I wake up rather late, I see her gazing back at me, biting her lip and smiling, and I deduce that she feels as much the same.