Previously:
Village Church, Downton Village, England, October 1913
"Forasmuch as Matthew Reginald Crawley and Mary Josephine Crawley have consented together in holy wedlock, and have witnessed the same before God and this company, and thereto have given and pledged their troth, each to the other, and have declared the same by giving and receiving a Ring, and by joining hands; I pronounce that they are Man and Wife, in the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen."
Mary and Matthew rose, turned and walked down the aisle and out of the Church, the sunshine and the cheers of the crowd greeting them. They waved and accepted well wishes as the guests came out of the Church. There were guests to thank and portraits to take, and they moved from one duty to another, their hands joined all the while.
Eventually they took the carriage that had brought Mary to the Church. Matthew held her hand firmly as they travelled the winding road towards Downton Abbey.
"Well, that's done," she grinned. "I'm your wife now. Surely you can tell me where we're going on honeymoon, darling?"
Matthew laughed. "I promise I will tell you everything once we reach London tonight."
He moved towards her and kissed her to confirm his intent.
Chapter 14:
Central Boxing Academy, Manchester, England, November 1911
Matthew turned his body away from his opponent. He stepped back, then to the side, circling around to stay out of range. He moved his head side to side, waiting for an opening. His opponent lowered his left hand slightly. Matthew's eyes went wide and he darted forward, raising his right hand to punch.
Alex's left hand shot out quickly and flew past Matthew's right hand, glancing across his cheek with a sharp sting and pushing him backward.
"Guard!" Alex yelled. "High guard!"
Alex jabbed with his left again and Matthew blocked it with his glove. Before Matthew could adjust, Alex stepped around and connected with his right hand against Matthew's exposed side.
"Cover the body!" Alex snarled.
Matthew stepped back, his frustration rising. He kept his right arm across his stomach and his left hand near his shoulder. He circled Alex again and threw two punches with his right hand, each one missing as Alex ducked to the side.
Alex led with his right hand, the controlled blow touching lightly against Matthew's chin. Matthew leaned back and Alex brought his left hand around and cracked it against Matthew's side.
"Ouf!" Matthew wheezed, bending down as the air shot out of his lungs and his legs wobbled. He staggered slightly, gasping for air.
"Well," Alex smiled, keeping a courteous distance from his weakened foe. "It's a good thing that Lady Mary isn't here to see this pathetic display," he said in a deliberately measured and condescending tone.
Matthew grunted and gathered himself. He breathed deeply through his nose and stepped forward, slapping his gloves together.
"Again!" Matthew hissed, his eyes narrowing.
Alex raised his gloves in front of him. He ducked to the side to avoid Matthew's first blow, then parried the second by turning his body and blocking the punch with his arm. Sweat flew from Matthew's skin as he increased his pace.
Matthew followed with a series of punches, undeterred by Alex's sound defence. His jab met a raised glove. His hook met thin air. His body blows glanced harmlessly off Alex's shoulders and side.
Still Matthew continued, raining shots and punches tirelessly. The smirking taunts of all the toffs that Matthew had seen during Mary's Season appeared before him. The pain of their last farewell pooled in his stomach. The frustration that they were perfect for each other but could never be together made him clench his fists harder and redouble his efforts.
Alex frowned as Matthew's speed increased. Matthew finally connected with a strong left jab to Alex's body. As Alex leaned towards the blow, he was forced to lower his guard slightly and Matthew fired a resounding right hook to his left cheek.
"Time!" the gym attendant called, ringing his bell.
Matthew stopped, panting for breath. Alex straightened his posture and smiled.
"Nicely done, Matthew," he said, patting his friend on the back and directing him towards the ropes.
When they stepped out of the ring and removed their gloves, Matthew felt around his cheek and nose, testing the swelling to see if there would be bruises.
"I pulled my punches, Matthew," Alex said jovially. "An ice pack for an hour will ensure you retain your boyish looks intact."
"I thank you for your kindness," Matthew said sarcastically as they headed to the locker room.
"Think nothing of it. That was an improvement. I think I may have even broke a sweat momentarily at one point halfway through the fourth round."
Matthew laughed and shook his head. "As backhanded a compliment as that is, I'll take it just the same. Whether you agree or not, I'm quite pleased with my progress actually."
"So you should be," Alex agreed. "Are you packed and ready to go? Our train leaves in two hours."
