April 1914
With two precocious twin daughters who were now approaching six months of age, it wasn't often there was a quiet moment in the Hill household. But on this beautiful spring Saturday morning, Marian Paroo Hill relished a rare and lovely moment of silence as she beheld her little Penelope Anne and Elinor Jane slumbering sweetly in their bassinet in the parlor.
"Oh, my… what a gorgeous little pair of darlings," Harold whispered to his wife as he came up behind her, sounding exactly like the immediately infatuated, over-the-moon father he'd been that crisp October evening the girls were born.
"Indeed," Marian said quietly but wryly. "One would never guess they were wide awake and clinging tearfully to us most of the previous night, screaming their heads off whenever we attempted to lay them in their crib!"
Harold chuckled and wrapped his arms around the librarian's waist. "The poor dears are all tuckered out… that soothing syrup your mother brought over this morning certainly was a godsend!"
"Yes, it was," Marian concurred with a sigh. Though her mother had warned her last week that Penny and Elly were due to start teething any day now, the librarian had dismissed this supposition, as her books on childrearing postulated it was still too early for the twins to be approaching that particular milestone. However, when she called Dr. Pyne this morning and he agreed with her mother's assessment, Marian had to admit defeat and accept that she and Harold were going to be in store for many more late-night tears and tantrums in the foreseeable future. "And just as the girls were beginning to sleep all the way through the night!" she fretted aloud. "Perhaps we ought to do whatever it is you have planned for us another time… "
"Nonsense! An afternoon out of the house will do you a world of good, Mrs. Hill," the music professor said firmly, planting a kiss on her cheek and steering her into the front hall. "What time is Miss Peabody due to arrive?"
Marian assessed her reflection in the full-length mirror, trying to get in the spirit of things. Her ensemble was neatly pressed and her chignon was as elegant as ever, but her countenance was haggard; she was pale from lack of sleep and there were noticeable dark spots beneath her eyes. As usual, Harold was absolutely right – she could use a little time to herself. "Jane should be arriving any minute now," the librarian informed her husband as she raised her fingers to her cheeks in order to pinch a little color back into them. "I told her eleven forty-five, but she's always at least ten minutes early."
"Of course she is – otherwise you would have told her to come at eleven thirty," Harold laughed as he adjusted his bowtie. "But other than her enduring quirk of excessive punctuality, she's settled rather nicely into River City, hasn't she?"
Marian nodded, reflecting that Jane Edna Peabody had settled nicely into her new life, indeed. Over the past several months, the young woman had lost a good deal of her nervous reserve and blossomed socially; while Marian remained her closest friend and confidante, the assistant librarian had also found other kindred spirits among River City's young ladies. With her kind and friendly nature, Jane was well-liked among the older women as well. And when she stopped trying to force her voluminous hair in tightly wound braids or mash every little capricious curl so flat against her head, she started to receive promising attention from the opposite sex, as well. After Marian had recovered from childbirth and returned to the library, Jane sought advice on hairstyles and, with her mentor's help, fashioned a partial chignon that prevented the majority of her tresses from getting in her way, while still accounting for the inevitability that several unruly strands would end up tumbling loosely around her face and shoulders. The effect was softer and much more flattering; allowed a little extra freedom to fall where they would, the assistant librarian's curls no longer looked like they were desperately trying to escape from an inexorable hairpin prison.
Indeed, Jane's new updo garnered many compliments from both her feminine and masculine peers. While shelving books in the library one day, Marian overheard one moonstruck young man observing that with her "coronet of dark chestnut locks," Jane was a "stunning counterpart" to the beautiful blonde maid in Botticelli's romantic Portrait of a Young Woman. Jane, of course, went about her business with her usual perky and oblivious smile as this lavish praise was heaped upon her head… or perhaps she was only pretending not to notice. For Marian had observed that her assistant was extremely careful to retain both emotional and physical distance from men of any age, hesitating even to shake hands or accept a fellow's hand in assistance. It was a real shame Jane rebuffed the overtures of even suitable men; having experienced just how wonderful romantic love could be, Marian wished the same happiness for her dear friend. But another part of her was also selfishly grateful Jane refused to go courting, as the librarian would likely have to find a new assistant if the young woman ever married.
"Oh, my dear little librarian… you look miles away already," Harold teased in a soft voice, breaking into her reverie. "And we haven't even taken one step toward the faraway field… "
"Oh!" Marian started, and beamed at her husband as he wound his arms around her waist and pulled her against him. "Is that where you're planning to take me today?" But then she frowned as she mused over the practicality of such a jaunt. "It's a bit, well… far away, isn't it? What if something happens and Jane needs to reach us? The girls are starting to teethe, so perhaps we should remain a little closer to civilization – "
"I knew I shouldn't have let the cat of the bag!" Harold interrupted, rolling his eyes heavenward and burying his head in the crook of the librarian's shoulder. "Darling, even the most devoted of mothers is entitled to an afternoon off every now and then, and Jane is more than capable of handling whatever difficulties might arise." His mouth found her neck for a persuasive nibble. "I haven't forgotten what I promised you on your previous birthday, or what I promised you that night last summer when I twisted my ankle at the footbridge. So I'm taking you to the faraway field this afternoon, Madam Librarian, come hell or high water!"
As Harold continued his nibbling, the librarian let out a delighted sigh and subsided in her protests. But when her husband lifted his lips from her neck to look at her in the mirror again, she slyly countered, "Well, it's a bit early for us to be going to the faraway field, isn't it? My birthday is still nearly two months away!"
Harold grinned – though his rictus was a bit more strained than usual. "I purposely picked today to maintain the element of surprise… and also because there aren't likely to be as many chiggers in the vicinity."
Marian giggled and winced at the memory; neither of them realized just how much they'd gotten bitten until they'd gotten home and were eagerly undressing each other in a continuation of their heated but unconsummated tryst at the faraway field. Once the librarian and music professor saw the plethora of red welts covering each other's bodies, the romantic mood was dispelled as they suddenly realized just how much they itched. But the warm bath the two of them took together soon revived their ardor, providing both a soothing and delightful distraction to their discomfort. As husband and wife lay entwined in the soapy water, chigger bites soon became the last thing they thought about…
"Promise me you won't let us lie on the ground for so long," the librarian admonished, raising an eyebrow at her husband as his eyes began to twinkle both impishly and ardently. She knew that look; the music professor could never help giving himself away just before he was about to bring their conversation to a heated end. "And we must try to prevent dozing off at all!"
Indeed, as Marian spoke, Harold was already turning her to face him. "I'll do my best to keep us chigger-free," he promised in his low, velvety voice. "And you have my solemn pledge that I'll certainly do everything in my power to prevent you from falling asleep this afternoon… "
Without further ado, he lowered his head to her welcoming décolletage. Fortunately, the librarian was conveniently dressed for such canoodling; she was wearing a white cotton batiste dress with sky-blue trim, open weave lace accents on her collar, bodice and sleeves – and a tantalizingly low square neckline. While Harold might have found the latter characteristic the most alluring facet of the gown, Marian's favorite feature was the sky-blue butterflies embroidered on the front of her bodice and tiers of her skirt. This was the first new dress Marian had bought after the birth of their daughters, and she'd been saving it for just such an occasion. And perhaps the librarian had underestimated the refinement of her husband's sartorial appreciation…
"Mmm," Harold murmured as she moaned her approval of his ministrations, "those blue butterflies make you look even more dainty and delicious than usual, Madam Librarian – like springtime personified. I'll have to avoid giving you grass stains and wrinkles as well; it would be a shame to ruin such a pretty dress… "
Too far gone to think of a flirtatious retort, Marian closed her eyes, wrapped her arms around the man she loved, and reveled in the moment. One of the things she especially took pleasure in since recovering from childbirth was being able to hold her husband so close again. As her hips pressed against Harold's, he let out a low groan and returned the favor, which caused her moans to grow a little louder – and then they were interrupted by a chirpy rat-a-tat-tat at the door.
At the disturbance, Harold's head jolted up from Marian's breasts. Hastily, he smoothed out the librarian's disheveled neckline and said in a still-panting voice, "That'll be Miss Peabody – I'll be in the music room looking over the provisions in the tuba case."
