Margaret Brackenreid was enjoying feeling giddy and smug, wrapped in her husband's arms. In her opinion, the evening ended gloriously, perfectly, with Thomas whirling her on the dance floor until the small quartet packed up their instruments. It went so well she was harbouring the notion of creating a little business for herself arranging weddings. After the last guest was persuaded to leave, Thomas had stayed to help her organize the clean-up of the reception and had even collected a bottle of champagne that had escaped being poured, to tease and plead until she overcame her objections and shared it with him. I have to admit the effects were delicious! Thomas had started kissing her hand, then nibbling her neck in the carriage. By the time they hit the front porch and closed the door behind them, the developing passion between them was unstoppable. "Remember our wedding night?" was all he needed to say. She responded with a deep kiss that he hungrily returned, and before she knew it Thomas grabbed her off her feet and up in his arms: in no time at all they had peeled off their clothes in a rush up the stairs and tumbled into bed.

Now, they were naked, their sheets joyously disarrayed while she reveled in the feel of Thomas' heaving chest, proudly knowing that she still had the ability to take his breath away. She herself was hot and glowing with perspiration, so eventually she pushed at his shoulder and he unfolded, stretching on his back next to her and chuckled, eliciting a giggle of her own. It is so good to laugh with him – it made her feel young and alive.

"Having the boys stay with your sister was genius," he praised, rising on his elbow to gaze at his wife and smile.

"Well, I don't know about genius, exactly, but today went very well after all, despite those two scaring the bejesus out of me. I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't insisted they go through with the ceremony. Honestly! What is wrong with those two?" She saw her husband only shake his head and flop back down, fully exhausted. Margaret readjusted herself to curl closer to him and lazily scratch his chest. She thoroughly enjoyed her husband, their good times and, truth be told, their frictions. She wondered sometimes about how other marriages played out behind closed doors, and her thoughts inevitably turned to the new Mr. and Mrs. Murdoch. Considering how completely satisfied Margaret felt at the present moment, she wondered if the new Missus Murdoch could say the same? Then she considered what she privately believed about Mister Murdoch, and was fairly certain it was true. A new giggle began bubbling up from somewhere in her belly and she could not hold it back.

"What are you giggling at woman?"

Margaret normally would not have answered. It was her husband who was generally more plain-spoken and bold after serving years in the army and years with the constabulary. The champagne, however, loosened her tongue. "I was just thinking about Det. Murdoch and Dr. Ogden. Do you suppose they are doing what we are doing – and enjoying themselves as much?"

Without hesitation Thomas replied, "I would think so, but I'm not sure about the enjoyment part."

Margaret was surprised by her husband's attitude. "It's their wedding night, Thomas, for goodness sake. You do remember ours." She danced her fingers along his thigh with a wicked grin on her face. "I would think, after all they have been through to get to enjoy each other, nothing could stop them!"

"You've forgotten who we're talking about Margaret. Murdoch does his best to avoid pleasure."

That observation got Margaret comparing her husband to his Det.. The fact that Thomas found tobacco and spirits to be his male pleasure as well as privilege and the Det. was an abstainer, would of course be a mark against William Murdoch in her husband's book. "Oh, Thomas. Not every man indulges the way you do." She playfully smacked his chest with her open palm. "You make it sound as though he never gets excited or enjoys anything. That just cannot be true! Why, he enjoys my cooking! He's outright enthusiastic about it!"

"Of course he likes your cooking, he's always complained about the food at his boarding house! He's a papist Margaret, it seems to me that everything enjoyable is considered a sin to them."

Margaret considered that. Det. Murdoch's compliments towards her cooking was not as compelling an argument as she wished, but in her defense, she'd heard him groan in at least gustatory pleasure more than once, letting her know that there were cracks possible in his deep reticence. She knew she tended to view Det. Murdoch as a man of high morals and continence, and she was not as anti-Catholic as her husband, having several lady friends of that persuasion whom she'd met in the Temperance League. Over the years of acquaintance with his detective, Thomas had somewhat reduced his foul automatic language and his deep seeded prejudice about the so called "papists," both changes of which she approved. And while she did not understand exactly what it meant to adhere to the Catholic faith, she just did not equate any of that with lack of passion.

Margaret found Thomas to be an occasionally difficult husband, but he was everything she had always wanted in a man: A gentleman, all ginger-haired, blue-eyed and handsome. He was strong, opinionated, a protector and provider, wonderful father and role model for his sons, indulgent or stern as necessary. He was a solid, good man and wore the burdens of his position without becoming bowed – even if his head could occasionally be turned with a bit of flattery. She studied his face – he still seemed to her to be the strapping young constable who wooed and won her, no matter the passage of time.

She was also not blind. William Murdoch was very good looking, intelligent and kind. It was impossible for her to imagine there was not a passionate lover somewhere inside that buttoned up man.

