Author's Note: There are two Chapter 7s to "As It Comes". Both are denouements. Both wrap up the story with similar themes. I did this because although for many survivors the ultimate revenge after sexual assault is reclamation of pleasure and intimacy, for others it is very hurtful to even contemplate that stage. In my case it felt intuitively harmonious to finish with an erotic chapter, but I have profound respect for everyone's healing process, so this version is erotica-free, yet still finishes with intimacy, togetherness, comfort and the best revenge, which is to live past the injury and to love.


Anna had been tired before but never like this, never this weary. It had been a rewarding finish to her first turn as substitute head housekeeper, with a praise and thank you from His Lordship in the library followed by a praise and thank you session in Mr. Carson's office. It had gone quite well, in spite of Mr. Barrow's plot. She was also looking forward to seeing Mrs. Hughes tomorrow morning and returning the honored house keys. Head housekeeper was a different job and Anna could get used to it and excel at it, in time. But in spite of her success these last three days, it had been exhausting.

She paused on the path, watching John walk past the cottage window. She stood looking at the warm light, the edges of the curtains they had selected together, the furnishings inside, and saw her life. The man she had always wanted was setting the tea service just in case she wanted some. He walked back across the room with his uneven gait, the one that always reminded her of his sometimes foolish leaning toward sacrifice and bravery. He was wearing one of his white undershirts and Anna was suddenly filled with a sensation that she remembered well.

Since the attack, every morning and every night lying next to him, Anna had wondered when she would want to have him again. She could feel the desire to be close to him, underneath all the monsters she had been fighting, but she hadn't been able to access it. Every day at least twice a day she had chided herself, goaded herself, and even despaired at times. He had reassured her in the clearest way possible that he wanted the marriage without the physical act if that was to be, and he had been loving and kind through the ordeal. And Anna knew better than to force herself; he would have sensed that immediately and stopped her. Still, she had pestered herself about it.

That is, until the last three days. There simply hadn't been time. She had been so busy substituting for Mrs. Hughes and so tired by the extra work and hours that she had left off the self-nagging sessions. She had taken a break. And now...

Now her heart leaped. Now, she felt it again, fresh and vigorous as snowdrops unfolding their blossoms under winter leaves- the reemergence of her desire for him.

She wanted him.

She shifted on her sore feet and watched him carry a book across the room, imagined holding him, kissing him, having him. The scent of him, clean and warm, the bulk of his shoulders, the velvet throb of his voice when her head was on his chest and his wide, encompassing, smooth hands. Anna's breath was rushing. Her responses were returning to her. She took in the lines of his profile, the melding of mercenary ruthlessness and boyish vulnerability that drew her like a craving. She thought of the way his eyes changed color with changing light, the thickness of his hair and soft hair on his chest, on his belly...

Anna opened the cottage door.

His face lit up, the way it always did when he hadn't seen her for hours. He came to her straightaway and kissed her. She held the back of his neck to draw the kiss longer. His eyebrows went up. "Well," he said, smiling, "Hello. How was it?" She pulled him back down, sipping along his lower lip, her arms going tightly around him. He held her face, his fingers trailing to her neck the way she had always loved. It had been a long time since she had kissed him like that. He hadn't forgotten.

Finally she said, "I'm knackered. But it was a successful trial,"

"No one doubted that,"

"Despite the plans of Mr. Barrow,"

"You're sure I can't speak to him?" He eyes darkened.

"Yes," said Anna firmly, "In certain situations I am still more intimidating than you would be. Thomas has no respect for strength or nobility. Only for-"

"-those who outfox him. What did Baxter say today?"

"He was foiled this time, so he appears to be lying low for the moment,"

"I still can't think why he would do that to you,"

"But it wasn't to me, not directly. He stole the storeroom key and hid it in Baxter's room to implicate her, to play on the idea that she would be jealous of me. But Mosely just happened to see him sneaking out of Mrs. Hughes' office, told Baxter, and she told me immediately. She knows his tricks as well as anyone,"

"You'll remind Mrs. Hughes to never again let the keys out of her sight?"

"It wouldn't be fair, not with that howling coming from the kitchen. Everyone dropped everything that night to see what was going on. And now that I think of it, Thomas could have been responsible for that little grease fire as well. He had the opportunity with everyone so busy,"

"Let's hope something happens soon to distract him,"

"I was hoping he'd meet a nice American fellow,"

He laughed. "Mrs. Bates! How shocking,"

She slid close to him, tracing his lower lip with her finger. She was thirsty for him. But she had no idea what would happen.

"I-I want...But I don't know-" she began

"I've an idea," he said, "If it sounds right to you. Why not...let me be your servant tonight? I will only proceed from your directives,"

Anna rubbed her palms on his, sliding her fingers between his in a little dance of hands.

"Will you undress me for bed, then?" she said.

He smiled at her, his eyes so warm. "I am at your service," he said.