A winter's ball...

A couple dozen guests had already arrived and were taking the first sips of their refreshments. There was a general air of merriment that made Isabella smile, thinking back to their wedding reception in the same place. Edward saw the grin and donned one of his own, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.

A few of the guests looked over at them with an indulgent smile, seeing the beautiful couple enter the room with joined hands.

"A drink?" Edward asked, nodding over to where the mulled wine was being served.

Already feeling the effects of the wine and the vodka, Isabella raised a haughty eyebrow. "I think you overestimate my ability to hold my liquor."

Edward grinned, reaching for two glasses. "I do have utmost faith in ye, mo ghràidh."

Isabella took the drink. "If I didn't know better, I would say you prefer me drunk."

She was surprised when Edward frowned.

"No," he said slowly but with honesty. "I like all of ye. Aye, yer lovely with yer rosy cheeks and unguarded tongue after a few drams, but yer equally lovely over morning tea or looking over Sleat's books."

Isabella blinked, speechless.

Putting his arm around her waist and kissing the top of her head, he repeated, "I like all of ye just fine."

Not knowing what to say and not knowing if the display of affection was just for show or if it was something more, she simply took a sip of the warm spiced wine and rested her head on his shoulder.

The rest of the evening felt like a second wedding reception. People were still curious about the two of them and they fell into a welcoming and gracious tone easily enough. As more people filled into the inn, Edward kept his arm around her waist, protecting her from the shuffle and furthering the appearance of happy newlyweds.

At the feeling of his hand rubbing gently up and down the small of her back and her pressing closer into his side as a response, she realized it was not simply just an appearance. In that moment, she was a happy newlywed.

They fell into a pattern where as soon as one guest finished talking to them, another was waiting to pick up the conversation immediately. The attendees mentioned the actual wedding reception ("Yes it was lovely, thank ye for coming!"), they asked about their marriage ("We're quite happy with each other"), they asked about Sleat ("We're making Bella a proper distiller"), and they asked about future children ("Oh! Well! We'll see"), and they asked about the holidays, ("Spending them with the family. What are your plans?").

By the time the music actually started, Isabella breathed a sigh of relief. Esme had made sure their mulled wine glasses stayed full as they were unable to make their way back over to where it was being served.

"Yer like Skye's Princess Diana," Alice had cackled, handing her a glass of cider instead of more of the mulled wine.

Isabella rolled her eyes.

"If that means they like me, I'll take it." And then she thought about it. "Without the untimely death if you could."

"Aye, I'll get the tiara ordered straight away, hold the tragic demise," she replied dryly.

"Aren't people still upset about that?"

Alice cringed. "Esme would cry is she heard ye say her name."

Ah the Brits, she thought to herself endearingly.

"You look lovely," Isabella said, smiling in a pleased way at the blue dress and the way it brought out her eyes.

Alice eyed her sister-in-law. "Thank ye kindly. Yer chebs look tidy," she told her.

Edward chose then to reappear from the loo and offer her a hand to dance. Isabella tossed back the cider and with a wink from Alice, joined her husband on the dance. They stayed off to the side as he tried to remind her the steps for this one before they joined in with the whole group.

"What are chebs?" she asked when he asked if she had any questions about the dance.

Had he been drinking, he surely would have spit it out.

When his eyes immediately flashed to her breasts, Isabella had her answer.

"Does tidy mean good?" she asked, putting her hands on her hips.

"Is Alice teaching ye Scots?" he asked in amusement, eyes dancing.

Isabella simply raised an eyebrow. She was going for sultry but it might have been aggressive.

Confirming that it was indeed sultry, he replaced her hands with his on her hips, bringing her flush against his body as he murmured, "Verra, verra, verra good," he purred.

Isabella laughed and then kissed him, drunk with alcohol and that joyful sensation of being alive.

It was a brief kiss as Isabella was firmly aware they had onlookers. Especially the woman who had asked about their future children – she had been watching them like a hawk. It was Edward though, who broke it off first.

"Esme will kill us if we dinnae have a few dances before we sneak off."

"I'm a bad dancer," she protested, suddenly desperately wanting to sneak off with her handsome husband who some highlander lady thought she should have babies with.

"Well…" he apparently could not think of anything flirtatious to say in response to that and instead went with honestly, "Aye, ye are. But I like that part of ye just fine as well." And then with a kiss on the nose, he whisked her off to join the assembly of dancers.

Jasper, Robert, and Ian all thought she was hilarious when she was drinking, given how calm and put together they usually saw her at Sleat. The fact she could not master basic steps to ceilidh dances only made her all the more amusing. The three of them stayed near her and Edward, swapping out partners and laughing at her half-hearted attempts to remain with the beat.

After the better part of an hour, Edward and Isabella found each other for one of the dances where there was no partner switching. It was sort of like a waltz but she didn't know the exact name. Edward was an excellent leader and she pressed herself close to his warm, strong body, hoping that would suffice.