She took a second good look at the twinkle in her husband's eye and the dimple forming on his cheek Ah ha, she realized. Thomas is trying to engage me in a debate! She felt oddly exhilarated at the challenge

She began. "What has being Catholic got to do with anything? You know that is unfair. If you believe he 'saved' himself for marriage – which by the way I am not so sure about – would that not make consummating their marriage that much more, er … potent, having be denied for so long?"

Thomas thought for a second, "If it were anyone else I'd say yes, but I've worked with Murdoch long enough to say, quite categorically, that that man hasn't a passionate bone in his body. Oh I've no doubt he loves Dr. Ogden, I've seen how he moped when she went away and how upset he was when she married that Garland chap; but love isn't passion and you need passion to have satisfying relations. I'm sure they're going through the motions but I really doubt he'll be up to Dr. Ogden's standards."

Margaret was shocked. "Not passionate? Is this the same man that helped us find our son? And I have over-heard a few of his interrogations! Just because he doesn't engage in fisticuffs, does not mean he has no passion. He certainly has a passion for justice, for the truth. All passion comes from a good heart, from the same place, from that intensity."

"That's not passion, its dedication to the job. I will say, he cares about victims and justice, but again it's not passion."

"OK, mister. You tell me what you think passion really is," Margaret challenged.

"It doesn't matter what I think passion is. The fact is Murdoch doesn't have any and I don't think he'll be particularly satisfying in the bedroom. Of course if he takes my advice into account he may stand a chance of at least not showing himself up!" Thomas said smugly.

Margaret narrowed her eyes keenly. "Thomas Brackenreid! I think you sorely underestimate him, just because he's not your particular brand of man." She considered how much she appreciated her husband's sexual energy – like all his vices, his indulgences in them waxed and waned – but when he did indulge it was with gusto, as he demonstrated just this evening. She always knew that men likely talked about sexual matters, privately amongst themselves – because women certainly did, even if not explicitly, and especially not giving away what they did to the men in their lives. Mustn't damage their fragile egos or lose our veneer of womanly virtue! In truth, Thomas satisfied her completely, if without much creativity. A smile came up unbidden: Well, that is if you don't count the occasional spontaneous delightful moments in his office … or the carriage … or by the lake...! "Oh, Thomas! Please tell me you did not offer unsolicited advice for his honeymoon…?"

"Well he wasn't going to ask for it and I thought he needed some." Thomas said defensively.

She couldn't decide whether to be embarrassed for the detective or her husband, but then her curiosity won out. That conversation must have been very interesting. She pitched her voice just so and ran her hand along his cheek. "So … exactly what advice did you offer? Did you pass on wisdom from your very own wedding night, hmmm?"

"I told him the trick is to fake it. To convince yourself that every time you imagined doing it, you actually did it. I told him to show her who's the man."

Oh yes! He would frame it that way. In truth, Margaret did so appreciate her husband's strong masculinity. She pushed higher up on her elbow to see him more clearly. In her mind's eye she could picture that conversation between these two men – her brash, blunt husband and his oh-so-proper detective. It took all she had not to giggle. Must be the effects of the champagne, she said to herself."Thomas! Did you just finally admit to me that men fantasize about having relations – that you fantasized about our wedding night?" Margaret certainly had looked forward to fully consummating their marriage. She'd made sure she held him at arm's length while they courted, but that was only to keep up propriety and Thomas interested (and because her father would have killed Thomas): not a lack of desire on her part. "Why then, your detective is one of the most well-read and imaginative individuals I have ever met ... think of all those marvelous inventions of his ... you have said as much to me yourself. Therefore I imagine he and his new wife are having a most splendid time of it!"

"Of course men fantasize about it ... most men anyway, I'd imagine." Thomas admitted. "However Murdoch isn't most men. He does do his share of reading I'll agree, but mainly scientific and medical books, so if he's read about it I'm sure it would only be in a medical sense. I don't see how that would help him." He took a deep breath then shook his head, "No … I just don't see it."

Margaret frowned. It was impossible for her to imagine the end result of the epic courtship between Julia Ogden and William Murdoch was some sort of tepid coupling – and this opinion coming from her husband who was above all enamoured by Shakespeare and that over-blown, dramatic nonsense that was his beloved opera. I would have thought that any man who had the imagination to encompass those complicated stories would have a corner of his heart tickled by the Murdoch's and would appreciate the power of a story such as theirs to fuel passion – of the physical as well as emotional sort. She said as much, then added. "Is it that you are also worried about his, shall we say, technique?"

Thomas hadn't given much thought to why he felt the way he did but Margaret may have hit the nail on the head. Maybe it wasn't that Murdoch had no passion, perhaps he was just so used to seeing him with his stiff upper lip and – sometimes – sanctimonious propriety that he couldn't imagine this man making love to anyone; even the beautiful – yes, he had to admit to himself – Dr. Ogden. He took a moment to think on this further. He was pretty sure Murdoch would not indulge in relations before marriage, if only because of his faith. But, as long as they didn't "get past the post," was foreplay allowed? Somehow he doubted it! No, no matter how he thought about it he just couldn't see Murdoch, the man that could do anything … else … to put it plainly, being good in bed. "The way I see it Margaret, technique comes with experience, and experience comes with practice," he paused a second before finishing "I just don't see when or where Murdoch would have got either."