Dazed by passion, Marian was slower to recover her senses. "Whatever for?" she asked dreamily.
Harold grinned crookedly at her. "Madam Librarian, while you can easily present a decent picture with a quick readjustment of your gown, a fellow needs a little more time to recover from a hot and heavy embrace!"
Living with such a mischievous, lascivious man was terribly contagious; with a sly smile, Marian pressed her hips inquisitively against her husband's. Indeed, a certain portion of his anatomy had decided to start the festivities early.
"You little minx," Harold growled approvingly, lowering his mouth to her neck. Although Marian knew the music professor wasn't going to be gentle in his reprisal for her shameless provocation, the love-bite was harder than she expected, and she let out a sharp cry of pleasure and surprise – but mostly pleasure. "Don't worry," he said huskily before she could protest, "I didn't leave a mark."
Another pert rat-a-tat-tat, this time more urgent, resounded in the front hall. Giggling even as she blushed a furious shade of crimson, the librarian shooed her self-satisfied husband off to the music room and turned back to the mirror to assess her appearance. After smoothing her hair and gown and taking a few deep breaths to calm herself down – her neck and décolletage were unmarred but her breathing was still a bit too rapid for her liking – she went over to open the door.
"Good morning, Miss Marian!" Jane said cheerfully, clasping the librarian's hands in greeting.
Relieved that her appearance and demeanor must have been nonchalant enough to avoid concerned comments as to the state of her health, Marian leaned in to plant a warm kiss on her friend's cheek. "Good morning, Jane – you're looking well."
Indeed, Jane radiated energy and optimism, as well as a surprising elegance. Perhaps it was her hair; on the rare days when she wasn't on duty at Madison Public Library, the young woman merely tied her tresses back with a thick crimson ribbon. It wasn't a hairstyle Jane wore often, so when she did, Marian was always struck anew by how charming it was.
As for her assistant's indefatigable spirit, it came in awfully handy whenever she watched the girls, and would certainly serve her well this afternoon! Jane had arrived not a moment too soon – Penny and Elly had just woken up from their nap, and were fussing and fidgeting audibly in their bassinet. Curtailing the exchange of any further pleasantries, the two women ushered themselves into the parlor to attend to the girls.
Thankfully, the twins' plaintive cries transformed into excited babbling when they saw not only their mother looming over them, but also their beloved Aunt Jane – they had taken to the young woman right from the start. And Jane couldn't have loved Penny and Elly more than if they truly were her flesh-and-blood nieces; she lavished as much fond affection on the girls as she did their mother.
No sooner than Jane had lifted Elly into her arms and commenced cooing at her, Penny began whimpering and stretching out her arms to be picked up, as well. Marian happily obliged, planting a kiss on her eldest daughter's blonde curls and inhaling her sweet baby smell as she nestled into the crook of the librarian's shoulder. Marian's acquaintances, friends and even her family wondered how she managed to tell the twins apart upon immediate glance, but the librarian had never had any difficulty on that score. Though her babies had been born at the same time, they were not two halves of one whole, in appearance or temperament. Even at their young age, they already showed distinct differences in their personalities; whereas Penny was more energetic and fidgety, Elly was calmer and more docile. There were also subtle variances in their looks; Penny was slightly heavier than Elly and her cheeks were therefore rounder, and they had freckles in different places. Barring all that, Marian still could have recognized which of the twins was which by aroma alone; she staunchly maintained that each of her babies had her own unique scent.
Although Harold also had no trouble telling Penny and Elly apart with only a swift glance at them, even he could not detect such a minute variance in essence; all he could smell was the soap and talcum powder keeping the twins clean and dry. However, even as the music professor marveled at the uncanny perceptiveness of his wife's nose – which indeed proved accurate in differentiating their daughters – he couldn't help teasing her good-naturedly that becoming a mother was really bringing out her Irish heritage: He never thought he'd see the day when his practical, no-nonsense librarian unabashedly embraced what was most likely a mixture of folk superstition and coincidence. For Mrs. Paroo, of course, wholeheartedly believed in this olfactory phenomenon, and held that Marian's heightened sense of smell arose from having been the one to carry the twins to term. "A mother always knows her babies best," she proudly averred.
But, Marian reflected with a tinge of envy as Penny began to babble excitedly and flail her arms at Harold as he entered the parlor, not even she could soothe the girls as quickly or easily as their father could.
Looking as impeccable as he did before their impromptu embrace in the front hall, Harold grinned at his wife and came over to take their fidgeting daughter in his arms – whereupon Penny promptly settled down and closed her eyes. As ever, Marian's heart melted at the sight of her husband cuddling one of their babies, and she beamed at the charming tableau father and daughter presented.
After craning his head to bestow a tender kiss on Penny's plump little cheek, Harold leaned over and whispered just as sweetly into his wife's ear, "I'm ready to leave whenever you are, Madam Librarian."
Marian smiled at her husband and said a little louder, for Jane's benefit, "Let's get the girls settled back down, and then we'll go straightaway."
Jane obligingly laid Elly in the bassinet; fortunately, she went right in without complaint. However, when Harold placed Penny next to her, she refused to relinquish her father and began to fidget querulously as he extricated his fingers from her tenacious grip.
Harold bent over to plant a soothing kiss on his miffed, squirming daughter. "Daddy's got to go now," he explained, attempting to appease Penny as he tucked a blanket around her. "But I'll be back before you know it."
But even after she was snugly swaddled, Penny refused to be consoled. Scrunching up her face, she started squealing – which set off Elly, as well. Harold looked forlorn and out of sorts; it wasn't often he failed so spectacularly at getting the girls settled.
As the music professor regarded his wailing daughters with a pained expression, Marian gently laid a hand on her husband's arm before he completely capitulated. "If we pick them up again, we'll never manage to leave!"
"But they sound so unhappy," he protested.
Marian couldn't help smiling at her husband's indulgence of such tantrums; being a father had truly brought out his sentimental side. While she herself was a tender-hearted mother who almost always dropped what she was doing to console her dear babies whenever they cried, there were times when even she realized it was best to leave them be.
"Penny and Elly will be fine," the librarian said firmly – for her own sake as well as her husband's. "Jane will be here to look after them. In any case, they've already been fed, changed, and had a nice, long nap." And just to be absolutely sure, she paused and assessed the modulation and pitch of the girls' cries. "And most importantly – they're not in any physical discomfort."
Harold nodded – if he hadn't known what an infant's howl of pain sounded like before, he certainly did after the events of last night – but he continued to gaze worriedly at the twins. "I hate to leave them like this, though… "
"Don't worry, Professor Hill – Penny and Elly will settle down eventually," Jane blithely reassured him as she stepped forward and began to rock the bassinet back and forth. "And once they do, we'll have a wonderful afternoon together!"
Though Harold still looked uncertain as to the best course of action, he allowed Marian to steer him out to the front hall after she finished informing her assistant they would return home around five o'clock. But Marian's restraint only went so far; as soon as they had rounded the corner, she tugged her husband's arm until he came to a halt, and the two of them listened carefully as Jane made soothing clucking noises in order to pacify their still-squalling daughters. To Marian's tremendous relief, Penny and Elly's cries soon subsided, and they began to babble gleefully back at their aunt.
The librarian was further encouraged to see the return of her husband's confident cheer; picking up the tuba case, Harold gave Marian a grin that made her heart flutter and, without further ado, ushered her out the front door with his usual devil-may-care aplomb.
XXX
It was hard for Harold to resist the temptation to lace his fingers through Marian's and sprint pell-mell through the streets with her until they burst into the wide-open fields at the edge of town. But somehow, he managed to restrain himself, walking demurely arm in arm with his wife. Any passerby would think the music professor and librarian were merely headed to the emporium to attend to their usual band business, as they often did on Saturdays.
But Harold could not keep the gleam out of his expression that suggested the two of them were embarking on something far more enjoyable than a run-of-the-mill errand – nor, from the looks of things, could Marian. Her eyes twinkled with anticipation and her kissable crimson lips were curved in the secret smile that always made Harold's pulse race faster. And she was wearing the most delectable, low-necked gown… he had to get the librarian to that cluster of oak trees on the hill, and soon! The music professor may have been a patient man when it came to waiting for a scheme to come to fruition, but he had been planning this rendezvous at the faraway field for the better part of a year; he'd waited even longer for this day than he had to marry Marian in the first place.
