Margaret shut the door gently behind her and the sleepy buzzing of their families and friends died down to a complete silence. She felt the silkiness of the wood under her fingertips and took a deep breath as she turned to face her new husband.

Despite her crippling nerves she found herself smiling at him. It had always been in her nature to take other people's worries on her shoulders and tonight was no difference. He was leaning against the windowsill with his head bowed and his hands knotted together, for all the world a small child who had lost its favourite toy.

She pushed herself a few steps away from the door, struggling to decide where to look. The bed to her right was impossible to ignore, but for the moment she tried and turned her eyes on his tense back.

"Mr Th – John?" She stuttered, still struggling to call him by his first name. It sounded too familiar on her tongue.

He looked up suddenly, as if she'd touched his shoulder. Seeing her smile made him smile too and he relaxed, his shoulders settling back down to their natural position.

"Margaret?"

"Are you – are you all right?" She couldn't bring herself to step any closer to him so he took it upon himself to close the gap between them, taking her hands lightly in his.

"A little exhausted." He admitted, studying her face. "You look – "

"Tired?" She laughed, heart racing under her white dress. He just smiled.

"I was going to say how very pretty you look."

She felt herself blush and she looked away, down at the floor. The bed caught her eye again.

"Margaret, please don't be frightened." He said suddenly, making her look up. His brow was crinkled and his cheeks looked tight.

"I'm not." She said automatically, lips dry and cold. It was difficult for her now to try and comfort him, when he looked the least afraid.

He chuckled lowly, shaking his head. "When will you learn that I can tell when you're lying to me?" He raised his free hand and touched her cheek lightly. "Relax. We can take it slowly."

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "What do you mean?"

"Until you are ready, sharing my name with you is enough for me." He brushed her chin gently with the tips of his fingers and, looking up at those dark eyes, she believed he was sincere.

She felt herself relax and knew that he had seen it. "Thank you." She said quietly, leaning in towards him. Half expecting him to kiss her, she was pleasantly surprised when he just circled his arm around her and held her to his chest.

He muttered something unintelligible into her hair and then released her, crossing the room and opening cupboards.

"What are you doing?" She asked, slowly sitting down on the edge of the bed. He continued to open and close doors, looking for something.

After a moment he turned to face her, holding what looked like a rolled up blanket in his hands. "I'll sleep on the floor tonight – as long as you want me to. It's enough to become used to spending so much time in the same room as – "

"John, don't be silly." She laughed, finding her courage after all. "I don't want you to sleep on the floor!"

"I – "

"Come, let's go to bed." She said, as she'd heard her mother say to her dear father so many times before when he had got himself into a state. "I love you enough to not want to see you sleeping on the ground."

He laughed and looked like he was going to say something to that but shook his head instead, sitting on the opposite side of the bed. He was looking at her with a peculiar expression which made her breath go cold in her chest.

"And I love you enough to not wish you any discomfort. If at any point you become… unhappy – "

"Are you already regretting our marriage?" She asked him in a laugh, secretly worried that now they were in this situation he was wishing he had married another woman. Someone who was more daring or more forward –

"Dear Margaret, don't be so ridiculous." He smiled and chuckled at her again, getting to his feet with a sigh. He walked around the edge of the bed and knelt in front of her, taking her hands in his. "I loved you since the first day I met you."

"Well," She said after a moment. He looked tired. "That is a good thing, for I – I have loved you for longer than I dare admit."

He smiled at her and touched his lips to her fingers briefly, releasing them and standing up again. "Stay up if the idea suits you," he said, "But I am going to settle down for the night."

She sat there for a moment, watching him, until she realised that he was unbuttoning his shirt. Slightly taken aback, she turned to face the wall and sat rigidly until she heard him slip into the bed.

Her breathing was erratic and her palms were sweaty until his soft, tired voice reached her over the duvet. "You can change – I won't look, I promise." And she smiled at is kindness and slipped off her shoes.

She had never changed into her nightgown so quickly in her life. First, she was terrified of a strange maid blundering into their room. Second, she was afraid of him growing impatient.

Within minutes her wedding dress was draped delicately over the back of a chair and she was in her comfortable, modest nightgown that made her feel more like her usual self.

When she had made herself creep under the covers and found it to not be all that bad after all, he spoke again.

"Are you all right?" He asked softly, still facing away from her. She could feel the heat coming from his body and it made her stomach flip and knot.

She nodded and realised he couldn't see. "Yes."

"Remember; if you want me to leave – "

"No!" She said quickly, surprising herself and making them both laugh. She sighed deeply and stared at the canopy of the bed. "I suppose we should have to get used to it eventually."

He chuckled. "Does that mean I can lie on my back?"

"Please, do whatever makes you comfortable." She laughed and closed her eyes, settling into the pillow. "I should not like to make you uncomfortable."

His silence scared her, so she opened her eyes to see whether she had angered him. He was now facing her – still a perfectly respectable distance away – and smiling softly.

"I still think of you as 'Miss Hale'." He said suddenly, looking at her with an incredibly gentle expression. She felt her cheeks glow through the darkness of the room.

"I suppose that's another thing we shall have to get used to."

He chuckled and moved his arm so it was on top of the duvet and she could see the uninterrupted skin from his fingers to his neck. It was terrifying yet exciting to see so much of a person who she had known for, compared to her other friends, a relatively short time. She could hear her heartbeat thudding through the pillow and wondered if he could, too.

