Warning: Naughty content ahead! :) Imeanwhat?
Chapter Eighteen
Colonel Brandon answered her kiss with a gruff response that took Marianne by surprise. Although he was visibly and certainly affected by her voluntary show of affection, he broke it off in order to assess her full intentions. Her expression was eager; her cheeks flushed a rosy hue, her eyes lively, and perhaps, if he was not misjudging her, there was even a sign of lust in their warm depths.
"Do you mean to soothe my losses in the breaking of our agreement?" His eyes narrowed hungrily, "I feel some compensation is certainly due since I am forced to yield."
A strange and wonderful thrill coursed through Marianne as her husband's breath lingered on her lips. He may have broken their kiss, but he seemed perfectly able to converse in such close proximity that it drove her to frustration not to continue. "Do you mean..." she swallowed slightly, "Shall we... that is to say," she stumbled over her words, not at all assured of how she might go about clarifying the act she wished to experience with her husband without sounding crass. "The woman did say it was safe."
"I only meant that instead of confinement, you should spend your evenings with me, rather than with Elinor in the drawing room, guests or no guests. If we are to break tradition, we should be quite thorough with it, do you not agree?"
"I do," she murmured, "And I believe I can think of something even more scandalous to spend our evenings doing, rather than carrying on polite conversation and then slipping into separate beds." Her hand slipped down to the gap in his nightshirt and her eyes trailed down the same path.
"Marianne," he shuddered as a new sensation coursed over him through her touch, "that is not what I meant. We cannot..."
"On whose authority do you claim that we cannot join properly as man and wife?" she complained. "Is it not only desirable but scriptural? Do not make me call on Edward for his pastoral sanction." Marianne raised an eyebrow in challenge. "Or am I wrong to suggest consummation is mutually desirable in this case? Am I much too plump now to be pleasing to you?"
Colonel Brandon's scoff which came from deep in his chest sounded almost like a growl. "You know nothing could be further from the truth."
"How could I know that when my husband refuses to lie with me?"
The Colonel carefully took stock of his wife's playful pout, the fingers that still toyed with the opening at his shirt, and found it very difficult to still ask, "Will you not be frightened? Or uncomfortable?" He lowered his eyes to the slight but still visible lump beneath her shift. "I cannot... lie with you as is customary because of your condition. What if I harm the babe?"
Marianne toyed with the bottom of her lip, catching it between her teeth as she thought how to form her suggestion. "If it is not entirely reprehensible to you, I had thought to join with you in a way that would be more comfortable for me, though far less customary as I understand."
"I am almost afraid to ask," he said playfully, eyes narrowed in suspicion.
Marianne gave a short, impatient laugh. "It merely requires a reversal of positioning. If you promise not to be very scandalised that I know such a practice exists, and do not ask me from whom I learned such a thing, I will be very glad to show you."
Not allowing him the time to object any further, Marianne pushed against her husband's chest to indicate she wished for him to give her the space to sit up. As he sat further back, and she moved forward, she began to kiss him quite liberally, and without any pretence of restraint. Her hands were not idle, either, as they smoothed over his temple and found purchase in his hair. She smiled to herself in thinking of how very foolish she had been to ever consider him aged. Though the lines of care and loss were etched firmly in his face, the arms that caught hold of her were strong and muscular; his hair full and tawny, not yet brushed by the silver of those who might truly claim old age.
The Colonel himself was so caught up by her continuous ministrations that he hardly noticed when she pushed him to a reclining position against the pillows and situated herself comfortably on top of him.
Rather than be bothered by such a forward gesture, he found the weight of her quite pleasing, especially as she ever so slowly and torturously slid her hips further down his torso, continuing her trail of kisses on his face and neck all the while.
