A/N: I've had this idea in mind pretty much since 3.6 aired, and finally got round to writing it. I did wonder if I could get away without an M rating, but Kitty and Frank had other ideas ;)
I don't own Mr Selfridge, unfortunately.
Something to Celebrate
Kitty was still smiling when she got back to the store, and she didn't intend to stop for one second. She had good reason – several good reasons – to do so, at long last. That thug was off the streets once more and would soon be behind bars, exactly where he belonged. The visions that crept from the back of her mind to visit her unawares were receding further each day, replaced instead by thoughts far more pleasant.
Most happily of all, the rift between her and Frank was healing, and now there was hardly any distance between them whatsoever. Since he had dropped by to give her the news, near breathless and smiling, it was as though they had been transformed into two different people. The same people as they had been before it had all happened. Stronger, she thought. Whatever had gone, they would dwell on it no longer. She felt it in the depths of her heart when she looked into his eyes and held tight onto his hand, circling it with her own.
From now on, everything would be alright.
The lightness that had carried them along Oxford Street persisted throughout their lunch, where Frank had whisked her into the lobby restaurant of a rather fine hotel. She laughed it seemed every other minute, and his gaze softened each time he heard her. He held her hand, his fingertips stroking the skin of her wrist absent-mindedly. With a more conscious line of thought, Kitty let her free hand dip beneath the table that covered their laps, landing her fingers upon his knee and inching them slowly upwards. She giggled inwardly when he flustered, the alarm in his eyes growing knowing and distinctly mischievous, a spark dancing up amongst the flames.
Before they departed he kissed her, chastely as they were in public, but the touch of his lips upon hers brought thrills, leaving her at once comforted, safe and very loved, due to the fact that he obviously couldn't wait until they were completely alone. Seconds later she had realised it was the first time they had kissed since that dreadful night, and in many ways it felt just like the very first time their lips had met.
There was a lot for her to smile about, indeed.
She took a breath to set the butterflies in her stomach back in their place, and put on a different smile as she pushed through the doors, resuming her professional air.
The store seemed especially busy for this time in the afternoon, with more women following inside, looking wide-eyed and whispering amongst themselves. Perhaps they were visitors to London and had only heard of the prestige of Selfridges without ever having stepped inside. Either way, she was never one to miss an opportunity, and clasped the latest bottle of Yardley scent in her hands, stepping forward to greet the new customers with an easy confidence.
"Hello ladies, may I interest you in a spritz of..."
In a stampede, the women dismissed the Beauty display altogether, and Kitty didn't refrain from letting out a huff, raising her eyebrows at the scene. It was the first port of call for any female customer – at least the ones who had the slightest bit of good taste – and she felt deflated, especially after the lovely way in which she had spent the last hour.
Turning her head to the counter she was equally puzzled to see that it was empty of interest, aside from Jessie standing behind it, looking rather awkward.
"Where have you been?" the younger woman asked, a little too abruptly for Kitty's liking.
"Out," she responded curtly, a flash within her irises stopping the smile from curving her lips and giving herself away. "Luckily it doesn't seem like I've missed much."
She had to wonder whether the absence of custom had anything to do with Jessie being left to hold the fort. She was learning, and had certainly come on a lot in the past few months, but the girl still had the habit of being ditzy and forgetful when it came to certain things, new items in particular. Jessie simply didn't have the instinct, knowledge or passion for the products, and sometimes Kitty thought perhaps she would be better suited to another department entirely. But she had persevered so far, and wasn't quite willing to give up on her pupil just yet.
The look of confusion she was met with didn't give her the greatest confidence at this particular moment.
"What is it, Miss Pertree?"
The longer Jessie remained apparently dumbfounded, the more exasperated she became.
"Didn't you see, when you came past...?" the dark-haired girl finally blurted.
"See what?"
She had been in a world of her own, clearly.
"That's why they're all..." Jessie nodded to the centre of the shop floor, where a small crowd had gathered, "...coming inside for a closer look."
Kitty shook her head, glancing over her shoulder in curiosity, and with more than a touch of jealousy remaining.
"Well," she pouted as silence stretched on, hands clamped upon her hips, "I'd better see what's keeping them all from us for myself, if you're not going to spit it out."