"Yes," Matthew replied. "Although I still don't know why you need me in London."
"Because you need a holiday," Alex said easily. "I've booked you into Brown's for the week."
"Brown's Hotel?" Matthew asked in surprise.
"Yes, Matthew, I believe you're familiar with it?" Alex replied. "You seemed to have a lovely stay there last summer if I recall correctly."
Matthew blushed.
"You're to spend the entire time thinking of and doing anything you wish, so long as none of it involves work," Alex raised his finger in warning.
"I thought you said you needed me for client development?" Matthew frowned.
"Yes, that's right. We'll be meeting with Viscount Branksome while you're in the City."
"Fine. I have some matters to discuss with him actually," Matthew said. He liked Viscount Branksome, even if the older gentleman liked to talk a bit too much about the races. "We'll be meeting at your office?"
"No," Alex smirked. "We're meeting him and some other of my clients at a Winter Season party. That's why I told you to pack your tails."
"A party?" Matthew rolled his eyes. "Alex, those affairs are always so dull."
"You never know, Matthew," Alex smiled. "It may prove to be far more interesting than you can imagine."
Painswick House, Eaton Square, London, England, October 1913
"How is your soup?" Matthew asked nervously.
"It's very nice, thank you," Mary replied. "It's very…hot."
Matthew looked up at her last words and she stared back at him before looking away and taking another spoonful. Matthew swallowed and looked back down.
The dining room was eerily quiet. They had never dined alone here before. Meade was somewhere close by, and Anna was eating with the rest of the staff, but with Aunt Rosamund staying at Downton Abbey with the rest of the family, they had the entire house to themselves.
"What about you, darling?" Mary asked, interrupting his anxious thoughts. "How do you find the soup?"
Matthew caught her eye and noticed a playfulness in her expression. His eyes narrowed daringly.
"It's steaming," he answered, smirking at her. "I'm feeling rather warm and…invigorated."
"Invigorated? From the soup?" Mary questioned.
"Quite," he smirked. "I feel I have the energy for whatever the night may bring."
Mary's eyes widened and she looked back down at her bowl, biting her lower lip as she smiled.
"Meade mentioned to me that we're going to be having roast for the main course," Matthew said idly.
"That should be lovely," Mary replied, her mind swirling. "So long as it's not overdone."
"How do you prefer it?" Matthew asked.
"Not bloody," Mary answered. "Medium, just so the meat is warm and tender."
Matthew swallowed again. He blinked, trying to calm himself. Here he was, barely married for several hours and he could not even maintain a proper conversation with Mary without resorting to teasing and innuendo. He could not help it. In his anxious condition, her every word and glance made him think of…
"I hope you do not think me unladylike, Matthew, but I admit that when properly aroused, my appetite can be shamefully ravenous," Mary noted, setting aside her empty soup bowl.
Matthew glanced up at her, his eyes wide. "Truly?" he croaked.
"Yes, darling," Mary smiled devilishly, taking a sip of wine. "If something is to my taste, I sometimes cannot get enough of it."
Matthew coughed, covering his mouth with his fist.
"Matthew! Are you all right?" Mary asked with genuine concern.
"Yes," Matthew gasped, taking a sip of water and clearing his throat. "I'm fine, darling."
"Good," Mary smiled. "I wouldn't want you to be in poor health."
"Is my physical condition of concern to you, Mary?" Matthew asked, staring at her intently.
Mary swallowed. "I have no reason to be concerned, no," she answered, taking up her wine glass again. "But as your wife, I do want you to be in good health, of course."
"Of course," Matthew agreed. "I feel fine. But then again, I have not tested myself with any strenuous activity in some time."
Mary took a rather large gulp of wine. "Well," she replied. "Perhaps I should watch you closely, so that you do not overexert yourself."
"Have no fear, darling," Matthew smiled, his blue eyes seeming to rake over her. "My body always responds well when called upon. When properly motivated, I find I can exercise for hours."
Mary bit her tongue lightly and looked away. Matthew sipped his wine, his gaze turning more and more lustful as he watched his wife.
"We always seem to have the most delightful conversations when we're left alone," Mary said lightly, meeting his gaze and taking a sip of wine.
Brown's Hotel, Mayfair, London, England, July 1911
"Good afternoon, Mr. Crawley."
