The sun had gone down. The preacher had gone home. Alleghany was in his bedroom-their bedroom-he mentally corrected himself, but he stood just outside the door, working up his courage to go in.
She was just a slip of a woman, but she scared him something fierce. She was more beautiful than he had expected and more agreeable. A plainer, duller woman would have been less intimidating.
Still, she was his wife now. He took a deep breath of air that went out in a whoosh when he opened the door and saw her laying down in a silken, lacy nightgown with a deep v-neck that hinted what lay in store for him. The gown was a delightful peach color that flattered her skin tone and her ruby lipstick-covered lips. She was more than beautiful; she was gorgeous.
He was torn between running out the door again and running towards her. He knew though which desire would end up winning. He considered himself lucky that she was his to keep.
sss
Jackson was staring at her with lust. It wasn't love as they didn't even know each other. She didn't return the lustful feeling, not even a little bit.
It wasn't that he was so unattractive. It was more the thought that she had no choice in the matter. And she went for men who were a bit more cultured, who could afford to show her a good time even though times were tough.
This man could afford to keep her fed and sheltered and little else. There'd be no presents of jewelry or nights on the town. He didn't look as if he'd enjoy a night on the town anyway.
Yet, it was her wifely duty to sleep with him and she accepted that. It was her hand that had signed the marriage certificate after all.
She was suddenly reminded of a novel she'd read where the mother had advised her daughter to lay back and think of England during the act. Her England was the bustling city of Bristol. It was worth a try anyway. Thinking about anything other than the man she'd married had to be better.
She cocked her head in puzzlement when he remained where he was, which seemed to spur him into action. He cut out the oil lamp, plunging the room into total darkness.
Her lips curved slightly up in humor. Was he afraid to look at what lay under her nightgown? Or was it possible she wasn't what he'd been expecting and he was dreading this just as much as she was.
The bed creaked as he took his place beside her and his large, calloused hands fumbled as they pulled the gown over her head without any foreplay at all.
He had managed to undress himself at some point after the light had been extinguished for bare skin rubbed against bare skin.
He struggled to find her mouth in the dark and when he did, he bumped his nose against hers as he turned his head to kiss her. His lips were completely closed during the 5 second pucker. No creativity and no passion. She might as well be receiving a kiss from her grandfather. It didn't give much promise for the rest of the night.
She tried to imagine that she was back at home in her bedroom with a more satisfying man, but he made it difficult. He was even more clumsy and awkward as he positioned himself on top of her. He'd obviously never lain with a woman before, a fact she found somewhat amusing and definitely sad.
She could have made it easier on him by being more open and guiding him to the right places, but she didn't. She let him flounder and grope as he tried to figure things out. Fortunately, he didn't try kissing her again.
He spoke not a word to her the whole time it was happening and she remained silent as well. Which made it all the more uncomfortable. He didn't give up though until he had it and experienced success on his end.
When he had finished, she rolled out from under him and turned away to face the wall. She had never felt so used. She longed for a bath. She longed to be anywhere but here.