At first, Marian could find nothing to say when her husband came to the end of his recollections. Even after everything that had happened between them during their past two-and-a-half years together, it was still rather staggering to witness the full depth of Harold's internal struggle not to cross the bounds of propriety during their courtship. At the time of their reconciliation, she suspected she might have taken their kiss a little too far, but as Harold had indeed never let on how close she'd come to wearing away his resolve that afternoon, she did not give her own behavior as much careful examination as she probably ought to have.

Normally, this would have been cause for severe self-reproach, but Marian could not muster up the spirit for such castigation. It was neither the first nor the last time they'd wrestled with temptation, and in the end, they'd made it to the altar before consummating their union. She was far too practical to bemoan what was now water under the bridge, and now that she did possess knowledge gleaned from experience, she could only reflect just how taxing it must have been for Harold to wait for her.

Although they'd talked for more than an hour, the moon still shone brightly, illuminating the room with its bewitching light. As Marian looked at her husband, who was gazing steadily at her in return, she sorely regretted rebuffing his overtures tonight. Despite his penchant for impropriety, this was a man who'd willingly gone through the arduous process of confronting his own demons and rearranging his entire life so he could be with her. Would it really be such a dreadful sin if she were to show him the same courtesy and compromise her own standards of decorum every now and then?

During the course of their conversation, Harold had rolled back over to his side of the bed, though he continued to hold the librarian in his arms. "Marian, I want you," he said baldly. "And I want this – but not if you'll regret it tomorrow morning."

Marian caught him in a passionate kiss and, without further delay, started undoing the buttons of his nightshirt. Once she had worked the front of Harold's shirt open, she ran her palms lightly over his bare chest, smiling when he shivered and moaned and tightened his arms around her. This was something the librarian had often done during the earliest days of their marriage. She quite enjoyed this little maneuver; in addition to the fact that it drove Harold wild, it allowed her to communicate her desire for his amorous attentions without feeling too forward. These days, she was far more direct, whispering her assent into her husband's ear when he made his advances. But tonight, in her old girlhood room, such maidenly coyness seemed fitting.

Not that Marian was quite as timid as a new bride; deepening their kiss even more, she unfastened her husband's pajama bottoms with unabashed haste and tugged them down. But as eagerly as Harold helped her by wriggling, eel-like, until he was free of this encumbrance, he didn't attempt to take the lead in their lovemaking – not even when she began to stroke and tease him in the exact same manner he'd tormented her earlier.

But he didn't allow her to tantalize him for long; putting his hand over hers, he broke their kiss and looked her in the eye.

"Say it, Marian," he growled, his voice an eloquent mixture of yearning and need.

"I want you – I want this – I've wanted this for ages," she confessed, letting her reticence fall away entirely.

Now it was the librarian who surrendered completely and utterly to their embrace; Harold rolled her beneath him, only pausing to tug her nightgown out of the way before his lips crashed down on hers and he entered her at last. Their lovemaking was tender, passionate and remarkably quiet as they muffled their gasps in the crooks of each other's necks. Although husband and wife had long ago gotten used to making love in a house containing sleeping children, this was the first time they'd tried their utmost to remain absolutely silent. For all the looking after the girls required when they were awake, Penny and Elly were heavy sleepers, so Harold and Marian didn't often have to stifle the ardor of their moans once their daughters settled down for the night.

At first, Marian was surprised at how easy it was to remain so quiet, despite the pleasure Harold was giving her. It was almost too easy – but then she smiled as she realized the probable reason for this phenomenon. Of course her husband would know how to make love to a woman in such a way that would delight her but not elicit cries that were too unrestrained in less-than-private circumstances.

But what Marian hadn't expected was just how bold she had become in her own lovemaking, even when she was following her husband's lead. Her hands avidly roamed the planes of Harold's body almost of their own volition, grabbing and grasping and pulling him to her even as her hips rose to meet his intent thrusts. As a result of this encouragement, the music professor's pace lost its restraint, as did his breathing. Soon he was groaning nearly as loudly as he did at home – she had to stop inflaming him so, lest they wake someone in the house.

However, Marian's hands would have none of it; they found their way to Harold's backside and there they remained, driving him deeper into her until the steadily building wave of her desire crested and burst, and she pressed her head against her husband's chest to muffle her ecstasy. Shortly after Marian achieved her release, Harold buried his face into the pillow and let out a long, strangled howl as he shuddered and gave one final thrust before falling still.

Waves of pleasure still reverberating throughout her body, Marian continued to pant furiously – too furiously. Harold, whose breathing was also ragged, raised his head to look at her. Their eyes met and Marian gazed at him with pleading desire; she did not want their embrace to be over just yet. With an understanding smile, Harold closed the distance between them and gave her soft, sweet kisses until her pulse stopped racing and her body calmed once more.

At least, that was what should have happened. Instead, their kisses gradually grew longer and deeper, until Marian felt her husband stir within her again.

The librarian let out a gasping laugh. "We are never going to get any sleep, at this rate!"

