Chapter 8: The sweetest dreams

"He is nothing like I expected him to be."

Charlotte was walking arm in arm with Alison, watching Sidney on the road ahead, accompanied by Mr. Heywood and their brother Matthew. Even if the girls could not hear what the men were talking about from this distance, they appeared to be engaged in lively, amiable conversation.

"I'm not sure he is what I expected him to be either but I'm curious to know, what did you expect?" Charlotte asked her sister.

"When you wrote me that you had seen yourself forced to marry a man who had offered to save you from ruin and seemed to have good intentions, but who you still resented having to marry, I pictured someone quite different. An aged or ugly man who could not find himself a wife, or someone decent but penniless."

She paused her step and looked seriously at Charlotte.

"Char, most women would give their right hand to marry someone like your Mr. Parker."

Charlotte observed his tall, broad-shouldered figure, enhanced by the supremely well-cut clothes and the elegant top hat looking fashionably out of place her among the fields and trenches and found it hard to take in that she was married to that man.

"He is not my Mr. Parker", she objected even if it strangely warmed her insides when Alison called him that.

"Are you not Mrs. Parker?"

"Yes, I am but…"

"Then he is yours more than anyone else's. Just look at him! He is very pleasing to the eye and hehas a fortune. He is well-educated and sophisticated, he is clearly striving to get papa's approval and last but not least, he seems to adore you. What is there not to like? Is there something seriously wrong with him which I am yet to discover? If not, I don't understand why you are so opposed to being married to him."

Charlotte knew she was blushing. Alison was asking her something which had been on her own mind since they arrived here. Perhaps even before, but it was reinforced when he seemed to fit in so well with her family despite that his appearance stood in stark contrast to the surroundings. He got along with them brilliantly and seemed to enjoy being here. She had not expected that.

"I do not hate it, like I did first", she admitted thoughtfully. "But it all came to be for such strange reasons, meeting like we did, him taking pity on me and then getting married without any affections towards one another at all. You know I was determined that nothing but love would ever persuade me to accept a proposal and he did not want me as his wife really. He did not want any wife at all but married me out of the kindness of his heart. First I feared that he had ulterior motives and perhaps would turn out to be a brute behind closed doors, but I don't think so anymore. I think he is genuinely good. You are gravely mistaken though, he does not adore me. He tolerates my company but does not have romantic feelings for me. What you see is just an act to convince mama and papa."

"Then he is very good at acting."

"I suppose he is."

"So, is he not kind to you when you are alone?"

"Oh, yes, very, but he does not care for me. He has said so himself."

"To you?"

"To me and to his friend, Lord Babington, when I happened to overhear a conversation. Sidney does not mind being married to me, but it does not mean anything to him. He simply does not care."

"I still doubt it. And what are your sentiments Charlotte, if you are truthful? Have they not changed since you first met?"

If she was to be honest, she was confused. The kindness and generosity he constantly showed her without expecting anything in return had made her slowly warm to him. With the exception for when she had walked off alone in London and got lost, he seemed to have no wish to restrain or change her. On the contrary he encouraged sides of her that even her family found peculiar, like her imaginary travels. He always listened attentively and remembered what she said. Without hesitation he had agreed to join her to Willingden, only asked for a few days to arrange some business matters and then declared himself to be at her disposal. He was very amiable to her family and willingly put up with the lover's charade to make her parents believe the history and did it so well that even Alison, who knew the truth, thought it genuine.

Of course, Charlotte had noticed the little discreet touches he now added and the altered expression when he looked at her. In her family's presence, he acted like he could not take his eyes off from her and was longing desperately to be alone with her. She was not sure how his eyes so convincingly were able to convey emotions which she knew he did not feel, but they did. It created a flutter in her stomach, and she hoped this helped her to pretend as skilfully as him. Staring into his intensely brown eyes for long when he had that special look was indeed so disconcerting that she thought it might result in her resembling a woman in love, even if she simply was befuddled.