Colonel Brandon suffered a fleeting lapse of worry that there might be something strange or unholy in their current situation, but being that his lovely wife was not only claiming to be comfortable this way, but also by the telling sighs and flushed cheeks between her proffered kisses, enjoying the interlude as deeply he was, the worry was quick in passing. He gave up the fight altogether when she took his hands to guide them under the folds of her shift and over the gooseflesh of her thighs which were more and more exposed as the garment insisted on hiking further up her legs with every downward motion. He would certainly not complain. She was as soft and warm as he had imagined, striving not to think of what it must be like to run his hands upon such intimate places whenever she slept beside him and the covers were thrown off during the course of a warmer evening. Now she was quite awake with no covers whatever to impede his explorations while she offered her body for him to touch as he pleased and all temptation could be readily acted upon.
It seemed impossible, but Marianne gave him even greater agony as she slid yet further down, leaving only the length of his nightshirt and a few more inches for them to truly join.
It was not instantaneous; not hurried, nor frenzied, but after some moments of her repeated explorations, when she had discovered the delightful reaction she produced by skimming her hands over his chest beneath the folds of his nightshirt, and found her own pleasure to increase by the evidences of his, the urge for them to join grew more dire, and he pressed her firmly, one hand on either side of her hips to indicate he wished for her to complete the downward path she had begun.
When at last she did, when she enveloped him and welcomed him fully, he could not restrain himself from keeping a watchful eye on how she moved over his body. At first, he watched from the lingering fear that some foul memory would suddenly take hold of her and ruin their intimacy. However, as the moments passed and it was clear Marianne had banished all coherent thought in favour of enhancing the pleasure she derived from her increasingly forceful motions, he too put aside needless worry and watched her solely for his own pleasure. For he did consider it wonderful to be taken by such a woman, and in such a way; never would he have imagined so willing a wife in marital congress, and certainly not the object of his long-held affections not only accepting, but insisting upon their union.
She was loveliness itself; curls so like his in colour rapidly loosening from their braided confinement to fall unheeded over her forehead and brushing against her cheek, beaded with the perspiration of her exertions. Though her shift had slipped off to one side so that much of her shoulder and part of her breast was tantalisingly revealed, Colonel Brandon was of the opinion that it was not revealing enough, and acting upon pure desire, he loosened the laces as hastily as he could and pulled the shift down so that both her breasts were exposed in the faint light provided by the bedside candle.
Marianne shivered, and he immediately felt sorry, imagining her to be shivering from the cold air she was forcibly exposed to. However, she smiled down at him and cheekily suggested he might try his hand at warming them.
"Ah!" she cautioned, as he hastened to do so, "but gently, my love, as they have been somewhat sensitive of late."
Taking his commission most seriously, he did his utmost to both provide warmth, and yet not pain his wife in the meantime. Soon, he had struck up a most pleasant approach that satisfied both desires, and he forewent any further thought of repentance as both he and his wife revelled in the contact.
The knowledge—nay, the proof that she desired this, desired him, was more than he could bear, and as his own desire overcame him, he adjusted his hold on her, afraid to cling too tightly to part of Marianne for fear he might hurt her in the expenditure of his passion.
When he was sated, he determined that she should experience the same, but Marianne withdrew from him with a merry laugh. "You needn't worry on my account. I have had my share of pleasure tonight."
"Are you certain?" he frowned, disappointed by the return of her shift to its usual place over her shoulders and other, more appealing parts of her anatomy.
"You were not exactly attentive at the time I had..." even now she blushed, and Colonel Brandon did not think she could be any more beautiful than she was in her currently dishevelled and self-conscious state, the wildness of her hair and rumpled nature of her shift lingering evidences of what they had just shared.
Colonel Brandon rose to bring them towels from the basin so that they might wash themselves into a more respectable state before settling back into bed. Out of habit, they both assumed their usual stations, he on one side, she on the other. The Colonel lay there in the silence for a time, blissfully tired and ready to welcome sleep, except for the disappointment he felt over their current arrangement. He wanted to draw her close and hold her to him as he slept, but worried that she might find such a sleeping position distasteful. Perhaps she would rather sleep with the space between them. He doubted that the woman who had just shown such boldness in their relations could possibly be too embarrassed to voluntarily push herself into his embrace, but it was folly to assume anything when it came to the inclinations of his wife.