When they finally stepped off pavement and onto dirt, Harold let the tuba case fall unceremoniously to the ground and swept his dear little librarian up in his arms for a long and ardent kiss. Marian enthusiastically embraced him in return, though she did look a bit bewildered when his mouth finally released hers.
"Someone's eager to begin the festivities," she admonished breathlessly, even as she giggled and nestled closer to her husband. "We're barely out of the city limits!"
"You look too good to wait any longer, Madam Librarian," he chuckled, his breathing just as ragged as hers as he tilted his head to bestow several open-mouthed kisses along the line of her neck. "Especially as we still have a good fifteen-minute walk ahead of us… "
Harold's lips descended over his wife's once more, and then he finally let her go so he could retrieve the tuba case. Taking Marian's hand in his, he pulled her swiftly across the fields. Even now that they were alone, the music professor and librarian didn't exactly run, but they did travel at a much faster pace than would have been considered proper for such esteemed pillars of the community.
Fortunately, they were in little to no danger of being seen – and they both knew it. Instead of chiding her husband, Marian laughed gleefully as they traversed the primitive thoroughfare. Harold was thoroughly enchanted by the tableau his wife presented; the librarian moved lightly and gracefully as a doe, effortlessly matching the tempo of his stride. He surmised that Marian had been waiting for an opportunity to do something like this – hence his shameless encouragement of such gamboling.
Clearly, the librarian was enjoying every minute of their uninhibited jaunt across the fields. And why should she not? After several months of having to steadily curtail her physical activity to the point of complete bed rest, followed by a painful labor and gradual recovery from the ordeal of delivering not one but two babies, Marian could now stroll and dance and shelve books and navigate narrow spiral staircases as freely and easily as she had before she'd become pregnant. And on the rare nights husband and wife weren't so exhausted that all they could do was tumble into bed and fall right asleep after a delightful but wearying day of attending to their precocious daughters' needs, Marian had become quite the ardent and enthusiastic lover. She had always made love to Harold with warmth and generosity, but since the resumption of their conjugal activities this past Christmas, she had become quite unabashed in both her enjoyment and reciprocation of the music professor's caresses. Before the birth of their daughters, Marian would never have teased him so brazenly in the front hall when there was a guest waiting to be let in!
Perhaps the librarian's newfound inclination to revel in their connubial relations stemmed from gratitude and relief at how well things turned out. Though neither of them had openly admitted the full depth of their anxieties regarding her impending childbirth, Harold knew that Marian was just as keenly aware of everything they had to lose as he had been. While that sultry night in late August was indeed the last time husband and wife made love before Penny and Elly arrived, Marian continued to be especially tender toward the music professor in both word and deed, even when she was feeling vexed or unwell. And Harold resumed loving his wife as carefully but wholeheartedly as he had before, stealing every sweet moment with her that he possibly could and savoring them until they were gone; just as he held Marian until the very end on that warm July night, even as he heard Constable Locke and his posse thundering down the street toward the two of them. Not even Marcellus' shouts of warning and Winthrop's urgent tugging on his sleeve could get him to relinquish the woman he loved…
Suddenly, Harold needed to have Marian in his arms again. Although they were now halfway up the hill, he tugged his wife to a halt, dropped the tuba case again and pulled her into another kiss.
"For heaven's sake, Harold!" the librarian gasped as soon as their lips parted – though she did not sound at all put out by this unexpected interruption. "We're never going to get to where we're going, at this rate… " Her smile faded when she saw the seriousness radiating from his countenance, and she reached up to caress his cheek. "Is everything all right, darling?"
Harold buried his face in the side of her neck again. "I couldn't wait," was all he could manage, due to breathlessness from exertion and a sudden upswell of emotion. He gulped great lungfuls of air, trying to settle his racing heart. Despite the slight thickening that carrying twins had brought to his wife's waistline, Marian still felt so tiny in his arms. Even six months later, he wasn't entirely used to the idea that there was no roundness or fluttering in between them… and likely would never be between them again, for they had gotten their "heir and spare" all at once. The thought that the librarian's stomach would never again swell with his child both saddened and relieved Harold – while he'd been looking forward to the sweet anticipation of making a family with his beloved over the course of the next few years, he could happily live the rest of his life without experiencing that nebulous but pervasive dread of potentially losing the woman he'd built his entire life around. He took immense comfort in the fact that the line of Marian's body fitted against his as warmly and snugly as it had before he'd gotten her pregnant. It was as if they'd been made for each other from start to finish – no matter what happened.
"A penny for your thoughts," his wife offered tentatively, once his breathing had steadied.
Harold smiled. "Yes, a Penny – and an Elly, too. I was remembering how nervous I was about your confinement; I didn't know what to do with myself when you went into labor! More than anything, I wished I could have been by your side as you gave birth to our daughters."
"Mama is adamant that fathers-to-be should be kept out of the birthing room," Marian said ruefully. "According to her, devoted husbands tend to be dangerous nuisances at such trying times, however capable they may be in other arenas. She stopped allowing my father's presence even in the house after my birth, because seeing or even hearing her in pain distressed him so." She sighed. "And since Papa couldn't endure the turmoil of a successful delivery, it was probably a lot better for them both that he never witnessed what happened during her subsequent confinements… "
Harold nodded; he knew that in between Marian and Winthrop, Mrs. Paroo carried four babies that had never survived to draw their first breath. Two of her pregnancies had ended in miscarriages, and two had resulted in stillbirths. It was unwelcome information that the music professor couldn't stop remembering as he paced the parlor and tried to reassure himself that the piercing, anguished howls reverberating through the house at constant intervals did not necessarily indicate that the librarian's labor was going disastrously awry. But if Mrs. Paroo hadn't given him that pretext to leave the house after so many hours had passed without Marian making any progress – at least, none that he could discern from his inadequate vantage point – Harold would have stormed upstairs and demanded that she and Dr. Pyne let him in the room so he could see with his own eyes how his wife was truly faring.
Marian nestled even closer to the music professor and laid her head on his shoulder. "But I wanted you there, Harold. After it was finally over, I knew without a doubt I should never have let Mama convince me otherwise – especially when nobody could tell me where you'd gone, once I was finally able to give you the happy news. That was one of the worst half hours of my life!"
Harold tightened his arms around the librarian. "Part of me knew that I should have gone straight home from the Washburns' after dinner," he said ruefully. He had attempted to make up for his thoughtless disappearance by being the most attentive and conscientious of husbands over the next few weeks – although Marian quickly forgave his absence, he made sure to give her a full report of his doings if he so much as left the house to check the mailbox – but even so, his impromptu excursion was one of the few actions for which he would always hold a slight but lingering regret. "But since your mother had no new progress to report when I last phoned, I couldn't bring myself to do it just yet; remaining under the same roof as my laboring wife but not being allowed so much as a glimpse of her was more than I could tolerate. Which is why, should we be blessed with another child, I plan to remain right by your side as our baby's being born – no matter what anyone else says. That is," he demurred as Marian's head shot up to look at him, "if you want me."
For a moment, the librarian merely gazed at Harold with glistening eyes, before pulling him close for a warm and grateful hug. As the music professor cemented their new understanding with several small, sweet kisses along the line of his wife's jaw, he remembered another promise he'd made to Marian, and grinned as anticipation warmed his blood once more. It was going to be a wonderful afternoon at the faraway field…
However, when they finally arrived at their usual spot beneath the trio of oak trees on the top of the hill, Harold did not throw his arms around his wife and commence making love to her immediately. While such impatient excitement fueled a good deal of the fun of fooling around outside, he didn't want his first such tryst with Marian to be the sort of slapdash, sordid, hurry-up affair he'd often been forced to settle for as a conman who, soon after completing his successful seduction, had to skedaddle right out of town before the law apprehended him. Even as he introduced his beloved to the wickeder side of lovemaking, Harold made it a point of pride to differentiate from his previous debauchery; for her first tryst at the faraway field, the librarian was going to get something as sweet and slow and carefully crafted as their wedding night.