She didn't take notice of the blush upon Jessie's face as she strode across the floor, an added click sparking the heels of her shoes in her sudden mission. The crowd was tight-knit, and she had to manoeuvre slightly to make her way through and get an unobscured view of the mannequins. When she did, a small gasp left her, a manicured hand stopping short of shielding her mouth and resting at her collarbone instead. Around her a couple of the customers giggled, out of shock or embarrassment, or both in combination, she surmised.
Kitty was neither. A little surprised, perhaps, to see such garments in front of her eyes – close enough even to touch – when previously she had only ever glimpsed them in magazines imported from abroad. They certainly weren't the kind of things that were on sale in England, at least not on such obvious display. From here she noticed the details of lace and silk, rows of little buttons in one place and dainty ribbons in another entirely. Shades of colours, all soft and subtle, designed to be alluring.
Intrigued was the best way to describe her reaction towards the – what did the French call them, there was a certain, better word...
Lingerie.
She became aware that she had stopped by too long, and with an exaggerated tut and flounce of her skirt headed back to her home in the store, doing her best to ignore the ideas that had started in her head.
"Back to work, Miss Pertree," she announced, seizing one of the darker red lipsticks from the collection as Jessie straightened her back, looking for direction. "If they're going to be that daring, they'll need something to accompany it."
A couple of nights later, before they went out for dinner – another treat that they had both decided they were entitled to – Kitty pulled the box from beneath the bed, the place she thought was best to conceal it for now. She lifted the lid carefully, her breath hitching as she was met with the delicate tissue paper that covered her purchase from view. Luckily she had been able to take advantage of the monthly staff allowance of one purchase from the stock instead of the shop floor; it was not that she was ashamed about her choice, she just preferred not to have some of her closest colleagues be aware of what was a private matter.
Her fingers delved underneath, coming into contact with the cool silk. For the briefest, most thrilling of secret moments, she considered herself to be quite risqué.
"Kitty," Frank's voice travelled up the staircase, stopping her before she could go any further, "the reservation's at eight."
"Just a minute," she shouted down, arranging the paper neatly back in place and sliding the box away – not before giving herself a smile in the mirror of the dresser.
The surprise would keep for a little while yet.
Frank sighed shutting the front door behind him, quickly discarding his overcoat and hat and hanging the used umbrella by its handle onto the nearest free hook. He knew already that Kitty wouldn't be best pleased by the drops of water that were fast pooling onto the floor of the hall, but there was time to take care of that before she got home – it was still early in the afternoon, even if the sudden downpour had made it seem closer to the evening.
The newspapers he had bought had survived the weather, the print still readable and only the front page of the one on top of the stack slightly soggy. He had unfurled that particular publication and started to scan before venturing to the front room, keen to take advantage of the peace whilst his sister-in-law was also at the store.
He didn't make it past the hallway before he heard a noise from upstairs. More than a singular sound, at a frequency that seemed startling, given that he was in the house alone.
And then a voice, apparently talking to herself.
"Kitty?" he ventured, even though there was no mistaking her tones.
"Frank," she replied, out of sight. "I...I came home at lunch. I had a terrible headache."
"Are you alright? I can go back out and fetch you something."
He was reaching blindly for the coat and hat he hadn't long got rid of, perilously close to tripping over one of his shoes.
"No, I'm fine now," her voice chirruped. "Besides, you must be drenched."
"Escaped the worst of it," he smiled, removing his jacket. The sleeves of his shirt were a little damp, billowing out at the shoulders. He undid the buttons at his wrists, rolling them to just below his elbows. "I'll leave you to rest for a while."
He was nearly over the threshold for a second time when she called him back.
"Come upstairs."
He glanced up the staircase, half-expecting her to materialise in the next moment and growing more curious when she didn't.
"You must want to change. Before dinner, at least."
"That's a while off yet," he answered, halfway up the stairs.
He could see that the door to their bedroom wasn't fully closed, and thought that he could catch a glimpse of her inside – a flash of crimson, from her hair or perhaps her lips instead.
Hands in pockets, he stood outside somewhat stubbornly.
"Frank!" she exclaimed, still hidden from view. "What's taking you?"
He stifled a laugh at her impatience. "Just thinking about something Harry mentioned the other day. Something I may be able to do at the store."