He lay there in the black silence for a time, the candlelight having been extinguished already and leaving him in darkness to wonder blindly. Several times he nearly turned on his side to prod her and ask if she slept, but could not muster up the courage to do so.
The strange and discontented silence was broken by the faintest of sniffles, and when he stayed very still, he could discern movement from his wife's side as she shook from trying to suppress her crying.
"Marianne?" he spoke softly into the dark and the word seemed only to worsen her distress, for it brought forth the hitherto stifled sobs. She could no longer muffle the cries, or force herself to still the shaking at the sound of his voice. "My dear love," he said, distraught, placing what he hoped was felt as a comforting hand on her shoulder, purposing to touch the part covered by her shift in case direct contact with his flesh was unwanted.
She turned in the bed, but it was not to shake off his hand, or create more distance between them as he feared. Instead, she moved through the blackness to sidle into his embrace, and in such a way that the babe's dwelling space was not impeded.
"I thought you had gone to sleep, just as you were, as we always do," she explained, voice wavering with the effects of her crying. "It was so quiet, and I... I was lonely. I did not want to sleep so very far away from you, after what just passed between us. It seems as though things should be different, now we are truly married, but then it was not, and I..." He had not the time to call her foolish and assure her he felt the same bereavement without her presence in his arms, for she kept on, "And, also... I feel so much in this moment that I do not know if I can sleep tonight. My mind is very cruel to me."
"Then you must tell me how it is so and I will rebuke it," Colonel Brandon promised, gently running his hand over her head as if to show how he meant it.
She shrank into the covers, as if ashamed of what thoughts came to her unbidden. "I cannot help but feel pain in the knowledge that I am... that this was not..." Her voice grew even softer, and the Colonel would have strained to hear her, had he not been perfectly still and silent while she spoke. "It is that I am with child, and the child is not yours, and you did not take for yourself a pure and honest girl to bed properly for the first time."
He let out a long breath, meant to give him time to form the proper response. "Marianne," he said at last, "I chose to take you as my wife, knowing full well the measure of your history. In living with you and knowing you better through these past months, I have only been granted more affirmation of my choice being the greatest furtherance of my happiness. I would rather you and your child than the most spotless innocent. You must know this. You cannot have continued ignorant for so long. If I hesitate to embrace you it is for fear that I care more deeply—that I will always love you more than you could love me, and I do not wish to force myself upon you, no matter how severely I pine for you. I tell myself I must wait. Wait for you to show one more sign, to speak and tell me I may kiss you, may hold you, and then wait for yet another sign that you will not detest me for it after."
"How tragic!" she murmured against him and her trembling voice was tragic, indeed. "How we both have only caused ourselves and each other more suffering by our forced temperance. I have given you every reason to doubt my affections from the beginning of our acquaintance, I know. But they are real, now, dear husband. Do you not believe me?"
"I... perhaps in time will learn to put my doubts aside, but you must be patient with me as I have tried to be with you."
"I shall," she agreed, now sighing more comfortably. "And I shall remember to tell you often that you may kiss me, and hold me, and stroke my hair as you are now, and speak softly very close to my ear, and tell you when you have that I am quite happy for you to have done so."
He hummed contentedly into her hair, sleep threatening to steal over him again, but one niggling question still refusing to let him succumb.
"Are you quite settled, wife?"
Marianne yawned in a way that forced her whole frame to stretch, and by the strength of it, it seemed the night had thoroughly exhausted her.
"Then you should sleep," he insisted, planting yet another kiss on her forehead.
She made no verbal reply, but took his arm to wrap it more securely around her in a position that kept her both close and comforted, and that way, she slept.