But as they spread their blanket on the grass, unpacked lunch and got comfortably settled, the former charlatan wondered if he ought to have made his advances right away. As husband and wife ate their midday meal, the silence between them gradually transformed from companionable to strained; it was clear from Marian's nervous smiles, crimson cheeks and averted gaze that she was growing more and more reticent about the afternoon she surmised he had planned for them.
Soon Harold was avoiding his wife's eyes just as she was avoiding his – only he looked away so she wouldn't see the deep disappointment in his expression and feel obligated, however unwillingly, to surrender to his embrace. Because even in the midst of his discontent, he understood her burgeoning apprehension. While it was one thing to dream about and even plan an illicit outdoor rendezvous, it was quite another to outright engage in such lascivious activities. Despite how bold and confident a lover Marian had become, she was still very much the wholesome librarian. While ladylike hesitancy would never have stymied the seduction schemes of Harold Hill, unrepentant conman, it certainly threw a wrench in the desires of Harold Hill, devoted husband and family man.
"Marian," the music professor said in a quiet, earnest voice as he scooted over to his wife and wrapped his arms around her waist, "anything that happens between us this afternoon will be entirely the result of natural and mutual desire – nothing forced. If we don't end up making love this afternoon, so be it. I'm content enough to simply enjoy the picnic and the view with you… and maybe partake in a little light canoodling," he finished with a grin.
Marian's eyes widened in astonishment at this declaration, and she met her husband's gaze once more. As she raised a skeptical eyebrow at him, Harold smiled benignly in return, and did not shrink from her appraising scrutiny of his countenance.
"You won't be disappointed to settle for mere canoodling?" the librarian asked shrewdly, after a lengthy silence had passed between them.
"Not at all – we can always make love this evening, after the girls fall asleep," Harold reminded her, his eyes twinkling once more as he leaned in to whisper in a low, velvety voice, "This afternoon at the faraway field can be one long, delightful prelude leading up to tonight. What better way to heighten the anticipation by enjoying a nice meal together and sharing a few deep kisses on a warm spring day, enjoying the pleasant breezes as they raise goose bumps on one's skin – " He blew softly in the hollow of Marian's throat, making her giggle and shiver. Finding her reaction irresistible, Harold did it again.
"Stop it – that tickles!" she gasped, tilting her torso away from him as best she could while his arms were still wrapped around her.
Harold chuckled and gave his wife's waist a little squeeze – making her jump and quiver even more. "That's precisely why I'm doing that, Madam Librarian."
"Harold, please!" she admonished, a tinge of real annoyance entering her laughter.
Obligingly, the music professor subsided and laid his head on her shoulder. "I'm sorry, darling," he said, starting out repentantly enough. But then his gaze settled on one of the blue butterflies embroidered on her collar, and he impishly added, "I just couldn't help myself; your dress is giving me delightful butterflies… "
Marian groaned and swatted her husband on the arm. "Oh, that's just terrible," she reproved – though the indulgent note had now crept back into her tone. "Surely, you can do a little better than that!"
"I can do a lot better than that," Harold asserted, a heated note entering his own voice. Lowering his lips to the hollow of his wife's throat, he planted a soft kiss against it – and then traced his mouth sweetly up the line of her slender neck until he had reached the sensitive spot behind her ear.
Sighing in delighted approval, Marian relaxed into his arms, her eyelashes fluttering against his cheek as she nestled even closer to him. Harold couldn't help twitching – the sensation tickled him something fierce. This "Achilles' heel" of sorts wasn't something he'd discovered about himself until their honeymoon; before Marian, Harold had rarely lingered in the sort of lengthy, idle embraces that could foster such intimate and startling revelations. The former conman's proximity to previous paramours had been determined solely by what was required to achieve profit or pleasure, and his interest in remaining ensconced in even an attractive woman's embrace often dwindled once he'd obtained satisfaction. Of course, Harold was not such a graceless cad as to leave a bed immediately or even several minutes after climax, but it was always a welcome relief when his lover finally succumbed to sleep and he could slip away without difficulty.
But with Marian, the music professor could easily while away a whole morning or afternoon lying in her arms and, once they'd finally tied the knot, he gleefully seized any opportunity to do so. He trusted her with the vulnerabilities of his body and soul just as she trusted him with hers in return. Because while Marian enjoyed teasing her husband every now and then since she'd accidentally discovered this little tic, her actions were clearly inadvertent in this instance; she'd been too caught up in the pleasure he was giving her for her gesture to have arisen from mischief aforethought.
However, as soon as he convulsed at her touch, the librarian let out a sly giggle and blinked against his cheek a second time. Harold twitched even more. "Now who's being naughty?" he chided with a chuckle, moving his face away from the reach of her long lashes.
Marian's kissable crimson lips puckered into the most charming pout. "Well now," she said in mock-petulance, "I thought since you were so delighted by my butterflies, I ought to kiss you like one!" Her eyes gleamed impishly as they trailed down to his throat. "Perhaps you might enjoy it more if I bestowed such blandishments on a different area… "
Even the thought of her lashes fluttering against his neck was enough to send Harold into another paroxysm – especially when Marian angled her head menacingly at him. But thanks to his lightning-quick reflexes, the music professor managed to gather his wife tight against him long before she could carry out this threat, and he smoothly maneuvered her into a reclining position. Once the librarian was pinned flat on her back beneath him – even as she giggled and squirmed in his arms, she helpfully straightened out her legs as he lowered her to the ground – Harold slid a leg over hers.
Although he now had Marian solidly at his mercy, she gazed triumphantly up at him – she had bested him elegantly and effectively, and they both knew it. "So how does it feel to receive a taste of your own medicine, Professor Hill?"
"Retaliation is one thing," the rattled music professor allowed, struggling to sound stern even as he shook with mirth, "but lash-tickling in response to a few tiny puffs of air blown softly is akin to killing a mosquito with an anvil!"
With a wicked smile, Marian raised her head and fluttered her lashes against his cheek again.
Harold shivered and burst into laughter. "Why, you ruthless little vixen! You're definitely going to pay for that… "
Scooting his body a little lower, Harold buried his head in her décolletage and began nibbling lightly at the tops of her breasts. Marian twisted in his arms and shrieked with helpless laughter as he carried out his gentle but inexorable assault on what he knew to be one of her most sensitive areas – especially as she was still nursing the twins.
Once Harold felt he'd made his point, he raised his head to grin victoriously at his tousled, breathless wife. And that wasn't the only victory he was relishing: "Say now, my dear little librarian… so much for the canard that a lady doesn't roll around on the ground," he slyly observed. When Marian looked bewildered, he explained, "Remember the assertion you made a few years ago when we were still courting, on that crisp autumn afternoon Winthrop asked you to join us in our leaf fort and help fend off the imaginary conquistadores invading your mother's backyard? When you declined to be a part of such revels, I promised myself right then and there that someday after we'd married, I'd demonstrate just how exhilarating rolling around on the ground could be… " He leaned in and nuzzled her neck.
Blushing thoroughly crimson, Marian nevertheless laughed and cupped the music professor's face in her palms, pulling him to her for what he anticipated was going to be a deep and delicious kiss – but then she stopped just short of meeting his mouth with hers. "Yes, I do remember that little conversation," she said in a throaty voice, her warm breath tickling his lips. Enchanted, Harold attempted to bridge the maddening gap remaining between them, but she turned her head slightly, keeping herself just out of his reach as she continued, "And while I may have revised my opinion on the suitability of ladies rolling around on the ground under certain circumstances, I still hold that you're just as much of a conniving libertine today as you were back then, Mister Hill."
Harold shook her hands loose. "And you love it, just the same," he hotly retorted, his mouth covering hers.
