19
A/N: This one's for anyone who's tweeted me about this story! Enjoy...
He did things to her. He did things that she didn't understand, that she couldn't explain, that didn't make sense. He made her feel things she'd thought she was incapable of feeling. She thought the grief, the sorrow, had taken away her ability to feel like that about another person. She'd thought she'd become too closed off – not to love, though love was a part of it. Simply... to feel so deeply. To be so fully under his control, to be so completely his that she couldn't even hold her tongue.
She shouldn't have said it. It was sweet, too sweet, to perfect, to much like a fairytale. And it hadn't been true. She hadn't meant to lie but it hadn't been true. And now he was so happy, and rewarding her for making him so happy. He was there, touching her and kissing her and making her squirm and she wasn't pretending or faking but in a way she was. There was a small part of her brain that wanted to move away, to tell him to stop, that she didn't deserve this because she had lied. She hadn't meant to lie. She really hadn't. His face, those eyes, those stunning blue eyes had burnt her into feeling as though she was someone else, as though she was what he said she was. When she had said it she had been telling the truth. But it hadn't really been her.
Her back arched and she screamed out his name. Most of her brain was still with him. Her brain and her body – everything. Everything but this tiny fraction of her mind that couldn't let go.
He kissed her mouth and she tasted herself. She tried to involve her whole mind in the kiss, to think about nothing but the feeling of it, the power of him as he touched her and held her and brought her to life. She wondered if he noticed. She wondered if he would let her know if he did. It was like a game of cards, like poker. Hiding your feelings, pretending, keeping a poker face while you hid a hand so bad you should have folded from the start... but the prize was so enticing that she couldn't fold. She had to play even though she was doomed to lose, and soon, because she was running out of things to bet. Soon he would realise, soon he would work out that no matter how priceless every soul might be, his daughter and his family and his own life were worth more than she was.
She was broken. She was nothing. She would disappear into the dark alleyways and save people; he would disappear into the light and make people happy. He let her go to sleep this time, because although he knew women, he didn't know her well enough to detect the slight imperfections in her breathing, the flutter of her eyelids as she kept them gently closed, the twitching of her fingers as he pulled the blanket over both of them and kissed her goodnight.
The bed was warm, so warm and soft and delicious. She lay on her side; her husband's body fitted itself around her as they slept, so close, touching as much as they could even subconsciously. She woke up slowly, blinking as her eyes explored the beautiful bedroom. Hers. Theirs. She was mistress of this house, this manor house that she was inside. She smiled peacefully and snuggled closer to Richard. She could feel his gentle breathing on her neck.
She wanted to get up though. She didn't like to lie in bed awake. And she needed to get up, anyway. There was a quiet cry and she sat up to look into the little crib at the end of the bed.
He was lying on his back with his eyes open, big blue eyes like his father's. She smiled and slipped out of bed, her long white nightgown floating around her in a slightly odd way that she wasn't used to. She picked up the baby and cradled him; she knew how because she had done this every day since he was born. She kissed the top of his head but that wasn't what he wanted.
Still smiling, she sat down on the edge of the bed and laid him on her lap as she unfastened her gown. She guided his little mouth to her breast and he sucked hungrily; she stroked his head and watched him drink, her wonderful little boy.
And then suddenly he was gone, ripped away from her and she screamed in agony. Richard was still sleeping; someone had their baby! The room had changed, she was so confused, her gown was gone, but Richard had to wake up because someone had her baby, her baby... Tears were streaming down her cheeks as Richard finally blinked and saw her in the darkness. He sat up with her as soon as he realised there was something wrong.
"Kate? Kate, what is it?"
Kate looked around the room, it was her bedroom in her flat above the bookshop. She looked at herself; there was no floaty white nightgown. There was no crib, no baby, it hadn't been real...
"Nothing. Sorry. I had a dream. I'm sorry I woke you."
She got out of bed and pulled on a robe; his eyes followed her as she wiped her face and shook a hand through her hair.
"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked, confused and worried.
"No," she said quietly. "Go back to sleep, I'll be back in a minute."