"Doesn't matter – we can sleep tomorrow," Harold promised, his voice just as breathless as hers.

The matter settled, the music professor deftly maneuvered her into a new position, rolling them over until Marian was perched astride him. Not only did the librarian welcome this change, she took a great deal of delight in having Harold watch her with entranced eyes as they resumed their frenzied lovemaking. Under the moonlight's spellbinding influence, even she could admit without shame that she must have been an awfully fetching sight to behold, with her breasts tumbling out of her unfastened nightgown and her tousled blonde locks spilling down her shoulders and back.

Perhaps her display was too much, even for Harold's sensibilities; shortly after they began, he grasped her by the hips and, once he'd arrested their writhing, scooted the two of them up the bed until he was sitting in an upright position against the headboard. At first, Marian dazedly wondered what her music professor was up to – and then he dipped his head right into her décolletage. With a smile, she raked her hands through her husband's hair and let him take the reins of their lovemaking once more. He'd enjoyed exploring that particular area on their honeymoon and in the earliest days of their marriage, but ever since she'd stopped nursing the twins, he'd taken an even greater interest in her breasts. Perhaps it was a matter of absence making his heart grow fonder – in the time between her pregnancy and the girls' weaning, the area had often been too delicate for her to bear such amorous attentions.

But Marian couldn't think too deeply on the matter for long. Harold's mouth was warm, wet and eager against her bare skin, and the clever movements of his tongue made her arch against him until they were once again rocking back and forth in each other's arms. Soon Marian teetered on the brink of ecstasy once more, and she whimpered and bit her lip, trying as best she could to stifle her increasing passion. Obligingly, Harold covered her mouth with his, and she moaned into his kiss. As she reveled in her euphoria, he slowed their pace to a more languid tempo until her breathing steadied – only to escalate the fervor of his thrusts when his own release came upon him, and he buried his head in her breasts to let out a long, satisfied groan.

Now that they both had finished, exhaustion descended upon Marian. As she started to collapse against her husband, gasping and sated, Harold caught her in his arms and guided her back down with him to the warmth of the blankets. Showering her lips with more soft, sweet kisses, he lovingly refastened the front of her nightgown. Somehow, she mustered up the energy to button up his shirt in return. But when Harold groggily went in search of his pajama bottoms – which were now wedged deep beneath the covers – she could only lie there and giggle as he attempted to retrieve his pants without rumpling the bedclothes hopelessly beyond repair.

Fortunately, Harold managed to succeed in his quest without causing too much disorder. Once he and the sheets were both returned to their former presentable state, he reclaimed his place next to the librarian and pulled her into his arms. "Maybe I should take a leaf out of your book and not wear pants to bed," he said with a lascivious chuckle.

Marian smiled slyly at her husband – she had stopped wearing drawers beneath her nightgown shortly after they'd married. "It does save a lot of time and energy."

Beneath the blankets, Harold's left hand found hers, and he raised it to his lips to kiss her wedding ring. "My dear little librarian," he said fondly, even as he stifled a yawn, "this has been one of the best nights of my life."

"Mine, too," Marian happily agreed, nestling even deeper into the music professor's embrace as her eyelids fluttered shut.

As if in recompense for the flurry of heated movement they had just engaged in for the better part of the previous hour, husband and wife didn't even get their final goodnight kiss in before a heavy sleep claimed them both.

XXX

Around ten thirty the next morning, the door to the guest quarters creaked open, and Mrs. Paroo poked her head in the room. Winthrop had been quite disappointed that his sister and brother-in-law weren't present when he bounded downstairs to take his place at the breakfast table. But she had forbidden her son to disturb them, promising him they were sure to be up and about when he got home from school that afternoon. Once she'd finally managed to get a dawdling Winthrop out the door, the matron had turned her attention to Penny and Elly's needs – the girls were now fed, dressed and playing happily together in their crib in the parlor.

Mrs. Paroo would have taken the liberty of opening the drapes in the guest quarters, as it was getting rather late in the morning to be lying abed, but to her surprise the curtains were not closed. Yet despite the sunlight pouring into the room, both her daughter and son-in-law slumbered soundly. And even though the bed was quite large, they were wrapped tightly together as two people could be beneath a cozy cocoon of blankets; the besotted librarian and music professor were just as closely entwined as they'd been that day last fall when she'd caught them asleep on Marian's old twin bed.

Mrs. Paroo smiled; the sight did not surprise her in the least. After years of watching Marian pine for a white knight even as she went about in a stubborn, lonely fog, it warmed her heart to see her daughter nestled so contentedly in the arms of the man who loved her just as fiercely and unreservedly as she loved him in return. With Marian so well taken care of, Mrs. Paroo felt she could now go with greater ease when the Lord decided to call her home… although, of course, she wouldn't mind sticking around a little while longer, especially if Providence decided to bless her daughter and son-in-law with additional children.

With that thought in mind, the matron exited the tower and closed the door quietly but firmly behind her, leaving husband and wife to their repose and privacy.