His kiss was hard, deep and demanding; it wasn't often the music professor was so adamant in his advances, but this being their first outing at the faraway field as husband and wife where the librarian wasn't in a delicate condition, coupled with Marian's relentless teasing, had struck several damaging blows to his self-control. It certainly didn't help matters that not only did Marian's lips part immediately to welcome him, she also twined her fingers in his curls and began to writhe against him as his tongue tenaciously explored the contours of her mouth. When her legs shifted and parted involuntarily due to her movements beneath him, Harold took the opportunity to nudge his thigh in between hers – and kept it there. At that, Marian moaned and extricated one of her hands from his hair, her fingers roaming downward to clutch boldly at his backside. As she brought his hardness flush against her, his hand feverishly found its way beneath the hem of her skirt and all the way up to the opening of her drawers until he was stroking the bare skin of her inner thigh, making her moan even louder.
So far, husband and wife weren't doing anything they hadn't already done at the faraway field before. But they were fast approaching the point of no return and, as much as Harold loved his wife and respected her sense of propriety, he was no sterling white knight when it came to resisting Marian – especially when she was in such a reckless, erotic mood. Her earlier reticence had all but evaporated, so there was no longer any immediate, pressing consideration to stop him from surpassing prelude and going right into consummation. If they progressed any further in their caresses, even the prospect of his wife regretting their lovemaking later wasn't going to be enough for Harold to restrain himself.
Before the last vestige of his finer feelings faded, Harold marshaled a strength of character he would never have believed he possessed, and broke their kiss. "Marian, we have to stop now," he said abruptly, his voice shaking. In no shape to sum up the situation with his usual suave finesse, he told her the plain truth: "Because if we don't, soon I won't be able to."
Harold expected Marian to blush and withdraw, embarrassed by her own forwardness. Instead, she gaped at him with eyes that were both confused and – dare he imagine? – disappointed.
"Do you want to stop, Harold?" she asked softly.
Marian's arms were still around him, the fingers of her left hand lightly stroking the back of his neck. Harold's heart hammered wildly in his chest at her touch. His restraint had never been so sorely tested – and of all the times in the past he'd wrestled with his baser inclinations when it came to the lovely librarian, that was really saying something. Harold couldn't demur or play games; his desire was too intense. "No, I don't want to stop," he said vehemently. "I've never wanted to stop anything less in my entire life!" He buried his head in the crook of her neck and took a few deep breaths, trying to rein his carnal instincts in. "If I could, I'd make love to you all afternoon, Marian. But I'm not about to seduce you against your will – "
"Oh Harold, of course I want you to make love to me this afternoon," Marian interrupted, sounding immensely relieved as she tightened her arms around him.
Now it was Harold's turn to goggle at her. "You do?" he asked, astounded. Meeting his wife's gaze, he saw that she was indeed beaming at him with eyes full of invitation and yearning.
"Harold, I made that decision long before we came here," she affirmed. "Do you remember the afternoon last August when Jane told me all about losing the man she loved?"
Harold nodded. Over time, Marian had told him more and more about Miss Peabody's doomed romance with Professor Randall, until he eventually knew the entire story as well as his wife did. Realizing the full scope of the assistant librarian's plight had only increased his admiration of her cheerful gumption; not many sadder-but-wiser girls could have looked upon the world without at least a little acrimony after such a tremendous loss.
"Well," Marian continued, "it was then that I realized – truly realized – just how precious and fleeting life really is. And I came to the conclusion that if I survived labor without any complications, I'd do a better job of embracing life's pleasures and living to the fullest." She raised her head to bestow a soft kiss on her husband's cheek. "I always knew we'd come back to the faraway field together – and after what you promised me on the footbridge last summer, I knew you'd have much more in mind than the usual 'light canoodling.' So over the past year, I've looked forward to this day as eagerly as I once looked forward to our wedding night."
"But there was a little trepidation mixed in, as well," Harold couldn't help pointing out, even as his desire steadily rose once more.
"A little," Marian acknowledged with a small smile. "But why shouldn't I be nervous? After all, it's quite a leap forward for the strait-laced librarian to make love outside, even in a secluded place like this." Her smile turned coquettish as she cast a downward glance at their tangled legs. "Still, you did promise me anything that happened between us this afternoon would be the result of natural and mutual desire… and I would say that in our present embrace, we're about as 'natural and mutual' as two people can possibly get!"
His apprehension vanishing at last, Harold grinned at his wife in sheer elation. "So," he said mischievously, unable to resist getting in one more playful remark before things got extremely serious between the two of them, "I suppose we can blame our little misunderstanding on a minor case of the 'butterflies,' then?"
Clearly, Marian's patience had reached its peak; though her eyes continued to twinkle with mirth, she cupped Harold's cheeks and let out a scolding, "Ssh!" before capturing his mouth in a heated kiss.
For a brief, wonderful moment, Harold allowed himself to succumb to the librarian's charms, before taking the reins and softening their kiss into something gentler, slower and sweeter. He'd been dreaming of this kind of lovemaking with Marian for over a year, and now that they were finally here, he wasn't about to rush things. Already this afternoon, Harold had fallen into the same trap as he did on their wedding night; what he'd been doing before was akin to hastily ravishing his wife on the parlor sofa instead of bringing her up to their bed for a proper and thorough introduction to passion's delights.
Fortunately, Marian seemed content to follow his lead – especially when he began to tug the already-low bodice of her dress down, even as he continued to kiss her as tenderly as if it were their first time making love. When his fingers lightly traced the creamy skin of the librarian's throat and décolletage, she shivered and arched herself against him – which gave Harold just the opening he needed to slip his hand behind her back in order to begin unfastening the buttons of her gown. However, after a few seconds of futile fumbling, the perplexed music professor was forced to break their kiss as he wondered aloud in a panting voice, "And just where are those darned buttons?"
"Oh, I ought to have known this would happen!" Marian laughed, sounding just as breathless and eager as he presently felt. Catching her husband's still-wandering hand, she brought it back to the front of her bodice. As it turned out, the fastenings were cleverly concealed beneath the vertical, blue-trimmed pleat bordering the left side of her square collar and running all the way down to her waist. At first, Harold was slightly irked by this devious design, but he soon came to appreciate the convenience of this setup when he discovered just how well it aided and abetted the continuation of soft, deep kisses as he resumed unfastening the bodice of his supine wife.
"Now you understand why I chose this particular gown," Marian informed her husband with a sly smile as he slipped his hands inside her open bodice to undo the laces of her corset.
This, too, was made easier by the fact that the librarian was still wearing her maternity corset, which was laced up the sides as well as in the back. Moving with confident ease, the music professor loosened the side laces and popped open the front. As Marian sighed in happy relief, Harold felt his body tighten even more at the fullness and arousal of his wife's breasts. Her nipples were hard and tight, the darkened areolas visible plain as day through her thin cotton camisole; it was all he could do not to lower his mouth to taste this banquet before him. However, the librarian was still nursing the twins, and while she still moaned in genuine delight when her husband's lips traced lightly over the tops and sides of her breasts, Harold knew she could not enjoy such direct, amorous attentions until their daughters were fully weaned.
But there was plenty more to whet his appetite while giving Marian just as much pleasure in return, so without regret or ado, Harold lowered his mouth to his wife's stomach and focused his affections on her soft, round belly. He was well aware that Marian was somewhat miffed by her slow progress in returning to her previous slenderness; although he'd overheard her mother assuring her it was not at all inconceivable for a woman who'd carried twins to remain slightly plump even six months later, he knew it stung his dear little librarian a bit when Mrs. Shinn and the other ladies – save Ethel Washburn, who was presently pregnant with her and Marcellus' first child – reported attaining their former figures within four to five months of their children's births. However, Harold relished the extra fullness motherhood had brought to his wife's curves, and he never missed an opportunity to demonstrate just how attractive she was to him.
As Marian began to writhe beneath her husband's tender ministrations, one of his hands found its way back beneath the hem of her skirt and traced its way up her thigh. When his fingers brushed the ribbons of her drawers, the librarian let out a low moan and lifted her backside off the ground in a heated invitation for him to tug these undergarments from her waist.
Groaning as Marian's display of desire intensified his own, Harold lifted his lips from her stomach and slid his body upward to capture her gasping mouth in a kiss. "All in good time, my dear little librarian," he promised in a husky whisper. Finding the opening in her drawers at last, his fingers traced soft heat and wetness and he slipped not one, but two fingers inside of her.