She hoped he would think she needed to use the privy. In the end she decided she would go outside; the little, stinking shed at the bottom of the small yard behind the shop suddenly seemed far more inviting than the bed. She crept down in just her robe, not afraid because fear didn't occur to her. There was a large moon which lit her way. A cat screeched when she went outside but she didn't even flinch. She shut herself up in the tiny room, sat down, and tried to think.
She got nowhere. Ten minutes later, due to the risk of being poisoned more than anything else, she went back into the house, pausing at the downstairs kitchen to wash her hands. When they were clean she decided she might as well wash the rest of her. The range wasn't lit yet so she had to use cold water but in a way she was glad of the cold. It woke her up, made her feel more normal.
She dried herself on a rag and put her robe back on. She hoped Richard would have gone to sleep. He seemed tired, and she had told him she was fine. People had dreams. She felt wide awake now; she had no wish to go back to bed and cuddle. It wouldn't be good for her, anyway. She shouldn't be thinking of him in terms of someone to cuddle with.
She decided she was hungry and found some fruit cake to eat. She took it back up to her living room, going via the bookshop to find something to read. She ended up with Pride and Prejudice. Probably not a good choice. She could see several similarities between herself and Castle and Lizzie and Darcy. Their conversations, their refusal to see what they meant to each other... She was more like Lizzie than Castle was like Darcy. She had read the book before but it seemed to carry more meaning. The jokes seemed to be directly aimed at her, teasing her, taunting her. Even the first line of the book seemed to be for her.
It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife.
Though Kate of course saw the joke, the sarcasm... she also saw that it was true. At the end of the book, all the rich single men are married. They do want wives. Richard was the definition of a single man in possession of a good fortune. And he was in want of... well, her love, anyway. And love meant marriage. Kate didn't think it should have to, necessarily, but she understood that in her society, it did. Did Richard want to marry her? Was that his dream?
And was she leading him on? She tried not to think, reading her book, enjoying Lizzie and Darcy and the other characters, laughing at Lady Catherine as she thought of herself. She might enjoy being a rich old woman, once she was too old for anything else.
She didn't finish the book, but she knew she should deal with the dream. The dream about the baby. Tomorrow – later today, now – she was having tea with Alexis and a group of other young ladies and she needed to be composed. She knew being worried about a dream would make this much harder, so she was determined to think it through and be over it by morning.
So the baby. Her baby. Castle's baby. The baby that they had had together, after getting married and going to live in his manor house. She sighed. It was absurd. It was just a manifestation of her wish for comfort and security, a wish which every person had. The fact that it had been him was only natural – she had been in bed with him. It didn't mean she loved him, it didn't mean she needed to change anything. And as for the baby... perhaps she was getting to a maternal time of month. She frowned, because she knew she wasn't. And she wasn't... no. She would know. She would know if there was another life inside her. She would feel it. There wasn't. She had counted.
To be on the safe side she would encourage him to be more adventurous next week, but this week shouldn't be too risky.
Did she really want a baby? She didn't think so. Her arms still ached for not holding the tiny little child but it was just an echo of the dream, she told herself firmly. Nothing more than that. She was not going to have children. She wasn't fit to be a good mother, and the world was so full of hatred she didn't want to bring another person into that, not when she was still in danger.
And that was the end of it. No babies. There. She was tired now. She went into the bedroom and sure enough, Richard was asleep, snoring softly and taking up most of the bed. She gently shoved him back to his side and got in beside him, taking off her robe and pulling the blanket around her. He moved in response to her presence, though he didn't wake up. He draped his arm protectively over her stomach; he was lying on his front. She closed her eyes and slowed her breathing, knowing she would have to wake up in an hour or so anyway and that she really should try to get some rest.
A/N: As always, thanks for reading you awesome people. Thank you especially to all the doods that leave reviews or talk to me on twitter – you guys ROCK and I love you! Please keep commenting, reviewing, following, favouriting – it is really wonderful of you to do those things!
Also – I mention Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen. This is a FANTASTIC book which if you haven't already, I highly recommend you read. As I've suggested, Lizzie and Darcy have a Caskett worthy banterful relationship. If you can't face the book (huge frown at you) there are numerous film versions too. My fav is the BBC mini series but the Keira Knightley movie is great and has a wonderful piano soundtrack. Go on – you know you want to! (If you have already read/watched it tell me in a review/PM and we can fangirl together!)
Love you very much xxx
