"Richard, please," she slid his hand up to the swell of her breast. She was desperate for him. Desperate to feel him. To be close to him. She had thought his warm soft lips would be enough, but once she had tasted them the flame inside her grew even hotter.
"No. I'm sorry," he whispered between kisses. She moaned as his words hit her neck and he sealed his answer with a kiss. He reluctantly moved his hand to safer territory, her lower back.
"Please," she pulled his head up from her neck to show him how badly she needed him in the form of a passionate kiss. She slid her tongue past his lips, tasting him and he sighed his approval. He wanted her so badly, and her begging was making his resistance even more difficult. He gave in and pulled her closer, leaning back against the pillows and taking her with him. He put all his energy into the kiss, exploring her mouth with an eager tongue. Thinking she had won she pulled both of his hands back to her breasts, using her own atop his to squeeze lightly.
He groaned and pulled away, "Isobel...we can't," she dove in for another kiss, but he pulled away after a peck, "I won't", she tried again, swooping to his neck with soft lips that were determined to earn his touch, "I won't ruin your virtue," he explained. She pulled back quickly, looking into his eyes questioningly before scooting back to her own side of the settee.
"Richard, it's too late for that. I'm not..." she stuttered, waving her dainty hands about, "I have been married Richard, let's not forget,"
"I am perfectly aware and okay with that dearest," he grabbed her hand from the air and cradled it in both of his, "but you mi' lady," she giggled and gave him a warm smile, "are the most unblemished natural wonder, and I would never forgive myself it I were to taint that beauty,"
"Oh, Richard," she felt her eyes begin to water, she leaned in to give him a long kiss, a hand on the back of his head to hold him tightly to her. "You are the most noble man and I love you for it," her blurry eyes locked on his.
He stared back at her, letting the sweet words sink in. She had said it...and more importantly she had meant it. "And I love you, and I want you to be sure of that before you give yourself to me. Isobel I want you to be my wife...more than anything," he held her face in his hand and leaned in for another slow passionate kiss.
When he pulled back he saw tears making their way down her cheeks, "Oh, Richard," was all she could muster, pulling herself closer to him to rest her head on his chest. They sat in silence, there tea forgotten and growing cold. His arms were a protective barrier around her, holding her tightly to him. She was content to stay this way forever, lying close to him in the silence of the night. But, being the constant caregiver, worries of Richard with a stiff back and impending long hours at the hospital were nagging her.
"Come on my love, let's go to bed," the thought of mustering up the energy to tackle a flight of stairs had seemed impossible the past few weeks, but for some reason with Richard here now, everything seemed easier. Granted, the wound on her heart would never quite heal, but having the doctor here with her seemed to dull the constant sting to a slight ache.
"Isobel, I'm not sure..." he trailed off, running his hands through his hair nervously.
"Richard, I have every intention of letting you be the noble courtier you so wish to be, so I intend only to sleep. Nothing more," she teased lazily, the exhaustion of countless tear-stained nights hitting her now.
"If your sure," he stuttered, rising to his feet.
"I though you didn't intend for me to wake alone? Was there an expiration date on that offer?" her jokes were all in good fun, as she grabbed his hand and led him to the stairs.
"Darling?" she whispered in the dark.
"Mmhhmm?" He grumbled his lethargic response and she turned around in his arms to face him. She laid a hand on his face, felling his stubble with the tips of her fingers.
"Earlier, when you said you wanted me as your wife..."
"Yes?"
"Well, was that a proposal?" her tone dropped and she was ashamed for asking such a forward question. She suddenly felt very much out of practice as far as courting went.
"Not quite, my dearest. Although we seem to be breaking many rules, there are still a few traditions I intent to follow, and in that respect I would prefer to have a ring worthy of your hand before I ask for that hand,"
"Oh, Richard, I don't require anything ornate. I would walk to court in my robe tonight to be your wife," she leaned in and pressed a warm, wet kiss to his lips. He felt precisely the same way, and the scandalous thought of a hasty, private marriage had crossed his mind multiple times that evening but he still couldn't escape the feeling that perhaps she was just in need of a friend during this hard time, and that things would change when her grieving ebbed.
She leaned into his face until they were sharing a pillow, and rubbed her nose against his in a light Eskimo kiss. "I love you so much," she whispered, pulling back to find herself reflected in his moonlit eyes.
"I love you too," he said with less conviction, the risk of her vulnerability and loneliness still weighing itself in his mind.
"You don't believe me..." she bit her bottom lip, holding back tears. He looked away, trying to decide whether to lie or to stay silent and watch her suffer. "Look at me," she used a hand to pull his face back to hers, "I love you," she said each syllable slow enough to ensure an impact, "and that will not change, because I have loved you far before Matthew passed, and I will love you for years to come. Please, Richard, you must always remember that,"
"Then I shall never forget," he made the promise to not only her, but himself as well. The doubts in his mind easing, but not completely silenced.
Trivial times for Dr. Clarkson and Nurse Crawley, but perhaps they'll work it out in the next chapter, or the next. Reviews are appreciated and adored.