"Good afternoon. Any messages for me?" Matthew asked the front desk clerk.
"None, sir," the clerk confirmed, checking the mail slot for his room. "Although your cousin is here. She's waiting for you in your room."
"My cousin?" Matthew asked, frowning.
"Yes, your cousin from Yorkshire? She said she was meeting you for tea and she wanted to freshen up. We let her up to your room as we expected you would not mind."
"No, not at all," Matthew recovered. "My cousin from Yorkshire. Yes, well I'll just go up and see her then, my cousin, that is."
Matthew swallowed hard as he turned away from the front desk and went up to his room. He had to stop himself from running down the hallway as he neared his door. Turning the key nervously, his mind raced. None of his cousins knew he was in London, and none knew he was staying at Brown's Hotel. The only people in fact who knew where he was staying were Alex and…
"Hello, Matthew," Mary smiled as he opened the door.
"Cousin Mary," he smiled, closing the door and crossing the short distance to her. He moved to embrace her but stopped himself, reaching for her hand instead and kissing her glove lightly.
Mary quirked her eyebrow at his behaviour, but nodded to him politely and walked about the suite.
"I thought saying that I was your sister would attract too much suspicion," she explained.
"How ingenious of you," Matthew said calmly. "I wasn't aware I had such a brilliant cousin, let alone one so beautiful."
"And I did not know that I had a cousin who was so gallant and handsome," Mary teased. "But the front desk clerk does not need to know that."
"There are many things that the front desk clerk need not know," Matthew smiled. He swallowed nervously as he dared to hope why she had come to see him. It was her Season after all, and he had just seen her at the Northbrooks with a clearly interested Duke.
"Are you on your way to meet with a potential suitor?" he asked quietly.
Mary turned her head away from the magazines on the coffee table and looked at him thoughtfully.
"Yes, I have a very important appointment in this part of the City," she said airily.
"I see," Matthew swallowed again. Anger and disappointment coiled dangerously in his stomach. "And what time were you scheduled to meet this gentleman?"
"Very shortly, in fact," Mary answered, preoccupying herself with glancing at the ornate ceiling as she wandered from the parlour through to the larger living area.
"Well, I shouldn't keep you," Matthew mumbled as he followed her.
"It would be rude to not meet my admirer, unless of course…" Mary paused, removing her hat and placing it on the chaise lounge.
"Unless of course…" Matthew repeated, looking at her back, the nape of her neck slightly visible below the coiff of her hair.
"Unless you were to keep me here, and forbid me from leaving," Mary said with a smirk, turning her head to catch his eye and removing one long glove from her arm. "Unless you found a way to keep me tied to this place somehow?" She removed the silk scarf from her neck and held it to her side.
Matthew swallowed as he saw the pale skin of her arm and the silk scarf held in her delicate fingers. He stepped towards her.
"I would be running afoul of all manner of conventions if I were to keep you here in this room, Mary," he said, placing his hands around her slender waist.
Mary sighed in pleasure at his touch. "I suppose you'll have to decide if trapping me with you alone in your bedroom is worth the risk, Matthew."
"There is no admirer waiting for you this afternoon, is there Mary?" Matthew hissed, giving in and kissing her neck.
"I'm with him right now, in fact," she smiled. "I told my parents I would be taking tea with my friends for the rest of the day," she breathed, tilting her head and sighing happily as his lips caressed her skin. "Are you still thinking of letting me leave?"
Matthew turned her around to face him. He reached out and took the scarf and glove from her hand.
"No," he snarled.
They both smiled before embracing each other in a firm kiss.
Painswick House, Eaton Square, London, England, October 1913
Matthew sipped his drink as he looked into the fire. The scotch was warm and he hoped it would calm his nerves, which were palpitating almost as quickly as his heart.
Dinner was superb. The meal was just what they needed after their train ride from Downton. Even after the lengthy events of their wedding day, he found himself with renewed energy.
Energy? He breathed deeply. Energy made him think of physical activity. Physical activity made him think of Mary. Thinking of Mary made him think of…
He emptied the glass in one gulp and placed it on the side table.
"Darling?" Mary called. Matthew looked away from the fire as she came into the room.
"I dismissed Meade and the rest of the staff for the evening," she said, her voice not as firm as she wanted. "It's just the two of us, Matthew," she smiled at him, but her stomach was churning.