The humour that had been just below the surface started insistently asking for release from somewhere just below Margaret's throat, threatening to shake her chest in an outright laugh. She had a sudden image of the handsome William Murdoch, still dressed in his wedding costume, consulting some set of directions in his strong, neat hands while his new bride waited impatiently to be disrobed and ravished. I suppose that is also what Thomas imagines as well—no wonder he can't see it my way! In my imagination the Detective's restraint in public just means he has a lot to restrain. A giggle escaped: And if it were not improper, a sort of unsanctioned betrayal of my marriage vows, and mildly awkward to do, I might dwell for a moment on what it would be like to be the woman who unleashed all of that….

She stretched herself then shimmied one leg over his torso. "Yes … practice." Margaret swept her dark hair aside to focus on her husband's chest, dragging the backs of her fingers across his skin and tasting his nipple. He halted his breath then moaned, just as she knew he would. "Thomas. I was a virgin when we wed. I'd never even … seen … a naked man before and as much as I desired you I had no idea what connection between a man and a woman actually meant. You were excited and it was over rather quickly that first time, but by the second time that night you helped me understand what to expect and even helped me learn what would please you. Better yet, you asked me what would please me!"

The advice on marriage she got from her own mother was non-existent, and from her married sister it was to 'Close your eyes and think of Canada' – whatever clap trap that was supposed to mean. Margaret thought she'd won the lottery with her handsome husband and to have a husband who wanted his wife to enjoy marital relations as much as he did. "I never asked and I don't care where you got your information from, but did you not teach me how it was done? How to please you?" Her hand crept lower to his groin, receiving a slight twitch in reaction. "Even if the Detective had never engaged in relations before, Dr. Ogden certainly has, and who says she could not guide him along. She is a doctor after all!"

"Yes, she is a doctor, and I'm sure she knows all about the subject," Thomas agreed. "But even though she's had marital relations before it doesn't mean she's experienced good relations! You met Dr. Garland, did he seem like the kind of chap that would take his wife's pleasure into consideration?"

"Not to speak ill of the dead … but I agree about poor Mr. Garland. Talk about no passion! That marriage never seemed to carry much spark, although I thought he was a decent enough sort … until the end. As for Dr. Ogden … all the more reason to treasure an upgrade in her experiences with her new husband. I think you just made my argument for me, my dear." She gave him a deep kiss in gratitude. "The new Missus Murdoch will be quite motivated to educate her husband, now that she knows what happens with a lack-luster lover. And even you must admit William Murdoch would do absolutely anything for Julia Ogden, so I believe the possibilities are endless…."

"I'll agree with you that Murdoch is an upgrade where most things are concerned, maybe even in the bedroom, but that still doesn't mean he's got experience. I'm sure with the right teacher he'd be a very quick learner and I'm sure Dr. Ogden will teach him as much as she knows. The question is, how much does she know? She may have a reputation but just being divorced doesn't make her a harlot. I have to admit though … I can't see her wanting to wait for marriage again after – presumably – having even not so great relations with her husband; unless he was one of those men that only took his own needs into consideration. I must say, I wonder just how much of a marriage she did have with Dr. Garland, it seemed to falter very quickly. There again it wasn't Murdoch she was married to; I never did understand why she married Dr. Garland. However, at least she finally came to her senses."

"Yes she did!" Thomas responded with a passionate kiss of his own, thrilling Margaret to her core. When she caught her breath, she smiled broadly. "We haven't had an evening alone to indulge ourselves like this in eons. And you! " she poked a slender finger at his chest. "You are such a romantic Thomas, and I love that about you. I know very well you played match-maker for those two." She was starting to get the idea that the real reason she was not able to convince her husband of his Detective's … er … capabilities, was that Thomas was reflexively averse to imagining another man having relations. He was a traditional man after all, and while not devoid of creativity, it took him a while to adapt to more modern ways. "Do you seriously believe their marriage will not be as fulfilling as ours is?"

Thomas thought about that for quite a while until Margaret poked him again. "With time I think they will have a fulfilling marriage. I've come to the conclusion it's not necessarily how much you know or even your prowess but more a matter of satisfying each other and as long as they can do that they'll be fine."

With that he turned back to Margaret and gave her the benefit of his prowess.

xxxxXXXxxxx

This is what happens when RuthieGreen and I'dBeDelighted have a spirited exchange about what they believe about William's abilities as a lover. We adopted the characters of Thomas and Margaret Brackenreid to have that discussion in general, and what happened behind closed doors on W&J's wedding night in particular. We wrote back and forth to each other as if Thomas and Margaret were having an actual conversation, letting this story come about organically. We had a great time writing this – hope you had fun reading it.

Reviews always welcome!