"You can tell me about it later," she said, not put out in the slightest. "For now, don't think, and just come inside."
"Your wish is my command," he replied. "As ever."
He prodded the door open with his foot, expecting to find her in a new dress – she brought a bag home from the store not that long ago, and had never shown him what was inside.
What she wore instead left him entirely speechless.
Kitty pursed her lips, having applied a fresh coat of lipstick just before he had got home. Her timing had been excellent, though she hadn't entirely planned it to happen that way. And admittedly, she hadn't had a headache at all. She just needed to take her chance, while Connie was at work and entirely busy with a new load of stock. It had meant to be raining, though she didn't fancy it when she stepped out of the store and the sun had been shining. Lucky for her, the weather had turned not too long afterwards.
She kept her eyes on Frank, rather than looking down at herself. The ivory camisole skimmed her thighs, the small lace panel running across her stomach. Beneath, the matching set was made of the same silky material, feeling distinct against her skin. She edged a fingertip against the trimming of the strap holding the garment upon her shoulder, keeping in mind how the colour contrasted with the shade of her hair.
It wasn't the most obvious reason why she had chosen it amongst the others, though it was one which was just as good.
He hadn't moved an inch, except to rake his gaze from her toes to her head, and back again.
"Has the cat got your tongue?" she teased, placing one of her legs in front of the other, causing the camisole to ride up a little.
"In a manner of speaking," he answered in a voice that was slightly uneven, which caused her to smirk at first, and then giggle.
Her question had shaken him out of his stupor; she watched the line of his back and his arm as he clicked the door softly shut, turning his attentions swiftly to her again once it was done.
For a man who relied on words, he was still at a loss for them.
"We do have a lot to celebrate," she went the way to explaining, holding out her hands to him as he came closer.
The touch of their palms made her shiver. Judging by the look in his eyes, he had experienced the same reaction.
"It's been...difficult," her voice lowered, as though doing so would make everything disappear.
His fingers slid against hers, and she remembered so much of where they had been, so suddenly.
"Now that..." she began, quickly diverting her thoughts from anything else other than her husband in front of her, "I want to put all this behind us, for good."
She glanced up from their entwined hands, happy to see the smile on his face.
"It is," he uttered, almost whispering in her ear.
Kitty near trembled at the closeness, Frank's mouth brushing her cheek. It wasn't a kiss, exactly; more of a light caress. A promise on the edge of something more.
She steadied herself, placing a hand upon him and watching as he craned back, taking her in full view again. She'd worn something far more modest for their wedding, but she wanted to be bold. It felt right, and not just to bridge the distance that had grown between them.
It seemed that she had made the right choice; he couldn't keep his eyes from her, and the look she found made her more confident.
"I've missed you," she confessed, her own gaze travelling the contours of his face, her fingertips aching to touch.
"Kitty, I – "
"I've missed us."
She held her breath, seeing some of the fire leave his eyes. Perhaps it was too soon, after all, and she was rushing ahead.
"So have I," Frank replied, with an intensity that made her want to burst. "So much."
Kitty couldn't stop the playful smile from covering her face, feeling happily unashamed about the surge of her desires. He had held her and comforted her while she had cried, and they had continued sleeping side by side, even on the nights when what had happened sent them too far apart, and she worried for a while whether they would ever return.
He took a lock of her hair from her face between his fingers, touching the same spot as he had done with his lips moments before. The remembered sensation danced a swirl in her stomach, sent sparks dashing out against the silken fabric that covered her.
"You don't need to do this for my benefit," he said, his tone turning softer and sincere. "You're beautiful."
Slowly he brought his hand a little higher, running his fingertips delicately along the gradually fading scar upon her cheekbone.
Kitty gasped involuntarily, holding back the tears that had suddenly gathered in her eyes. Frank held his hand upon her face for a few moments, and she was a little surprised to realise she didn't feel disgrace or shame.
She felt only love.
She circled his wrist with her fingers, getting an additional thrill from the fact it wasn't covered by his shirtsleeve.
"Touch me," she urged, her voice rasping. "Properly. I'm not going to break."