Matthew breathed out. Mary stood a comfortable distance away from him. She wore a placid smile, but something in her posture was peculiar to him. It was too rigid, too straight, as though she were steeling herself for some approaching doom. Her hands were held together across her stomach, her fingers locked in a clawed grip. She looked like she was standing before an Inquisition rather than her husband.
Matthew smiled. His smile became a grin. If Mary was nervous then surely it was all right if he was as well?
"Come give us a kiss," he whispered, holding out his hand to her and beaming.
Mary smiled demurely. She stepped towards him, then froze. She licked her lips and swallowed to clear her dry throat.
"You know I don't respond well to orders, Matthew," she teased, raising her eyebrow at him.
"Come give us a kiss," he repeated, his eyes darkening and his gaze devouring her. "Please."
She grinned, then crossed the space between them. She leaned down and ran her gloved hand across his face, meeting his lips and kissing him. He covered her hand with his and his lips lingered upon hers. She pulled back and smiled at him.
"You are so beautiful," Matthew whispered, kissing her again. "I can't believe that you're my wife, that you're mine."
"I'm yours," Mary smiled, kissing him again. She then pulled away and smirked at him. "The question though, is what are you prepared to do to keep me?"
She rose and stepped towards the fire, turning her back to him. She looked over her shoulder at him, her raised chin and mischievous eyes daring him to approach.
Matthew swallowed and rose from his chair. He took a deliberate step towards her.
"Certainly I must make every effort to keep you satisfied," Matthew said, his voice almost a growl. He came up behind her and placed his hands on her waist, smiling as he drew a gasp from her.
Mary's hands came down and covered his, pulling him closer against her. "You don't expect me to simply be content now that we are married, do you Matthew?" she asked. "Will you no longer try and flirt with me or win my favour now that the chase is over and the prize has been won?"
"Never, darling," he replied, kissing her bare skin where her neck met her shoulder. Her blue evening gown conveniently did not cover this most sensitive area. Mary smiled at the contact, a low purr escaping her lips.
"Being your husband does not entitle me to everything," Matthew continued as his fingers twined with hers on her waist and he pressed himself ever closer. "I know I must do my utmost to keep your affection." He kissed her neck and Mary's eyes fluttered closed.
"Marriage is a long business, darling," she whispered, her pulse beating madly as Matthew ran his tongue over the beating point below her jaw. "Aren't you afraid that we'll become bored with each other before long?"
Mary gasped as Matthew spun her around and lifted her off her feet and into his arms in one smooth motion. He cradled her against his chest, supporting her with a firm hold across her back and legs. He kissed her hard, and her hands came up to his shoulders, then lightly into his hair.
"Let me show you how boring life with me will be, Mary," he rasped, his eyes blazing from the firelight.
He carried her upstairs swiftly, both of their hearts racing in time with each other as he reached their bedroom and kicked the door closed with his foot.
Downton Abbey, England, October 1913
"This is very good," Matthew smiled, sipping the port. "I hope you didn't open it just for me."
"Of course I did!" Robert beamed. "To welcome you into this House as my son. You don't know how much it pleases me. And, truth be told, this bottle will be yours someday so we may as well enjoy it together, particularly before I have to bring you back into the ballroom so you can entertain your guests."
Matthew smiled. "I think they all know you more than they know me, but I'm truly not bothered. The day has been so perfect, I could put up with anything now."
Robert chuckled. "I'll hold you to that when you return from honeymoon and it's time to judge the Village potato sack races or go over the allocations for the chimney sweeps."
Matthew laughed with him.
"I'm very proud to call you my son, Matthew. I know that my Estate and my daughter are in very good hands and that gives me peace, knowing it will all be taken care of when I'm gone."
"Well, I'm sure there are finer gentlemen for both roles," Matthew blushed. "But, I'm quite glad that both you and Mary appear to be blind to such facts."
The Earl of Grantham took a sip of port and smiled. "Matthew, I don't believe I've ever met as brilliant or as daft a chap as you."
"Robert…"
"No, please, hear an old man out," Robert interjected, raising his hand to silence him. "Besides, I am your father-in-law, and today is your wedding day, so you really don't have a choice in the matter."
Matthew put his glass down and nodded.