At that, Marian let out a surprised gasp and her head lolled back; for a moment, Harold wondered if he'd been a little too eager. But as he began to caress her in long, languorous strokes, she clutched him even tighter and cried out his name in a pleading voice. Grinning at her impatience, Harold obligingly increased the pace of his thrusts, taking full advantage of the liberties the librarian's split-seam drawers allowed him. He'd always taken perverse delight in the fact that the opening in a woman's undergarments was so accessible, despite being surrounded by cumbersome petticoats and skirts. It was almost as if drawers were invented to aid and abet outdoor mischief, even if their design was first and foremost the most practical, efficient and comfortable undergarment that could be worn beneath a lady's multi-layered ensemble.
As Marian's body shuddered against his and her cries intensified as she approached ecstasy, Harold lowered his mouth to her neck to further heighten her pleasure with a love-bite. Indeed, she let out a blissful scream – but then, inexplicably, she gasped and stiffened in Harold's arms.
His fingers immediately halted in their frenzied ministrations. "What's the matter, darling?" he asked in breathless alarm. Had he inadvertently hurt her?
Marian looked at him with mortified eyes. "Do you think anyone could have heard that?"
Harold buried his head in the crook of her shoulder so she wouldn't see he was gasping in laughter rather than desire. "It's not likely – there's no one around for miles," he assured her once he caught his breath. Hoping to recapture the mood, he nibbled sweetly at his wife's neck and continued, "That's exactly why I brought you to such a remote place, my dear little librarian – so you could let yourself go to your heart's content… "
Marian still didn't seem entirely convinced – though she wound her fingers in the music professor's tresses and held him against her as she postulated, "Suppose our cries are carried on the wind?"
Wondering if the modest librarian was losing her nerve for their tryst after all, Harold lifted his head to look appraisingly at her. To his relief, her expression revealed a woman who was desperate to be convinced of the wrongness of her assertions. But whether her emotional state stemmed merely from a baser need to sate the arousal he'd awakened in her or a deeper conviction to live life to the fullest, he wasn't certain. And when Marian's hands reached down to boldly caress him through his trousers, he wasn't about to ask any more questions. Whatever her reasons were, she wanted him – and he was never a man to say no to this.
"They won't be," Harold avowed hotly, and covered her lips with his. As Marian relaxed and surrendered to delight once more beneath his capable hands, his mouth remained firmly clamped over hers. Muffling each other's moans in this manner was a trick they often used at home to avoid waking their daughters, and would prove just as useful here. And perhaps Marian was right to be a little cautious. While Harold had caressed her most intimate areas during their previous jaunt to the faraway field, he hadn't aroused her all the way to the point of ecstasy… though she'd come awfully close that day.
But this time, Harold made absolute sure his wife achieved her release, tenderly and skillfully gliding his fingers in and out of her, varying the tempo and intensity of his thrusts as she gasped and then moaned beneath his ardent ministrations, until at last, her lips parted from his and she let out a long, keening wail that made his erection strain even tighter against his trousers and nearly sent him rushing headlong into climax, as well. Marian truly was the most passionate, tender and alluring lover he'd ever had; letting out a groan as she continued to clench and throb around his stilled fingers, Harold closed his eyes and savored the wonderful sensation of his wife's satisfaction.
When her trembling finally subsided and his breathing finally steadied, Harold withdrew his hand from in between her thighs and tugged the ribbons of her drawers loose. "Now it's time to remove these," he said in a hoarse, heated whisper.
Not only did Marian obligingly lift her body as he pulled her drawers down her legs, her hand slid inside his trousers and closed around his hardness – the music professor was stunned to discover that somehow, the crafty librarian had managed to undo his belt and the front of his pants without his even noticing. As he'd brought her to climax, he'd enjoyed her caresses of reciprocation, but he hadn't realized she'd gotten so far along in undressing him in return. Marshaling his addled wits, Harold immediately laid his hand over Marian's. After several excruciating false starts followed by a solid half hour of fooling around, he was getting too close to the edge – if her nimble fingers found their way beneath his thin cotton union suit to stroke his bare erection, he'd tumble right over the precipice. "We'll get to me soon," he promised, bestowing several ardent kisses on her brow as it crinkled in frustration. "I'm in absolutely no rush to finish what we've started… "
Needing to calm himself down a little before initiating their lovemaking in earnest, Harold raised his wife to a sitting position, reached into her open bodice and, after pausing to gently rub his thumb over her taut nipple, tugged her corset out from around her. As the deliciously disheveled librarian gazed at him with fervent eyes and a ravenous smile, he withdrew from their embrace to stow her corset and drawers safely in the tuba case… and, at long last, to remove some of his own clothing.
Knowing that Marian wasn't going to wait too much longer for him to get his act together, Harold moved quickly and efficiently; this was a refined operation and, after several years of honing his craft, he had making love outside down to a science. He'd already divested the librarian of the few garments he planned to remove from her, ensuring a tryst that was comfortable, yet still somewhat discreet in appearance. Likewise, he planned to remain judicious in the clothing he relinquished. He'd already taken off his hat and suit-coat before sitting down to lunch, and since Marian had already unfastened his trousers, all that was left for him to do was remove his belt and bowtie, which he placed in the tuba case for safekeeping – lest they become infested by any chiggers that happened to be in the vicinity.
However, as Harold yanked his dress shirt free from his pants and started unbuttoning it, he paused, in a bit of a dither: Should he simply leave his shirt to hang loosely open by his sides, or should he remove it entirely? It probably would have been better to place this garment in the tuba case with everything else, but he didn't want to shed too many clothes – especially when he was leaving Marian so many of hers!
Suddenly, the decision was made for Harold when the librarian reached over and pulled him back to her. As she hurriedly took over the unbuttoning of his shirt, he just as hastily worked himself free of the drawers of his union suit and whispered for Marian to straddle his lap when she had finished in her task. Once the librarian had eased the music professor out of his dress shirt and placed it in the tuba case, she happily complied – though she primly arranged her skirts around her legs as she got settled. Harold began to chuckle at his wife's fastidiousness, but then his laughter was lost in a gasp when her warmth and wetness enveloped him.
As Marian took him in, she let out the most delicious moan and arched her body against his. Letting out a loud groan as he felt her soft curves press into him, Harold grabbed his wife by her hips. And then they were moving together urgently, frantically, panting heavily as they rocked back and forth in each other's arms. Their tryst was just as erotic as Harold had dreamed; the incongruity of them being outside and nearly fully clothed, yet still entwined so intimately, was exquisite in its impropriety. And Marian presented the most captivating picture as he made love to her: her eyes were half closed, her mouth was open in the little o he loved to see, and her head was tossed back, her blonde curls falling out of their chignon and cascading down her back as she writhed against him with fierce abandon.
As Marian's cries mounted, Harold willed himself to persevere until she achieved her pleasure. The moment she let out that telltale wail of ecstasy – no longer bothering to so much as bite her lip to contain the full measure of her delight – he pulled her tight against him, buried his head in the crook of her shoulder, and shouted her name as he lost himself in the sensation of his own, long-awaited release.
As husband and wife continued to hold each other close, their bodies still trembling and their hearts still beating wildly, the most wonderful sense of stillness descended. Harold had always relished this pause after lovemaking, after the blazing fire and heat of passion had burned itself out, because for one brief moment, he was finally able to stop selling and simply enjoy the pleasure he'd worked so hard to achieve. Inevitably, complacency would set in and the fly-by-night salesman would soon be assailed, if not by local constabulary, then by his own inexorable urge to move on, to see what gorgeous stranger awaited him in the next town… and the next… and the next. For Harold, the brief, fleeting moments of euphoric peace he experienced in a lover's arms were as close to heaven as he ever thought he'd get.
At least, they were until he met Marian. Because when Harold made love to her, his attraction didn't dwindle into the usual cold ashes left behind after a torrid but transitory affair. There may have been a stillness between him and the librarian, but there were also embers that smoldered perpetually, just waiting to be rekindled. He had promised Marian on their wedding night that he would love her like this for the rest of his life, and to his amazement and elation, it was a promise he could not only keep, but one that also made him downright wistful for the actual possibility of going to a heavenly hereafter with her when they eventually reached the end of their days on earth.