He smiled at her, their eyes locked together. As she guided his hand down the silk path of her side, his other moved of its own accord, meeting the hem of her camisole and then searching further, finding the skin of her lower thigh.
She let out a whimper from the back of her throat, feeling his eyes upon her as his fingertips ran in circles, and the combination of senses was all too powerful. She couldn't believe that she had forgotten how wonderful her husband's touch upon her was, how much it made her feel and how fast she was to succumb.
She pulled him closer with instinct, sighing as his two hands worked in tandem, tracing almost every hidden curve of her. His lips were kissing and began to nip lightly at her neck and the hollow of her throat, and she angled her head as he skimmed her thighs, bringing the edge of the camisole higher.
If she had wanted him before he had even got home, now she was completely certain.
His hand on the small of her back, she giggled before he could kiss her mouth hungrily.
"Well, Mr Edwards," she purred, one arm draped at his shoulder. "Now I know this has had its desired effect."
He smirked back at her, holding her firmly against him.
"I think that's more to do with you, Mrs Edwards."
Their lips met while their hands got to grips with buttons and straps, undressing each other with familiarity as well as more than a touch of franticness. Kitty smiled into the blistering kiss as Frank encountered more of her bare skin than he expected to so soon, revelling in the feel of his hands upon her as his lips left.
"A bit different to a corset," he muttered, attempting to catch his breath.
"You know me," she chimed, "I do like to give new things a go."
His hands ran up her sides, pausing for a moment or two before he cupped his palms at her breasts, concealed by the elegant brassiere.
"I like it," he said approvingly. "More than that."
"There's a little clasp," she arched her shoulders, encouraging him as one of his hands went round her back. "It shouldn't take too long."
Frank smirked, further aroused by his wife's impatience. His fingers fumbled for a moment, his other hand stroking at Kitty's hip, and sure enough, the clasp gave way with little effort.
Minutes and seconds slowed in a wonderful blur, every caress and kiss given returned with passion that found its equal quickly. She had craved this so much – more than she had realised until she was losing herself in each moment that passed, running her hands over her husband's chest, hearing him groan with each deliberate and lingering touch. She teethed at her bottom lip, thinking of the presumption she had made earlier in the day in making herself ready, smiling with relief when Frank's hands wound around her waist, and they stepped closer to their bed.
She pushed at him lightly and he was quick to catch on, giving her a provocative smile as he leant back easily, guiding his palms up her thighs and towards her hips as she rose above, straddling him.
As much as she was enjoying herself, and as much as she trusted him – implicitly – she had the need to be in control. It wasn't the first time they had took on this position, and Kitty was assured in knowing that Frank favoured it, almost as much as she did.
He went forward, catching her cheek and bringing his mouth to hers, kissing her slowly and tenderly. Kitty placed her hand against him, stroking her fingers at the nape of his neck, her eyelids fluttering at the feeling and her heart soaring within her chest.
They stayed for a moment after their lips had parted, foreheads touching and breaths mingling.
"I love you," he told her. "I only want to see you happy."
"This makes me very happy," she responded, the heat of their bodies only too apparent. "You make me happy."
With decisiveness she laid her palm square on his torso, bringing him back down to the bed. Kitty inhaled as she settled herself, drawing her hips upwards and her thighs further apart. Frank's eyes remained on her, almost burning as he waited for her to fulfil them both. She moved just a touch, and they both let out moans as she sank down onto him.
The first moments were a release all of their own. She set the rhythm for both of them and felt herself spiralling, gasping as she took him deeper and sought for more. She wore nothing aside from the two rings on her left hand, and his mouth pressed against the warm, precious metal, his hand trailing up from her stomach to fondle one of her breasts, and then the other. Her sighs of satisfaction rang around the room coupled with the cries of his name.
"Frank," she breathed. "Don't stop, please."
His touch upon her – every part of her – was healing, and also set her on fire.
She grasped onto the sheets either side of his head, rising up like a goddess, arching her back into a perfect curve as she felt pleasure approaching nearer.
"Kitty...oh, Kitty, love."
He always called her that, from the very first time, and so she knew that he was just as close as she was.
The movements of her hips became increasingly erratic, the greatest bliss just within reach. She fumbled against him, needing to touch him for every second, and one of his hands landed upon her hipbone to guide her along while the other dipped lower, exactly where she needed it to be, so very attentive and considerate...