"I know the circumstances were not ideal, and that it is very easy to believe that the only use you had to me when you arrived here was your last name and nothing more. I will admit I was desperate to find someone to continue my line that I only did the most cursory of reviews. But I realized something, something rather profound now that you have been with us for some time now. You see, I liked Patrick. I liked him very much. He was smart, charming, and was raised to be a nobleman. He fit, you see. He fit the mould for the role he would play here. His loss was a huge blow to this family."
"Robert, I don't think you should be comparing Patrick with…"
Robert raised his hand again and Matthew stopped.
"What Patrick was not, however, bless his soul, was the right man for Mary. Oh, Cora and I wanted to believe he was, and I think we did for quite some time, even through his death. It was enough for us that he would be James' heir and Mary's future would be secure with him. But now that I see you with my daughter, whatever vision I had of Patrick and Mary seems foolish by comparison," Robert smiled.
Matthew blushed with embarrassment. "Robert please," he began before Robert raised his hand to silence him again.
"You're smart, Matthew. You're a good man. I know you will do right by this Estate and I know I am leaving it not just in capable hands, but worthy hands. I know all of this because I know you love my daughter. That is something I could not say about Patrick, and there is no fault in that. And I have come to understand, only recently, how much that matters. Because I did not consider it before, you see. So you will understand how I find it absolute rubbish when you say there are better men out there, either to be my heir or to be Mary's husband. And you will forgive me if I laugh at the thought that you are somehow beneath Patrick, or Evelyn Napier, or whichever snobbish whelp of a man that you may have caught casting glances at Mary during the Season. No, Matthew. They do not belong in the same room as you. So, I have every confidence that you will be not only a proper Earl someday, but a brilliant one, because I expect your love for Mary will not allow you to be anything less."
Robert took another sip of port, sitting back and smiling, rather pleased with himself. Matthew's mouth was slightly open.
"That was a fine vintage indeed. I'll have to tell Carson to serve it again later this week so we can get closer to finishing the bottle. Well, let's go through, Matthew. Your bride will wonder where I've gone with you."
The two men rose and Robert placed his hand on Matthew's back, smiling as the younger man seemed to struggle to compose himself.
"I trust everything went well with the settlement? Murray mentioned that the funds were transferred as you directed," Robert noted.
"Yes," Matthew replied. "Thank you for all of your assistance, Robert. I appreciate it."
"And you're sure you won't re-invest it with us?" Robert asked casually. "I was just speaking with Alastair Swinton and a number of us are thinking of buying shares in operations over in the New World."
"No, thank you," Matthew said calmly. "You've more of an appetite for that sort of thing than I do, Robert. I'll just squirrel the money away somewhere."
"To each his own, my boy," Robert smiled as they reached the ballroom. "It's your money now. I'm glad it's all over and done with."
"As am I," Matthew smiled as Robert left him and went back to stand next to Cora.
Matthew returned to Mary and sat down with her on the sofa. She gave him a puzzled smile as he straightened his tie and exhaled.
"You were in there for a rather long while," she smiled. "Was Papa giving you an interrogation of some sort?"
"No," Matthew answered, looking at her lovingly. "He seems to think he already has the measure of me as it is."
Painswick House, Eaton Square, London, England, October 1913
Mary smiled as she felt light kisses along her spine. Her eyes, which had been staring into the flickering flames in the hearth, closed as her husband's lips travelled up her bare back and lingered at her shoulder.
"Mmm," she turned her head to look back at him. "Someone's awake."
"I felt you stir, and you weren't resting on me anymore," Matthew said quietly, kissing her neck. "Are you all right?"
"Yes," she sighed happily, feeling his weight settle against her back, keeping her laying on her stomach. "I'm all right, darling."
"What were you thinking of just now?" he asked. "You were looking into the fire, somewhere far away."
Mary smiled. "Do you know that you're the only man who ever asks me what I'm thinking?"
"I hope I'm the only man who ever does a lot of things when it comes to you," he said, tracing his fingers lazily up her back.
Mary giggled, the soft sheets warm against her naked front.
"Do you ever wonder if we were meant to be?" she asked quietly.
"As in fated? Or star-crossed?" he smiled, kissing her shoulder again.