So while Harold immensely enjoyed these interludes of post-coital quietude with Marian, he normally wasn't able to contain his invigorated exhilaration, which is why he tended to break this lovely silence with a grin and a flirtatious remark. But this time, he felt a strange but satisfying sensation he could only describe as tranquil lethargy, and was content to simply hold the woman he loved more than his old wanderlust, the independence of bachelorhood and even life itself, and thank whatever fortune, fate or deity saw fit to grant him this happiness with her.
It was Marian who finally raised her head to look into his eyes and, with a dreamy, sated smile, she leaned in and kissed him softly on the lips before laying her head on his shoulder again. "Thank you, Harold," she said earnestly. "Thank you for bringing this tremendous, wonderful passion into my life."
Letting out the sigh of relief he hadn't realized he'd been holding in, Harold warmly kissed his wife's hair. "Thank you for giving me a reason to do something greater with mine," he whispered, slipping a hand between them and laying his fingers possessively on her stomach. "Thank you for giving me two more reasons."
XXX
Curled up utterly content in her husband's embrace, Marian Paroo Hill fondly surveyed the vast, forget-me-not blue Iowan skies. As the warm spring breezes bathed her cheeks and stirred her rumpled curls, the librarian let out a languid sigh and closed her eyes in sheer bliss. Back in the days when she was a lonely spinster with few prospects for romance, she had often sat in this very spot and dreamed of lying quietly in her white knight's arms as she gazed up at the heavens… and perhaps pausing in her ruminations every now and then to share a few passionate but chaste kisses with her beau. Even if she could have conceived of physical intimacies as intense as those she'd just shared with Harold, the maiden librarian would never have dared to fathom just how eagerly and unabashedly she was able to make love to a man when they were out in the open.
Perhaps her unusual enthusiasm for such illicit rendezvous was due to their lovemaking having lost much of its spontaneity and abandon since the birth of their daughters. Although husband and wife had happily resumed marital relations on Christmas Eve and continued to enjoy their conjugal embraces wholeheartedly, they did not couple as frequently as they did before, and they were now taking care not to conceive additional children. Harold had sagely suggested this course of action after Marian experienced the resumption of her monthly courses at four months – which came as quite the surprise, as the librarian was still nursing the twins on a somewhat regular basis, though not nearly as frequently as she did at first – and with her full and relieved blessing, he had taken the lead in procuring the necessary devices.
However, Marian knew that while her husband was grateful he could now engage in lovemaking with her as often as he pleased without worrying that his vigorous carnal appetites would someday leave her a widow with a large brood to look after, she also surmised that having to take such precautions grated on him at times. And if truth be told, she also missed the spontaneity and abandon that had colored their passion during the first few months of their marriage. So when Harold informed her that he was planning to take her to the faraway field this afternoon, her stomach fluttered with a keen and feverish anticipation she hadn't felt in quite some time.
Although Marian was aware that Harold was carrying just as much pent-up desire as she had been these past several months – not to mention that after having to treat her with kid gloves for so long first due to her delicate condition and then due to the presence of "little pitchers" in the house, he was likely relishing this rare opportunity to give free rein to his desires – the sheer impatience of his passion still came as a shock to her. Harold could hardly keep his hands off her curves and his mouth off her lips and neck long enough to spirit her away to this remote place, and while Marian was secure in her convictions that the music professor was not and never had been the kind of man who took what he wanted from a woman by outright force, there were distinctly adamant overtones to his advances that suggested he wasn't willing or able to let their prelude unfold at its usual measured pace. Instead of carefully drawing out her anticipation until she succumbed unreservedly to his seduction, Harold kissed her hard and embraced her with a fervor that was downright fierce.
Yet the harder he kissed her and the more insistently he caressed her, the more Marian wanted him. She had been somewhat reticent as she ate her lunch and eyed her restless husband, wondering if his volatile passion would be too overwhelming for her admittedly Victorian sensibilities. But when Harold sweetly and unselfishly offered her an out, the librarian's apprehensions vanished and she found herself shamelessly teasing her husband until he abandoned his newfound restraint and ravished her. And she stepped right off this precarious precipice with him, matching the music professor's ardor and reciprocating each of his kisses and caresses and thrusts until they were both panting not just with ecstasy but, at long last, release. After their lovemaking was over, they remained in their embrace for just a little while longer, simply holding each other and savoring the deep and wonderful stillness between them. And when Harold smoothed her skirts with his still-trembling fingers before refastening his trousers, wrapping his arms tightly around her and pulling her down to lie on the blanket with him, Marian knew that however much she might blush when her husband turned toward her with that affectionate but well-pleased grin, she would never regret the decision she'd made all those months ago.
But when Harold finally raised his head to meet her gaze, his smile was unusually gentle – he looked both sated and pleasantly stunned.
Delighted by this turn of events, Marian arched an eyebrow at her befuddled husband and said, "So, darling… was our latest trip to the faraway field everything you dreamed it would be?
"Everything – and more," the music professor replied in an earnest and tender voice. His finger lightly traced one of the blue butterflies at her collar. "I still can't believe my luck in landing you, Marian… whatever fortune, fate of deity put you in my path certainly knew what they were doing!"
"Oh, Harold!" she said with a laugh – which softened into a dreamy sigh when he dipped his head to nuzzle gently at her throat.
"This is the third time we've been to the faraway field," he observed in between kisses. "And given the events of the past hour, I'd have to say the old adage is true – the third time's definitely the charm!"
"Is it really, Professor Hill?" the librarian asked in a mock-scandalized tone.
Harold lifted his head again, this time sporting his trademark self-satisfied grin. "Yes indeed, Madam Librarian – and it'll also be the charm the fourth, fifth, sixth and so forth times I take you here, as well!"
Feeling the heated blush spread across her cheeks at last, Marian nevertheless pulled her husband to her for a long kiss before they subsided into a quiet embrace once more. They still had at least three hours before they had to pack up and head home to their daughters, and the afternoon was looking awfully promising for at least one more tryst. Possibly two, if the librarian knew her charming music professor. When Harold reached up to caress her curls, Marian smiled, nestled even closer to him, and closed her eyes as she luxuriated in his tender ministrations. It was going to be a wonderful afternoon…
"I hate to spoil such a perfect moment, darling," he murmured into her tresses, "but if we remain in this position for too much longer, we're both going to fall asleep."
Too comfortable to care, Marian nodded slightly and gave a noncommittal "mmhmm" before lapsing back into stillness and silence.
Harold chuckled. "Does this mean I have your permission to break the solemn promise you exhorted from me earlier?"
"Mmhmm," the librarian repeated, feeling herself drift even further into a delightful doze.
Her husband chuckled again and said something else, but by now, Marian was too far gone to decipher speech… until she found herself being pulled smoothly but abruptly into a sitting position.
"For heaven's sake, Harold!" she said crossly as alertness sharpened her senses once more. "Was that really necessary?"
He grinned and, once she had fully recovered her bearings, he helped her to her feet. "A promise is a promise, my dear little librarian – and when I first started courting you, I swore to myself that my days of breaking them were over. You might not be concerned about chiggers at present, but you'll thank me for this later tonight, when you're not itching up a storm as we once again attempt to soothe our poor, teething daughters to sleep!"
Marian turned away from him partly on the pretense of packing the lunch dishes back into the tuba case, but mostly so he wouldn't see the pleased smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "Well, as you pointed out earlier, it's a bit early in the season for those nasty insects to be up and about – not to mention we packed a much thicker blanket this time around! We probably would have been fine to fall asleep for a little while, at least… "
Harold wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her into a warm hug. "Darling, this isn't the only romantic rendezvous I had planned for us this afternoon," he confessed, his voice softening. "While an outing to the faraway field is always a delight, I also look forward to the rare occasions we get to be entirely alone together at home." He paused to trace the outline of her ear with his mouth before continuing, "As much fun as we had today, I missed being able to undress you completely and kiss you everywhere, and there's really only one place I can do that with the absolute certainty we'll remain hidden from prying eyes. So I arranged for Miss Peabody to take Penny and Elly to your mother's house at two o'clock – where she'll likely remain for the rest of the afternoon, right along with the girls!"