Moments later they were both undone.
Taking a little time to recover, Kitty relished the feeling of her husband's hands all over her body, caressing and soothing her. She dropped onto her side, wonderfully exhausted, curling next to him. She didn't think she had been as happy as she was in those moments, nor so alive.
Frank smiled as he glided his hand up and down the soft skin of his wife's back, welcoming her as she snuggled against his chest, her usually pristine curls teased out of place.
"That was...unexpected."
Kitty giggled, tracing her hand between him and where the bedcovers lay rather dishevelled over them.
"It was wonderful, is what it was."
"A very good choice of word," he agreed, his lips landing messily against her hairline. "Worth the wait, entirely."
"I'm sorry I made you wait," she uttered, lying against him. "Really, we could have sooner, it's just that..."
He hushed her, rubbing his hand at the top of her arm.
"You're not the one that needs to be sorry. I should have known better. My darling, if I could have done more..."
She rose up off him for a moment, shaking her head as she looked at him with wide eyes, his doleful expression one which she intended to chase away.
"No more of that," she asserted. "Everything's turned out alright. That's all I care about."
She hugged her arms around him, leaning in for a kiss.
"When we have afternoons like this, it's more than alright."
He laughed, and Kitty felt the vibration against her as she resumed her place, smiling as his hands dipped beneath the sheets to circle her waist.
"Well, it can't be a habit. Even if I am Head of Department, I think people would notice."
She smiled surreptitiously for a moment or two; she did love her work and wouldn't have traded it, but she thought perhaps it couldn't hurt to have a few more hours away here and there, especially when they were spent with Frank.
"What were you saying before, about Mr Selfridge mentioning something?"
"I don't know if I want to think of Harry, not here at least," he replied with a chuckle.
She tickled his stomach lightly, aiming to coax it out of him. "If it's about you working..."
His arms went closer around her, relenting. "I asked him years ago, if he might have a position for me. I assumed it was all water under the bridge, but the other day he collared me and said there was a role he was thinking of, especially with some promotions that are coming up." A slow smile pulled his lips upwards as he kept her in suspense a few moments longer. "Head of Press and Print."
"Oh Frank, that's perfect," she exclaimed, stealing the smile from his face. "You and me, both Heads. And with Connie coming along so well too..."
"Nothing's set in stone yet," he pointed out before she got too carried away. "It was just an informal chat."
"But he's not going to seriously consider anyone else, is he?" she bounced back, her hand having found his and linking their fingers together. "I'm so proud of you."
He kissed the top of her head, nuzzling his nose against her temple. Everything really was turning out for the best, when it all had seemed so dark only days ago.
"We're very lucky," she sighed contentedly, "when you think of others. Mr Selfridge, and poor Mr Grove."
It was hard to believe the news about Doris. She had felt a little guilty, thinking of how they had drifted apart since Doris had had her children, but she would never have expected that time would run out for them to get back in touch. They were best friends once.
She supposed that Frank was her best friend now, which made her smile.
"I know that I'm lucky," he said, dipping his head to kiss her shoulder. "I would be hopeless if I didn't have you."
"Hmm," Kitty mumbled, "I agree, you would."
She turned her head, laughing until he captured her lips, and then laughing against his mouth as he tugged at her waist, causing them both to roll in the sheets.
Once again she was on top of him, her arms resting against his chest, smiles on both of their faces as though they had never disappeared.
He followed her gaze as it left him for a minute, smirking as he caught sight of the rather fine garment that had been tossed carelessly to the floor.
"Perhaps I might get accustomed to wearing things like that," she commented, apparently off-hand, as he raised his eyebrows in interest. "They might be expensive, but with my husband being Head of Press and Print at Selfridges, I think that he could afford it."
She tipped her head to the side, the cover falling off her shoulder only adding to her air of seduction.
"I can't deny you anything, my darling," Frank replied, before kissing her with a passion that made her forget about any frills or fancies, or the fact that there were still a few hours of a blissfully free afternoon ahead of them.
A/N: I didn't want to make it obvious, but given S4 revelations I'm pretty certain that they'd use some kind of precaution (and probably the kind that was also in Downton Abbey S5...)