"Something like that," she nodded, resting her head on her arms. "It's just that, meeting at the College, having to part, seeing each other randomly during my Season, then reuniting again in this very House during Winter, saying goodbye for good, then suddenly having this chance through an entail written over a century ago, it's all a series of incredible coincidences don't you think?"
"I prefer to call it serendipitous," Matthew smiled against the nape of her neck.
"Exactly," Mary laughed. "Do you think we would have found each other, regardless of anything else that happened?"
"Perhaps I could have been the lawyer of your future husband and we would have had a torrid affair," Matthew nipped her ear lobe.
"Perhaps I could have gone to Manchester to work as a nurse, and met your mother, who would then introduce us, leaving you completely enthralled," Mary teased.
"Why are you wondering, exactly?" Matthew asked, kissing her back. "We're together now. Finally married. Does it matter if we're fated or not?"
"No," Mary said quietly.
"But?" Matthew smiled against her skin.
"I just wonder, after everything we've been through, all the running around and hiding and secrets, whether we can be normal with each other. Will we be just as happy with the regular and mundane of our lives as we were when every moment was stolen and every touch was cherished as if it was our last? Will it be enough for us that the most exciting thing to look forward to is dinner with the family rather than planning a grand wedding or a trip to London? Saying that we were fated sounds very romantic, but I don't know if it's enough to keep us interested as the days go by."
Mary looked into the fire once again.
"I'm sorry, darling, I'm rambling," she closed her eyes. "After a woman makes love for the first time, her mind turns to all manner of thoughts apparently. You must pay no attention to the things I say."
"Mary," Matthew said softly. He lifted up and turned her gently so she was facing him. He leaned on his elbow, resting his body against hers, keeping his weight off of her.
Mary looked up at him with a timid smile. His hair was delightfully tousled from their heated passion of hours ago, and the firelight caught his blue eyes, making them glow and flicker. She bit her bottom lip as she took in the contours of his bare shoulders and firm chest. She looked back up to his eyes bravely.
"I always pay attention to what you say," he smiled. "Do you know what moments I cherish the most between us? They are all memorable of course, but it's our lunches at the College, and our walks to The Crystal Palace, and our singing in the classroom. We didn't have to worry about who was watching. We didn't have to scheme and plan how to secretly see each other. We were just together, darling, together in the moment. That is what I imagine our life shall be – you, me, together, living our lives."
Mary smiled up at him. He leaned down and kissed her chastely.
"Perhaps we are meant to be together, and we are very lucky that destiny ordained for a series of unrelated events to bring us to where we are now. But darling, I don't count on any of that. We weren't given this chance by God's decree. I love you, Mary, and that means showing you each and every day, so that you never have reason to doubt it."
"I love you, Matthew," Mary whispered. She reached for him and they kissed. She gasped as she felt him press himself against her.
"I think I feel you stirring now, husband," she teased, running her hand lightly along his arm. "Three times on our first night together as husband and wife, Matthew? That's rather ambitious of you."
"Mary," Matthew groaned against her hair. "Please."
Mary smiled, kissing him lightly. "One moment, darling. I seem to recall you promised me that you would tell me where we were going on honeymoon once we arrived in London."
Matthew ran his hand through his hair, trying to control himself. "Yes?"
"Well here we are and you haven't said anything about it," Mary noted. "Perhaps you're too tired to discuss it. Should we go to sleep?"
"No!" Matthew cried, swallowing and stilling his shaking hands. "No, Mary, I'm quite awake now. What would you like to know, darling?"
"Well, for one, where are you taking me?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.
"To Cannes," Matthew replied quickly.
"Cannes?" Mary's face lit up. "The Riviera!"
"Yes," Matthew smiled. "Warmer than Yorkshire, not as much rain, a taste of Paris fashion and food without the crowds, and some of the glamour and luxury of Venice without the tourists."
Mary beamed and kissed him. "Oh, Matthew! You couldn't have remembered that drabble we talked about all those years ago? Cannes and the Riviera. It's perfect, darling."
Matthew laughed and kissed her forehead lovingly. "Would you like to hear what I have planned for our arrival?"
Mary moved closer to him and smiled as he groaned at the contact of her skin against his, her leg rubbing teasingly against him. Her hand travelled down his side, making him shiver.
"You can tell me the rest of it in the morning, darling," she whispered into his ear, before she pulled him on top of her and took his mouth in a fierce kiss.