As if all this was not enough, there had been the incident yesterday, when he crashed the water can. The memory made her feel heated inside again, like she had then. She had never seen a man without clothes in real life before and it had been quite impossible to look away.

A long time ago she and Alison had discovered a book in their father's library which contained illustrations of ancient Greek and Roman statues. It had rapidly become one of their favourites and in secret they curiously had scrutinised the pictures many times, focusing on the male anatomy. Of course they had known it was not appropriate for young ladies to look at but reasoned that one must have some knowledge before one's wedding night if there ever was one. They had always thought those male bodies were exaggerated in their sharp perfection and giggling compared them with the less flattering clothed forms of some of the men in the village. Now she knew there were indeed living men who looked like that. Her own husband looked very much like that. At least the upper body, thankfully he had had his breeches on, or she would have been even more mortified.

Her own reaction had surprised her. Even if she was utterly embarrassed she had not wished to look away. What she had wanted was to walk over to him and touch him, to know what that chiselled body felt like, certain it would not feel cold like marble underneath her palms. His male form was so different from hers, intimidating and alluring. The strength that was evident from the contours of the muscles under his skin could be applied for hard manual labour or violent acts, but also for protection. How would it be to be held by someone like him?

It did not matter because she would never know.

She had noticed that he seemed almost as awkward as her. Not uncomfortable in his body, but not liking to show it to her. Once again he demonstrated clearly that this was not the kind of situations he wanted to be in with her or what he expected from their matrimony. That confirmation did not make her as relieved as one could have expected.

She returned her attention to Alison who still was waiting for her answer.

"I do not know, Alison. Being around him confuses me. I have never known anyone like him."

"But how… how is your arrangement? Do you share bed chamber?"

"No, not in London, only when we are here."

"So, it was your first night sharing bed? How was it?"

Alison's eyes were so wide with curiosity that Charlotte had to laugh, but inside her there was a small grain of sadness.

"Nothing happened, he is behaving like a true gentleman to me and I don't even think he finds it difficult because he does not… like I said, he does not care for me that way."

She had been nervous when Sidney and papa disappeared after dinner, knowing that this was the final pressure test to their story. Her father was an intelligent man who loved her dearly and if he had been given the choice he would never had let her marry any man he did not think worthy of her. She knew it must hurt him to believe she had eloped, but that was better than the grief it would cause him if he knew he had sent her off to a brothel which she just barely had escaped.

When they returned, she could see that papa had relaxed and there was a happier gleam in his eyes. It was obvious that whatever Sidney had said, he had been able to convince him and ease his mind. In that moment a strong feeling of fondness welled up inside her. How lucky she had been that her sham marriage was with such a good and clever man.

He came over to sit next to her on the chaise longue, as close to her as was acceptable for a married couple and she did not inch away, keen to keep up her part of the act.

"How did it go?" she said lowly.

"Just fine, my dear", he answered casually and took her hands.

"What are you doing?" she hissed but could not deny that she enjoyed the touch.

"Showing your family how intimate we are, that we are so used to gestures like this that we forget ourselves in their presence."

Even when he confirmed it was for show, the word 'dear' coming from his lips and his hands enveloping hers, stirred something inside her. He leaned closer to speak next to her ear, like lovers would and she could feel a reverberating sensation on her skin as he spoke, causing it to prickle.

"I think your father has accepted me as your husband. I would not go as far as saying he has completely forgiven me for eloping with you, but it seems he thinks we are well suited for one another."

"Why?" she inquired, wide-eyed.

He smirked fondly.

"Because we are, of course."

She knew it was said in jest, of course she knew, but it still added to the strange tension building up inside her. She no longer knew for sure if she dreaded or was longing to share bed that night.

Her nervousness had increased when the first of her sisters announced that they were retreating for the night. Sidney had turned to her and said that if she wanted to go and prepare herself for bed he did not mind staying up with her father and brothers for a while. She understood that he tried to spare them both from the same awkwardness they had experienced earlier and nodded in agreement.

