So, I'm finally back with another chapter and quite ashamed for letting you hang about while I was so unproductive. The truth is, each sentence as a struggle. Words just wouldn't come. Now that they have, I hope they'll earn your attention and that they won't disappoint! Just so you know, the next chapter is almost ready (it was initially only one, long chapter but I've decided to split it in two to avoid too much length discrepancy between chapters), I'll post it before the end of the week.
This story is actually coming to a close and next chapter will probably contain an epilogue, so as not to make you guys wait for other chapters that may never come. It's not that I don't have ideas, it's just that I have problems phrasing them. For instance, I've been toying with the idea of John having supper at his club with the other mill owners, and them asking him and teasing him about married life, but I'm not confortable enough with Victorian idioms and general way of life to produce something plausible. Actually, you know what? This could be fic challenge material. Mmm. Quite loving this idea. Anyway.
Here you go. This is short, but please keep in mind that the rest will follow soon. If you feel up to it, it might be a good idea to re-read the previous chapter, since it's been a long time...
He wakes up to a chilly morning and a sleeping wife who, at some point during the night, has deprived him from sheets and blanket altogether.
He is facing her back and props himself on an elbow to peek at her. She has tucked the sheets up so high that all he can see is the tip of her nose and the gentle swell of a cheek upon which lowered eyelashes cast a faint shadow. The long tresses of her hair follow the folds and creases of the sheets in a lush wave. She is the picture of loveliness.
Images of her from last night flow his mind. He remembers his emotion when he discovered her nakedness in the dark. Her trembling willingness. Her trembling surrender. The slow build of her responses to him and the few precious seconds when her body suddenly arched up against his, are forever engraved in his mind. He cannot begin to describe the relief he has felt, he who had been fearing for the past few months that she might be immune to his touch.
He smiles as he remembers her shy, hesitant attempt at undressing him, and the heart-stopping moment when she actually dared to unbutton his trousers. The memory of it comes with a powerful wave of arousal and he cannot help but closing the distance between them. He leans in and nuzzles the soft hair behind her ear, placing a soft kiss there as he simultaneously tries to reclaim part of the sheets, gently disentangling them from his wife's sleeping form and drawing them back to him.
A sudden stiffening of her whole body alerts him to her waking up and his lips curve up against her skin.
"Good morning", he rasps against her neck, his deep voice on her pulse point, making her shiver. His hand snakes under the sheets and slowly slides up her arm, finding the roundness of her shoulder.
She immediately stiffens further, her state of nakedness and the cause of it coming back to her with vivid clarity.
"Should I infer, from your blatant claim on the bed linens, that I am no longer welcome to your bed?" he asks playfully.
She turns to him in surprise and finds herself nose to nose with her husband, only covered from the waist down with the sheets he is still trying to pull back around him.
"I am sorry", she says hurriedly, sliding the soft cotton fabric towards him. She takes advantage of the rustling to move away from him, tucking the sheet high against her. She leans back against her pillow, at a safe distance from him. She avoids his gaze. He notices her not-so-subtle jib and feels a pang of disappointment, but makes no comment. He is still leaning on his shoulder, facing her profile.
"Have you slept well?"
"Very well", she says in a falsely cheerful voice which fails to hide her uneasiness, "And you?"
Although he is not fooled by her behaviour, he refuses to let it tamper his elated mood. He reaches for one of her hands and brings it to his mouth, then turns it palm up and applies his lips on the inside of her wrist.
She is drawn to his gaze and cannot help but return it with a shy smile, losing herself for a moment in the tender intensity of his blue eyes, the handsomeness of his features. She dares not let her eyes wander to the rest of him. The insistent touch of his lips makes her skin tingle and she suppresses a shiver.
She needs time to herself to think on what happened on the previous night. Already she can feel the strange pull that this simple touch has on her body.
She swallows and withdraws her hand.
"Please excuse me, but I would like to freshen up a bit. I will have Dixon draw me a bath. I... Would you please turn around while I..."
She trails off, embarrassed, but he understands. Stifling a sigh, he obligingly turns his back to her.
For some reason, indulging in a bit of a lie-in has lost all its appeal.
