Iracabeth walked into Tarrant's room, where he had been at work making her many fine red and black hats. She picked one up and put it on and then walked to the mirror, but ran into it, as she couldn't see past the feathers. Tarrant stifled a chuckle and she moved the feathers out of the way to look at him, the two laughed heartily. She took it off and returned it to the stand that he'd had had it on.
"Stayne bound you..." she took the key off the far away wall and unlocked what held him to the desk. He stretched his ankles and looked at her dress, then spoke for the first time.
"Your dress is wishing to be removed." he said with wide eyes. She stared at him blankly for a moment, hoping he would continue. "It's tacky."
"Oh, I thought you meant you'd rather see me in my underwear than in these yards of fabric." she murmered rather dissapointedly. He looked back at his sowing machine.
"Underwear is not tacky." he whispered. He heard the rustle of silk and petticoats and looked back to see her standing there in a corset and pantaloons, and he smirked. She walked over and sat on the dest beside him.
"Missed me?"
"Possibly."
"Missed my body?"
"As much as I've missed you." he leaned near her and kissed her gently. She blushed and looked away.
"I've missed you." she smiled. He grabbed her and pushed her against the wall and pinned her there breathing heavily. His eyes were as deep as the ocean. His mouth parted into a crooked smile.
"Downal wyth bluddy begh hid..." he whispered into her ear and kissed her passionately, which she happily returned.