She prepared herself hastily as she did not know how much time she had before he came. Usually she slept dressed solely in nightgown, but the thin fabric would reveal more than she was comfortable with, so she only removed her stays, kept the chemise and drawers on and put the nightgown on top. She removed all hair pins and swiftly brushed her hair, only glancing briefly at herself in the mirror, thus barely noticing her own blushing cheeks and radiant eyes before she jumped into bed and pulled the quilt all the way up to her chin. Then she lay there, waiting tensely for him to come. It took quite a while before he did, but she was still completely alert and wondering if she would be able to sleep at all this night, knowing he was in the same room. Also wondering if, perhaps he would touch her after all.

He knocked on the door and opened cautiously.

"Can I come in? Are you ready?"

"Yes."

He glanced over at her and his expression turned amused.

"Is it something about me which you find entertaining?"

"I'm sorry, no… or yes, just the way you are positively buried under the quilt.

"I'm glad that one of us finds this situation diverting."

Her voice trembled from being equally anxious and offended.

"Come, Charlotte, I did not intend to make fun of you", he said softly. "This is difficult and awkward and perhaps it will be a bit easier if we can laugh at it together?"

It would be, if she had not been so incredibly nervous.

He started taking off his coat, waistcoat and cravat and she turned away her gaze, but he stopped there, leaving shirt and breeches on.

"Charlotte, please look at me. I will not undress more than this. I'm not dangerous. I have told you time and time again I will never force you to do anything and I… I don't think of you in that way."

Now it was his turn to look away, to stare down at his feet. He looked vulnerable like that and she realised in this moment that he actually found her distrust hurtful. In truth he had done nothing to indicate he was unreliable. On the contrary he had done everything possible to earn her trust and deserved it.

"I believe you", she said and heard him exhale softly.

She felt the mattress dip from his weight as he sat down on his side, so near her now.

"We can put some pillows between us, so we do not accidentally move close when we sleep", he suggested.

"I think I would like that."

With a protective barrier against him, she might feel less out of sorts than she did right now. She could not even put her finger on exactly what kind of emotion this was. A sort of restless, fizzing feeling throughout her body and her heart was beating out of her chest.

After he had arranged the pillows, blown out the candles, snuck under the quilt without so much as brushing against her and swiftly turned his back to her, she had been lying awake for long, staring into the darkness until she heard from his heavy breathing that he was asleep. Then she had fallen asleep too.

Alison's persistent curiosity brought her back to the present.

"So, you say he is a gentleman who does not care for you in that way, but do you? Do you care for him that way?"

"No…"

Why must Alison keep interrogating her like it was The Inquisition? There were some things she would not tell even her dear sister.

She had dreamt of him. Dreamt that she had woken up and found him sleeping next to her without his shirt on. The quilt had slid down and he had been lying on his stomach, exposing the back she only had seen a brief glimpse of when he turned and reached for a shirt earlier in the day. Her husband's manners may have ceased to be intimidating to her, but his body still was. Less so now when he was asleep and in the dream she had again been tempted to touch him and boldly reached out her hand. While he remained sound asleep, she had let her fingertips explore him, drawing patterns over the muscular planes of his back. Her palms had slid over the broad shoulders and she had gently twined the curls at the nape of his neck between her fingers and caressed him there. His skin had been warm and soft, his body hard and strong and in the dream she could not get enough of touching him. He kept on sleeping and he still did when she woke up to find him fully clothed beside her, the pillows between them untouched.

When morning light came, the nightly dreams vanished but she could not quite shake the feeling off. Even now she was not sure what to make of the dream. If she wanted to touch him in her sleep, did it mean she would like to do those things to him for real? The thought of him doing the same to her did strange things to her insides. Was this what husbands and wives did to each other in a real marriage?

As Charlotte had not been engaged to be married before she left Willingden, her mother had never spoken to her about what happened when married couples shared bed. Now, she assumed there was no reason to have such a conversation, as she thought that her daughter, now a married woman, already had discovered for herself. Charlotte could not ask without revealing their secret. She knew that what happened in bed was something intimate which bonded a married couple, things which one did not want to do with any other man than one's husband. Suddenly she wished she knew what it was.