Marian smiled at her husband's observation. Ever since that sweltering night last August when the two ladies joined forces to ensure the pregnant librarian and injured music professor's comfort, her mother had doted on Jane just as much as she did her own granddaughters. Likewise, the young woman had warmly returned the matron's familial affections.
"By my estimate, it's about one thirty now… so by the time we get home, the house should be nice and empty," Harold surmised, pulling her even closer. "I thought we could take a nice, long bath and then spend the rest of the afternoon in bed… or wherever else tickles our fancy. For instance," he said in a husky whisper as his lips meandered down to her neck, "I can't even remember the last time we made love in the music room… "
"We are overdue," Marian agreed in a throaty voice, closing her eyes and losing herself in her husband's ardent caresses.
But once again, Harold put an end to their reverie far too soon for her liking. "Oh Marian," he sighed as he lifted his lips from her neck and took a small step backward so she could no longer press into him. "We'd better stop this and get dressed… otherwise we'll never make it home!"
With an exasperated sigh, Marian moved out of her husband's embrace and retrieved her corset and drawers from the tuba case. But in truth, she was grateful for Harold's foresight. With her disheveled tresses and rumpled skirts, it was going to be difficult enough to make herself presentable for the long journey home; an additional tryst would no doubt make such ablutions absolutely impossible! Indeed, the librarian was starting to grow uneasy at the prospect of returning to town. Though she and Harold had not cast off each other's garments with abandon, the disarray that resulted from their tryst wasn't going to be quite so easy to tidy up, this time. And even if Marian did manage to smooth her hair and gown into some semblance of decency, would it be possible to reach home without arousing anyone's suspicion?
But to the librarian's delight, not only did she discover that the tuba case contained her blue paisley shawl – the longest and widest wrap she owned – she also unearthed her brush and mirror set, as well as a comb for Harold. When Marian marveled aloud at her husband's farsightedness, he merely grinned and replied, "I've had both the time and the experience to consider these crucial details, my dear little librarian!"
Frowning slightly at the music professor's offhand but revealing remark, Marian turned her attention back toward neatening her ensemble. Though she was certain of her husband's fidelity and devotion, she was not particularly fond of being reminded that he was no stranger to such illicit embraces – and had likely made love to a vast number of women in a vast number of fields, forests and back alleys. Marian's stomach flip-flopped unpleasantly at the image of Harold coupling with other women with as much gusto and passion as he'd coupled with her, and she couldn't help wondering just how she measured up to the plethora of lovers he'd had before. While Harold had once confessed that before meeting her, the closest he'd ever come to falling in love was with Eileen – and even then, he added that he wasn't quite sure he'd use such a strong word as love to denote his feelings for the mercurial lass – the subject of his previous liaisons remained largely unspoken between the two of them. Marian had not wanted to know too much about this aspect of her husband's checkered past, and Harold had not wanted to tell her; they'd both come to the tacit agreement that it was best not to discuss such sordid details. And when he made love to her so sweetly and wholeheartedly and earnestly, always striving to ensure her comfort even when it was diametrically opposed to his baser desires, it was easy to forget that he was once an unscrupulous philanderer…
But as Marian regarded the mirror and brush in her hand, she suddenly realized how silly her apprehensions were. How many women had Harold gone to such lengths to protect their reputations? While he might have conducted himself with an air of gentlemanly discretion when it came to arranging an affair, she deemed it highly unlikely that he would have lingered long enough afterward to ensure that the lady's every last strand of hair was neatly smoothed back into place – let alone provide her with the objects necessary for such grooming! And while she was at it, how many times had Harold attempted to stop himself from ravishing her this afternoon, until she unequivocally told him she'd been waiting for him to do just that? Though this afternoon was the first time they engaged in a rendezvous that was reminiscent of his wanton former existence, the music professor was anything but a callous Casanova in his behavior toward her.
So when Harold wrapped his arms around her waist and noted her solemn expression with concern, Marian smiled with genuine ease and reassured her husband that the only things troubling her were her unruly tresses and skirts. Because even with the aid of a handheld mirror and brush, her toilette was still proving more challenging than she had bargained for. The librarian found it both amusing and aggravating that Harold was already fully dressed; while he hadn't had too much trouble making himself look presentable, she had only just managed to put on her drawers, and was going to have to remove her gown entirely in order to get back into her corset! Fortunately, with her husband's nimble hands – and, of course, his experience in helping her dress during her pregnancy – she was soon as properly clothed as he was.
However, while the bodice of her gown was now returned to its former pristine state, the skirts were hopelessly wrinkled. Marian was slightly comforted by the fact that they were not grass-stained. And by luck or by grace, her neck was not marred by the love-bites she'd received earlier, so she had no need to hide it from view; she could wear her shawl draped low on her arms, thereby concealing the majority of her disheveled skirts. And the librarian was further reassured to observe that upon closer examination, Harold also bore slight but telltale signs of their heated afternoon together: his dress shirt was missing a button, his collar was creased beneath his impeccable bowtie, and his chestnut waves continued to spill messily over his forehead even after he'd applied his comb and crammed as many of them as he could under his straw boater.
This reminded Marian that she still had to do something about her own flyaway curls, which were presently as unruly as Jane Edna Peabody's once were. She briefly considered repurposing her blue sash as a hair ribbon, but as she was in her late twenties and a married mother of twins, she was not young or maidenly enough to carry this style off without attracting unwanted curiosity. And despite Harold's careful planning, he apparently had not counted on her losing so many hairpins during their tryst, as he had not included any in the tuba case.
"My apologies for not packing extra hairpins, darling," Harold said with a rueful grin as he helped her scour the blanket for scattered pins, "but these days, my first instinct is to give those slippery little gewgaws a wide berth!"
Marian laughed. "Well, at least none of the ladies will ever see any incriminating evidence of our personal affairs, all the way out here!"
Which was a good thing, too, because she was not about to scour the grasses for errant hairpins, even if it turned out the majority of them had fallen on naked ground. The librarian's fastidious sense of hygiene overruled her inclination to avoid frivolous waste; she was not about to risk a scalp infestation, even for the sake of propriety! Fortunately, they were able to retrieve enough hairpins from the blanket for her to construct a passable chignon. And as a finishing touch, she donned her broad-brimmed hat and strategically tilted it over her tresses to conceal the most glaring imperfections in her updo.
"What do you think?" Marian asked, modeling her completed ensemble a bit nervously.
Harold leaned in and gently kissed her lips. "You look immaculate, Mrs. Hill… so what say we head home now?"
Marian smiled at her husband's shameless flattery. While they may have looked presentable enough upon first glance, any River City-ziens they met en route to the charming Victorian would surely surmise from the incongruity of their tuba case, state of dishabille and ruddier-than-usual complexions that the music professor and the librarian were most certainly not sedately ensconced in the music emporium for the past several hours… which gave her an idea.
"The emporium is a good deal closer than home – perhaps we ought to stop there to wash up a bit?" she suggested.
Harold immediately shook his head. "I considered that possibility, but in the end, I think it'd be riskier; we'd have to go up Center Street, where we'd be guaranteed to meet at least one person we couldn't easily elude. I promised your mother we'd come over around six o'clock to fetch the girls and to stay for supper; I don't want anyone else cutting into our afternoon together if I can help it! Anyhow, until we've gotten properly cleaned up neat and trim as you please, it's much better to keep to the back roads." He grinned. "And if you stick with me, Madam Librarian, I'll make sure that you at the very least get home with your reputation intact – even if it means I have to sacrifice a little of my own dignity to do so."
While Harold was not the plain, modest and quiet man the librarian once envisioned for herself, his gallantry and devotion more than made him the white knight she had always dreamed of marrying. With no further qualms or objections, Marian beamed at her husband and offered him her hand, her heart quickening with excitement and anticipation as they hastened home to partake in many more afternoon delights.
XXX
A/N – For anyone who's curious, the "ladies don't roll around on the ground" remark Harold teased Marian about in the faraway field stems from a scenario that originally took place in Tmyres77's delightful fic, "Chocolate Kisses" – a definite must-read for anyone who loves Harold/Marian flirty shenanigans and courtship canoodling! And I haven't forgotten about Miss Peabody's happy ending – hers is coming up in the next and final chapter!