A few minutes of this began to hurt her neck, so she rolled carefully onto her side so she was facing him, too. They studied each other for a while, contemplating each strand of hair and each dark shadow cast by the low light of the few candles they had. Margaret became aware of the sound of his breathing and discovered that it soothed much of what was left of her nerves and made it easier to imagine herself falling asleep in the bed beside him.

It wasn't long after then that he found the courage to raise his hand from the duvet and cross that gap between them to touch her face again. She smiled, surprising herself by relaxing even more under his touch and he moved his fingertips into her hair.

It was comforting to feel the warmth of his hand on her skin and she was drawn to him like a moth to a soft flame, moving ever so slowly across the bed to better feel the calming effects of contact with him. Obviously pleased that she had chosen to be near him on their first night together, he gently wrapped his arm around her and pressed his lips to her forehead.

"You're very warm." She muttered, her sleepy voice coming from somewhere below his chin. He smiled.

"And you're very tired. Go to sleep – we have a long day tomorrow."

"I don't want to." She grumbled, making herself look up at him. He chuckled again and stroked his hand down her back.

"You must. You're exhausted."

She narrowed her eyes took a deep breath. Slowly, she moved her arm under the duvet until she could touch his chest with her hand. His bare, warm chest.

She felt him jump a little at the contact and she was again relieved to see that he was as nervous as she was. So she took another deep breath and moved her hand lightly over his skin so that it was touching his back, holding them both together lightly.

She could hear his heartbeat racing along with her own and, while she thought it would have been very nice to simply fall into sleep there and then, she knew that it was foolish to try. Both of them would have been restless all night, wondering about what would have been –

He kissed her suddenly, breaking out of this imaginary world where they both simply closed their eyes and fell into dreams.

It had been several hours since they had last kissed and several days since they had last kissed while completely alone. There was no one around them now – not even a maid – and the change in taste was unexpectedly pronounced.

He moved his hand which wasn't cradling her to him to cup her cheek, his fingers slipping one by one down her warm neck. It made her shiver and when he moved his lips away from hers to check if she was still all right she jumped and blinked at him, dazed.

He smiled softly at her again and tucked his fingers back into the roots of her hair, holding her delicately. His hand was even warmer, if that were possible, and she found herself leaning even closer to him.

They kissed again, moving closer together by instinct. There was yet another taste to their kiss and, when she thought back on it later, Margaret realised that it was passion.

He moved her gently back to the centre of the bed, so she was on her back, and leaned over her so he could look at her and kiss her more comfortably. Margaret realised how quickly her chest was rising and falling and did her best to control her breathing – and her wandering hands which had made their way to his waist. His body was smooth and warm – attractive to touch and to see, highlighted by the ever fading candlelight.

The kiss started to travel and left Margaret gasping, her chin tilted towards the sky as her husband drew lines down her neck with his lips. Her hands were still on his bare skin and she could feel a pulse – either his or her own – thundering through her palms.

Suddenly he stopped and returned his lips to her cheek. He lifted his head enough to study her face and moved one hand from where it had been supporting him on the bed to stroke her cheek. They were both breathing heavily, their eyes locked onto each other's' but with a strange haze between them.

"Are you all right?" He asked lowly, a small frown forming between his eyebrows again. "Are you – is this all right?"

Breathless, she smiled at him and moved one of her hands from where they had been exploring his chest. She touched the corner of his mouth with a finger and drew a line back to above his ear, where she then ran the ends of his hair between her fingers.

Still waiting for an answer, he leaned into her hand but kept his eyes on hers.

"I'm all right." She whispered eventually, smiling with him. "And this is all fine."

She loved to watch the happiness creep over his face, chasing that troublesome frown far away. When he smiled it reached his eyes and they sparkled in the orange candle glow and made him look more alive than ever before.

He kissed her again, a little stronger and less cautiously than before. She felt his teeth on her lips and it made her shiver so much that he pulled back to check on her again.

She just laughed and traced a gentle line up his back towards his shoulders, exerting a small amount of pressure there so he would lean towards her again. Even when their lips weren't touching she could taste him and it was so wonderful – so new – that she hardly believed she would ever be able to have enough of being with him.

A moment later her stopped kissing again. He was almost completely on top of her and had briefly touched his chest with hers which had made her gasp a sharp breath and wrap her arms tighter around his body. It was this that had stopped him – this that had made him feel the need to make sure that she was still all right.

She was almost irritated, except she realised that he wasn't about to ask "are you all right?" at all. Instead, he was moving his face to a spot between her shoulders on her chest which made her see white spots of brightness underneath her eyelids.

"Margaret?" He said eventually, voice rough and fluttering against this exposed part of her chest. She swallowed and whispered a response. "You have to tell – you must tell me, if – if – " He pressed his forehead to her chest and shook his head slowly, tickling her chin with his hair. "You must make me stop if that is what you want."

"I do not want." She breathed shakily, her hands frozen on his skin.

"If you change your mind – at any time – "

"Why would I change my mind?" She asked, a little nervous now, moving her hands into his hair. Whatever he had to say seemed very difficult, so she tried to soothe him by keeping her hand close to his face like he had done for her earlier.

"If – In case – I have heard that this can hurt." He barely whispered, one arm moving in to be closer to her as if he was trying to protect her from something. "So you must tell me if I hurt you."

Margaret considered this for less than a moment and found his chin with her fingers, making him look at her. That frown was there again, looming over his dark eyes like a heavy storm cloud. She smiled softly, so as to dispel it.

"I will. But I trust you, John."

Her promise made him smile again and he returned his lips to hers for a moment before returning them to that spot under her chin that had made everything so bright. They held each other close and, until much later that night, took time to enjoy this first chance to explore each other's skin.