"If you really don't care for him like that, how come you are blushing?"

Her annoying little sister scrutinized her with narrowed eyes and once again brought her back to reality.

"All this talk about sharing bedchambers makes me embarrassed."

"So, you are telling me there are absolutely no affections between you two?"

"No, we are more like casual acquaintances."

"I still maintain that the way you look at each other could have me fooled and I am your own sister."

The men had paused in front of them to allow them to catch up, so to Charlotte's relief they had to interrupt the conversation.

She could not help it, but she liked it when he smiled so warmly at her and held out his arm for her to take as they continued the stroll together. She could get used to walking beside him like this, like they belonged together.

"Mr. Parker has told me he too owns an estate in the countryside", her father said.

"Do you?" she looked up at Sidney in surprise.

"Yes, perhaps I haven't told you. I don't spend much time there but bought it as investment sometime after I returned from Antigua. It borders to Lord Babington's estate and when the previous owner died without heirs Babington suggested I'd buy it, so I did. I suppose we should go visit it sometime."

Somehow it bothered her that her father and brother had found this out before she did. It reminded her there were still so many things she did not know about her husband; what he did, what he liked, what his thoughts on different matters were. It made her feel estranged to him anew and she wondered if he wanted her to learn more things about him or not. She wanted to know.

"I would like that."

"We could go when Babington goes so we have some people to socialize with, to make it more entertaining."

She nodded and smiled back at him, but inside she knew she wished for something different. She did want to know more about him, that need grew rapidly inside her. Part of that was naturally to become acquainted with his friends and family, but for the first time felt she would not mind going somewhere where it would be just the two of them and spend more time alone together. Perhaps because it has been somewhat exhausting to have her family's eyes on them.

She would not dare to tell him though. He would only think her a silly girl demanding things he had no wish to give.

They stayed in Willingden a few days longer and to her dismay, Charlotte felt her admiration for her husband grow further when he continued to engage with her family with natural ease and won them all over. It became clear that he had papa's approval, when Mr. Heywood pulled her aside and said that even if he wished he had been consulted before the marriage, it was a decent man she had found herself and he could see that their feelings were true and deep. When she had a moment alone with mama, she gifted her a nightgown of the finest thin muslin, which she skilfully had embroidered with white roses along the neckline and hem.

"This was always meant to be a gift for your wedding night. I hope your husband will like it, my dearest girl", she said with a fond smile. "I can hardly believe you are a grown woman and mistress of your own house now."

The gift had made Charlotte both happy and tearful. She did not belong in this house anymore, she belonged in her own home with Sidney, but he would likely never see her wearing the lovely nightgown. She had a husband, and she had not. There would not be a true wedding night. For the first time that realisation made her a bit sad.

"Oh mama, thank you."

Her mother came over and stroke gently over her cheek.

"He is so different from all the boys around here. Now I see why you never fell in love with any of them. When I see you with him it seems so clear to me you needed someone like him to find your match. I am so very happy for you Charlotte."

"Thank you", she mumbled again, choked by her mother's words. How she hated lying to those who only wished her well and the praise of her fake husband and their love made her so ashamed.

It seemed like everyone competed to be the one showing Sidney everything around the estate and converse with him during the meals or, in the case of the younger children, get him to play with them. He went along with everything they suggested as long as she also took part of it. With delighted wonder she saw him happily kneel down on the floor to play with the little ones, or cross over muddy fields ignoring the smudge on his shiny boots to let papa proudly demonstrate the modernised mill.

Their own game of discreet touches, which were supposed to appear secret though actually were intended to be noticed, became more advanced. His hand on her waist, hers on his arm, his brushing her hip, hers softly placed on his shoulder, the way he bent his head down when he spoke to her so it only would take the smallest movement for their lips to touch, how he spontaneously had framed her between his arms against a tree during one of the outdoor games with the children, making them both freeze before they abruptly moved apart. It was fun and innocent, but it was also something else. For every time, she wished for the moment to last longer and something inside her burned brighter.

