"Good morning Mr Bates."

"Good morning Anna."

The ritual of their morning tea was a comforting one. A chance to greet each other, for their eyes to meet and spend a short time sat together, sharing letters and news and information about the day ahead.

"Did you sleep well?"

John occasionally marvelled at how Anna could be so demure and correct, sat neatly, sipping her tea with barely a blush in her cheeks after reading his notes. If it wasn't for the light in her eyes, he would wonder if she'd received them.

"Quite well, thank you Mr Bates."

There was mischief in her face this morning. A slight twist in her smile, that John knew well from their wedding night and his dreams ever night thereafter. Anna was plotting something wicked and the very idea of it melted his stomach in a hot, sweet sensation.

Beneath the table, John became aware of her hand moving, brushing against his leg. When her fingers met his, she slipped a folded square of paper into the palm of his hand.

Just at that moment, the bell for Lady Mary rang.

"Best get on," Anna hurried to her feet, flashing him a smile on her way out.

On instinct, John thrust the note into his pocket, wondering how he might find a moment's privacy to read it. Judging by Anna's expression, if he read it at the table, he would run the risk of blushing.

...

Alone in his room, after breakfast, John unfolded the little square with trepidation.

My dear John

Your notes have been a delight. But this is a special request.

I long to know how you thought of me, before we were together.

Not in your polite countenance and thoughtful consideration, but deep in the night, alone with your imaginings. I long to know what desires and wishes you had for me. Even the ones you tried to deny. Especially the ones you tried to deny.

A.Bates

John's knees turned to water. He sank into a chair, his hand shaking as he scanned through the note again. Oh what a minx, what a naughty minx he had married, and he gave thanks for every time she surprised him like this.

Breathing out slowly, he marshalled his thoughts, unlocking the mental safes where he had long since stored all of those deep and secret desires. Pulling his pad of paper and pen towards him, he began to write.

...

For Anna, the day was torturously long. Her path didn't cross with John's all day and she longed to know what he had made of her request. She hoped beyond measure that she hadn't offended him, but she was fairly sure that he would not be. Not after how he had spoken last night and the things he had said to her.

All night, the idea of how she might have featured in his deep and hidden thoughts had tormented her. Early in their friendship and courtship, he had been so stoic. She had changed her mind a hundred times a day, unsure whether he liked her, whether he was just being polite, or whether he had a genuine affection for her.

And all the time, he had been longing for her, as much if not more than she had longed for him, in the slow depths of the night, when sleep was beyond her and the house was silent. When she had lain awake, twisting her hair into her own hands, wracked with guilty desire and desperate to know whether he felt the same for her.

When she went up to change before tea, she found her legs were shaking, and her stomach churning.

Please let him have written what she asked for.

Please.

Her heart leaped to find a stiff wedge of paper stuffed under her door. Scrambling through changing her clothes, Anna hastened to read it, sat perched on the end of her bed.

My darling wife

It is not in my power to deny you anything.

For long years I denied my feelings about you, even to myself. I didn't believe I had the right to think of you as anything more than a colleague, a pleasant companion to pass spare moments with. I believed it was folly to allow myself to think of anything else.

However, my dreams had other ideas.

I remember the first dream I had about you. I thought I had woken in the night, to find you sat beside my bed. I didn't realise I was dreaming, I tried to argue with you, to persuade you to leave. Even in my dreams you knew better. You kissed me, and my lips had never experienced such delight. You tasted sweet, cool and soft. The scent of your skin was beautiful, the feel of your hands on me was so intense I could barely breathe.

I woke to find my heart racing, skin drenched, my blood pounding. I wished so much for it to be real. I didn't think anything could be so beautiful, so sensual. I didn't believe I would ever be so lucky in my waking life. I have never been more relieved to be wrong.

You came to me in my dreams, asleep and half waking, so often. But that is a tale for another time. And now, adieu, until tomorrow, my dearest love.

JB

PS If I have agreed to write down my secret desires for you, would you indulge me and do the same? I long to know how I featured in your own secret thoughts before we were wed. I hardly dared hope you would think of me, my curiosity runs wild to know if you did.

The second sheet of paper was blank, waiting for her reply.

Her cheeks flushed and heart racing, Anna reached for a drink of water to calm her raging temperature. She held the glass to her cheeks to cool them, feeling her breath shake through her body.

Memories of her own dreams and longings stirred, teasing the edges of her consciousness. Firmly, resolutely, she pushed them away, determined to concentrate on the evening ahead of her. Later on, when she could be alone, then she would draft her reply...