Hassan must have order the lamps to be lighted, a task I usually perform myself. I decided against asking Evelyn to help remove my dress, for the window of her cabin was dark, and I watched to avoid her questions for a while. I therefore had to bend my arms into painful positions worthy of a circus contortionist to undo the pea-sized buttons that ran down the back of my dress. Once I had removed the dress and my other garments, I put on my favorite nightgown. It was one of the one's I had purchased with Evelyn in during our stay in Rome. It was a pretty white garment with roses embroidered around the collar and bottom hem. I sat at my dressing table and looked into the mirror. My heavy hair was falling out of its net and many of my carefully placed combs and pins had been knocked askew. I removed the combs slowly watching as my hair tumbled loose as the candles cast dancing shadows across my face. My lips looked puffy and swollen from Emerson's long, ardent kisses. Hesitantly, I gently prodded them with the tips of my fingers. The touch sent shivers down my spine, and made little bumps rise upon my arms. I picked up my brush and applied it to my hair, Emerson weighting heavily on my thoughts. Half formed impulses and hair brained ideas born of unseemly desire raced circles in my brain. Did I dare to what I was thinking of? What would Emerson think? What would Evelyn, Walter, or any of the men say if they discovered me? I threw down the brush and ran to the door, pausing only to snatch a wrapper from the back of a plush armchair. I flew down the hall to Emerson's door and banged on it, heart pounding, before I had time to reconsider my rash… Well, one can hardly call an impulsive subconscious urge a decision.

The door opened and a hand grasped me and drew me inside. Emerson closed the door behind me. I barely had time to take in the cabin, the large bed, a chair pushed off to the side, and a desk with a mess of papers on top of it before Emerson took hold of me. With muttered "Thank god" he kissed me, with a passion even greater that what he had displayed on the deck. It matched my own to a tee and I responded in kind, clinging as close to him as I could. He was no longer wearing a shirt. I had observed it through over the back of the displaced chair. His skin was warm to the touch and heavily muscled. I could feel the jagged, raised line of a scar running down his side.

Breaking our kiss, but not putting any more space between us, Emerson rasped "Are you sure this is what you want my dearest, my darling Peabody?"

I nodded vigorously, too out of breath to speak, and Emerson scooped me up and deposited me gently upon the bed. He turned to fetch the lamp from the desk. I braced myself on my elbows and watched, mesmerized by the ripple of muscles across his back and shoulders. He came back and set the lantern on a side table. He sat down on the bed next to me and bent his head as if to kiss me again. As willing as I was to pursue this course of action, my internal organs rippled uneasily. I put my hand on his shoulder and sat up.

"Emerson. I must tell you, that is, I do not… I mean-" I stumbled over the sentence, my eyes fixed on my dressing gown covered knees, and a hot flush burning my cheeks.

"Hush, Peabody." Emerson said, taking me into his arms. "It's quite alright if you are unaware…with…of course you are the most lovely… that is to say…" I disentangled myself from his grasp, and placed my hand over his lips. In his turn, Emerson reached out with a tentative hand and caressed the side of my face. He traced the outline of my lips with a touch softer and gentler than a feather. Emerson's hand traced over my eyelid, down across my nose and rested on my neck. I let out a soft gasp as Emerson's hand traveled lower. Emerson covered my mouth with his and laid me back onto the pillows.

A quite a while Emerson and I lay flat on our backs side by side, gasping for breath. As we attempted to regain some of the vital air I was cognizant of three things. The first was glowing warmth that consumed my entire body, from the tips of my toes to crown of my head. The second was a sense of rapidly growing lethargy, and the last was a slight atmosphere of discomfort. For once my quick brain and quicker tongue failed me. I turned my head a fraction of an inch to look up at Emerson, desperate for some indication of his mental musings. Had he not enjoyed himself as much as I had? My heart felt as if it was twisted in a vice. I was in a quandary what to do, until Emerson cleared his throat.

"Amelia?"

"Yes, Emerson."

"That was… That was…"

I waited with bated breath as Emerson struggled with to express his sentiments.

"Absolutely incredible."

All at once my heart felt lighter than air. I was giddy and my spirit soared.

"And you?" Emerson asked, his voice slightly higher than its normal tenor. I consider for a moment trying to find a word that would adequately express all the sensations flooding through my being. Emerson misinterpreted my silence. "I apologize Peabody, I did not mean to-" He mumbled as he crossed his arms over his muscular chest and went ridged.

I lay motionless for a heartbeat, unsure of what to do. I slid closer to Emerson and laid my head on his shoulder. I wound my arms around his forearm. I felt him relax at my touch. His skin, an organ I knew very well by now, was warm and damp.

"It was perfectly splendid. Goodnight, my darling Emerson."

"Sleep well, my dearest Peabody." Emerson said, pressing his lips against the top of my head.

Lulled by Emerson's deep breathing, I sank into the arms of Morpheus.