They never touched when they were alone though. At night they slept stiffly beside one another without the slightest body contact. She wished they could have talked and laughed together lying there, but she was too apprehensive and shy to start conversation and he simply said good night and rolled over to sleep with his back turned to her. How easy it had been to speak her mind when she did not care what he thought, and how difficult it was now when she was afraid to let him know what she was thinking. The more affectionate they played when her family was near, the more withdrawn she became in private so he would not understand how much she was beginning to appreciate the intimacy. They slept further apart for every night spent in the same bed, but every night she dreamed of him.

He always remained asleep in her dreams while she undiscovered explored him. In the second night's dream he was lying on his back and she caressed his torso, let her finger run over the stomach, revelling in the unevenness of the hard muscles and the softness of the trail of downy dark hairs, before she fell asleep with her head on his chest. The third night she explored the same parts of him but now with her lips, softly brushing him, tasting his skin. The fourth and last night in Willingden, she dreamt she touched his face. Dared to feel the roughness of his stubble, caress his full soft lips and finally let her own lips graze them before she fell asleep with her face buried at the nook of his neck. She woke up on her side of the bed as usual, with him in the same distant position as when he fell asleep. It was only in her sleep she was that bold. Awake she still remained uncertain as to her own wishes and feelings and certain he would not welcome any advances from her.

The visit ended sooner than she had wished, because Sidney needed to attend to his business in London and the entire family waved them off, glad to see Charlotte so happily married.

"Are you pleased with the visit?" Sidney asked her from the opposite seat when the carriage left Willingden behind.

"I am", she smiled. "I miss them already but I'm very pleased with the stay. Thank you for taking me."

"It was my pleasure. So did I play my part as your devoted husband to your satisfaction?"

He asked in earnest, as if there was a possibility she might be displeased with his behaviour. Only a simpleton could have found his behaviour in the last days inadequate.

"Very much so, thank you. I think my parents approved of you. I always thought you might be able to charm mama, but I'm impressed you managed papa too. He told me he was so relieved to see that I had married someone who… who had the good sense to appreciate me." Her cheeks felt hot, but she hoped they did not look it. "Perhaps he was in an especially good mood because the financial trouble has been solved. He wouldn't tell me exactly how but when I asked how they were managing now, he said they have been able to pay off Matthew's debts. I must admit I am quite relieved they did not have to resort to accepting help from you."

"Would that have been so bad if I had given it willingly?"

"You have given me enough already", she looked down and twirled her wedding ring, but thinking more of the fact that he had allowed her to invade his life than of the jewellery itself.

"You must be relieved to return to London now? So we don't have to keep up the pretence anymore, showing affection in front of your family and sharing room?"

His piercing eyes were locked with hers now and she felt quite unsettled.

"Yes… Yes, of course it will be a relief not being under their caring but watchful eyes all the time. Not be forced to lie, not having to pretend."

There was a tick in the little muscle at his jaw before he gave her a tight smile and averted his gaze.

"My sentiments exactly."

She had been lying to her parents, but she was lying now too and could only pray she did it convincingly enough, so her bewildered feelings did not shine through. Surely it would only provoke his disapproval and make their common life more awkward if he understood what her feelings really were.

The truth was she would miss him touching her every now and then, she would miss having him sleeping in the bed beside her and it grieved her she would never touch him like she did in her dreams.

A/N: Aaaah, sorry everyone. I know you were looking forward to their night together and this was perhaps not what you hoped for, but it was not my plan that it would result in any salacious activities (yet). In my mind, both need to fully admit having feelings for each before it would be the right timing for them to consummate the marriage. Right now, he is ready, but she is not. He knows that and also thinks she never will be, so he does not dare to make a move. If it ever will happen? Well, stay tuned as they use to say.

Love you guys for the amazing feedback to this story, you have completely floored me.

And if you wait for 'Sanditon revisited', sorry I was being egoistic continuing this first because it is my happy-place when it comes to these two.