She was pressed so close that she felt him give a slight nod.

"Who was that to?" she asked, having more tact than to immediately turn and look for herself. Just barely anyway.

Edward leaned down and brushed his lips near her ears. "Sheriff Miller is here with his wife," he said quietly before placing a tender kiss on her temple. She hoped dearly that Miller saw it.

"Did he see that?" she asked, still not turning.

Edward gave her a conspiring grin. "Oh aye."

"Would you describe us as properly besotted?" she asked, feeling light.

"Verra properly," he smirked.

"And if grabbed a bottle of wine and snuck off in the direction of the rooms…?"

"I'd say that'd be awright," he said, leaning back and sharing a smile with her.

With his fingers tightly entwined with hers, he led her away from the crowd of dancers and over to the bar. He confidently reached over and grabbed one of the wines that had not been mulled.

"Going to get a room are ye?" Jasper teased loudly. Enough people heard it and looked over, most of them wearing those same indulgent grins at the couple.

"Yer an ejeet," Edward said, playfully elbowing him in the ribs.

Robert and Ian made some distinctly masculine cheering noises but they were able to slip through the crowds and over to the door labeled "Guest Rooms" easily enough. Both of them were well aware of the fact that they had dozens of sets of eyes on them. Another conspiring grin between them and they made it to their room.

Edward leaned against the door, having closed it and with it most of the noise.

It was just the two of them.

Edward set down the wine on the nearby dressed, placing it by the empty bottle Isabella had finished before the party. He met her eyes. They were still dancing, but there was something more primal in them.

"Come here, mo ghràidh, I'm no done with besotted just yet."

And since she was not done with besotted either, she walked back over to him and let him wrap his arms entirely around her waist, pulling her into his chest. She could feel all of his muscles through their thin cotton layers and his hard-on against her hip. He leaned down and kissed, letting his hand skim the bare part of her back while the other drifted towards her butt. She laced her fingers through his hair, holding onto the nape of his neck as she felt the electric sensation of his hands on her, grabbing her, touching her, moving everywhere with growing franticness.

Edward tore his lips from hers, moving down to kiss the side of her neck. She shivered. "Can I take ye to bed, Bella?" he breathed, kissing her again.

She smiled against his lips, her eyes meeting his.

He undressed her then, peeling off her dress with a slowness that resembled their actual wedding night all of the buttons on the dress. It was only a zipper and a bra clasp but he took great care, as if she was extremely delicate. And then she was standing there naked, having kicked off her heels. The alcohol made her bold enough that she did not move to cover herself.

"Christ, yer gorgeous."

Isabella smiled at the compliment but then went to work stripping his clothes off. There were more buttons on him this time, but neither of them minded her somewhat clumsy attempts to undo them. The undershirt followed the white shirt and for a minute it was her who admired him.

You're gorgeous, she thought to herself. She may have said it out loud.

He grinned at her before he took over to undo his belt and trousers, moving swifter than if she had been in charge.

Edward gathered her to him then, letting his hands sweep up and over all of her naked body, caressing as if it was the finest silk. She started to pull him onto the bed, enjoying the sweet feeling of his hands. She felt like she was on fire, burning from the sensations.

Overcome with a sudden hunger for him, her kisses turned more ravenous as they romped and rolled around in the bed. The tenderness that he had for her, that he always had for her, blended seamlessly with the lust each of them shared. She traced her fingers up and down the length of his cock, encircling it and caressing it to the sound of his moans.

Then they looked at each other, their gazes bravely meeting. For all she knew, her make-up had smudged absolutely everywhere and her hair could be a suitable nest for a bird. Yet he gazed at her with love and desire.

She moved her legs then so that he was between her. His eyes slanted and she gave him a smile, almost shy in nature, accompanied by a nod. She continued to move her hands through his hair as he positioned himself slowly and then pushed into her. She welcomed him in as he pushed inside her, sinking so that his body was on top of hers. Each of them groaned with pleasure, with relief, with joy.

They moved together, alternating between tenderly slow and fiercely fast before they settled somewhere in the middle. His fingers continued to move down where they were connected, being encouraged by the clutching of his hair as she let out frantic sighs. It did not take long before the two of them came together.

They laid there, curled together in post-coital reverie as if they couldn't get closer together. She felt every inch of him against her, which coupled with the sated feeling of sex and the lightness of alcohol made her borderline delirious. His fingers unknowingly traced up and down her rib cage as he breathed deeply, attempting halfheartedly to return his heart beat to normal.

Eventually as the two of them neared sleep, Isabella moved to get off him, but his arm tightened around her.

"Stay with me, Bella."

And she relaxed back into him, wanting nothing more.

well then. what comes next?

thoughts from an american, for anyone who cares: it's still black lives matter. there's still a pandemic disproportionately affecting communities of color. there's still more that unites us than divides us. there's still a need to listen and learn. there's still work to be done.

all the love.