She catches her reflexion in the mirror, surprised and relieved to see no noticeable difference in her features. She does not know what she expected, after last night experience. An indelible trace on her face? A permanent flush for all the world to see? Just the brief thought of what happened brings said flush to her face and she turns round, unable to hold her own eyes. What possessed her to behave in such a shameless way? What must he think of her? Part of her knows that this is exactly what he expected of her. She has done what he wanted of her. But what if he got more than he had bargained for and has come to regret what happened? Surely no husband would want his wife to behave in such an unladylike manner... And the sounds that she made! She cringes and buries her face in her hands. He will never look at her the same way again. She can never meet his eyes again.
"Your bath is ready, miss".
Dixon busts into Margaret's dressing room, effectively ending her bout of despair. She composes herself to avoid unwanted questioning and coddling from her overzealous servant, and she quickly divests herself of her nightgown, stepping into the warm water.
When she enters the breakfast room, he is already there, sipping a cup of tea with the newspaper laid next to him. He greets her with a warm smile, but immediately returns his attention to the article he is reading.
She sits down opposite him and helps herself to a bowl of freshly sliced fruit. The room is bathed in sunlight and the house is bustling with activity around them. In this atmosphere, she finds it easier to regain her countenance and to go over the earlier events. She does not go as far as last night, for doing so would cause her to turn crimson. But she allows herself to remember the tender and playful moment that they have shared upon her waking up and she feels a pang of regret at her abrupt withdrawal from him. She decides to make amends.
"Will you go with me to church this morning, John?"
"Of course", he answers behind his newspaper.
"I wonder... the weather seems quite warm today. Would you care for a walk after the service, and maybe a picnic in some nice spot of your choice?"
He slowly lowers the newspaper and their eyes meet, hers seeking a truce. She does not have to wait long.
"I would love to", he answers warmly.
"I am glad."
She reaches across the table and clasps his hand. He returns the pressure with a boyish grin.
They stand side by side, dutifully voicing the responses of the psalm sung by the priest, but Margaret's mind is elsewhere. She is all too aware of her husband's proximity, of his strong presence radiating through her. She loses track of the responses and gets the next one wrong. Flushed, she falls quiet. From the corner of her eye, she can see John briefly glancing down at her with a puzzled expression and she feels mortified. She silently berates herself and, with great effort, turns her attention back to the priest.
"Are you well, Margaret?" he inquires as they leave the church. "You seemed lost in your thoughts earlier on."
She feels better now that they are outside and she allows herself to wave the incident off with a laugh.
"My mind was otherwise engaged, I must confess. But I have rallied quite beautifully in the end, did you not think?"
"If you are referring to the ringing 'Amen' you gave at the end of the service and which nearly broke my eardrum, yes indeed", he agrees, the corners of his mouth twitching.
She raps his arm playfully and he retaliates by trapping her arm under his as they walk away.
"So, where shall we have this picnic?"
"I know a very nice spot not far from here. Quiet. Secluded. I think you will like it."
As they cross the street, Margaret's eye is caught by an embracing couple strolling about, stopping now and then in front of a shop window, exchanging loving gazes.
"Why are you looking so intently at this young couple, Margaret?" her husband asks with amusement.
Caught unawares, she takes a second or two to answer.
"I was thinking that they seemed in love."
"Indeed."
"And that they must have married quite recently."
"So it seems", he agrees mildly.
"And I was wondering if... if they are anything like us."
He glances at her, puzzled at her train of thoughts. When he sees a blush grace her cheeks, he finally catches her meaning.
"Margaret, are you actually wondering if they are happy in the marriage bed?"
He sounds incredulous, and from red, Margaret goes crimson. Slipping her arm away from him, she hastens her pace, not caring where she is going as long as she finds a place to lock herself up and hide her shame. she hears him chuckle as he easily catches up with her, grabbing her arm. She turns her face away from him and he chuckles again.
"Curiosity is a sin", he says silkily.
She wants to snap at him, but the boyish grin that enlightens his features takes her breath away instead.
"Here we are."
Margaret realizes that they are now standing in front of a small, rounded door, and that John is holding a rusty key in his hand.
He introduces it in the keyhole, and, after a few tries, the door swings open.
"After you", he says, stepping aside to let her in.
A/N: Thank you so much for reading and for putting up with my tardiness! As usual, please do not hesitate to point out my mistakes, or to leave a review if you liked/disliked it :-)