Chapter title is a song by The Monkees from their 1986 album.
Head's up for mild marital pawing and implied sex.
Every Step of the Way
Mary tries to remember to hold still while Alice, Cindy's personal lady's maid, unfastens her jewelry and new gown.
As a child in India, someone always dressed and undressed Mary, but when she moved to Misselthwaite, Martha insisted Mary learn how to dress herself, because Martha didn't understand the point of a lady's maid. At the time, Misselthwaite had no mistress and things were quite strange compared to other grand houses. As a result, Mary had dressed herself for several years before she moved to London to complete her schooling alongside Colin.
But once in London, Mrs. Willingham had insisted one of the maids help Mary because it was horrifying that a lady should actually dress herself. Deciding not to complain too much, because the Willinghams already thought Mary and Colin were exceedingly peculiar, Mary had submitted to having someone help her with her clothes and hair again. When she moved back to Misselthwaite though, she returned to dressing herself, and when she married Dickon, it was imperative that she dress herself. So, having someone help her now still feels a little awkward, even though she likes Alice, who has been Cindy's maid since Cindy was a child.
As Alice unfastens the back of her evening gown, Mary thanks her demurely and removes the dress with care, hoping the sparkling beads won't catch and snag because it was expensive, as all her recent new clothing has been.
As soon as it's off, Alice takes it and puts it away properly. "You looked lovely tonight, ma'am," she says cheerfully, her American accent so different from the dialect at Misselthwaite.
"Thank you." Mary gives her a small smile.
As Alice gathers a new silk robe for Mary to wear while in her bed chamber, she adds, "Your husband did too, ma'am."
Mary sighs and takes off her shoes and stockings. "He did look dashing, but he was so uncomfortable. Thank goodness Cindy talked Colin into only inviting the Harveys instead of half of London's upper class tonight."
Apparently, two weeks earlier, Cindy had stepped in (without Mary or Dickon's knowledge) regarding this particular issue and had a discussion with Colin about why he did not need to invite fifteen of his elitist, wealthy friends from London to announce that his new estate manager was Misselthwaite's former head gardener. She'd pointed out that not only was Colin's own reputation at stake, but he would be forcing Dickon into a difficult situation that couldn't possibly end well. The chance of Colin's friends snubbing Dickon or doing their level best to make him feel more awkward than he already felt, just so they could have a good laugh about it, was extremely high. So she'd put her foot down and reminded Colin that he owed his best mate more respect than that.
To his credit, Colin had been quite abashed. He apologized and had taken her advice. The end result was that he only invited Oscar and Euphemia Harvey to dinner, which was a massive relief to both Dickon and Mary. Because it wasn't just the dinner party - Colin had also insisted that Mary, Dickon, and Richard move into Misselthwaite.
His argument for that request had been decent enough that they agreed: If Mary and Dickon lived in the manor itself, they would be in a better position to watch the estate whenever Colin and Cindy traveled to America. Besides, it was easy for all of them to live there and not be in each other's way. Furthermore, Colin decided to hire one of Dickon's younger sisters to help care for Richard in a new nursery, freeing up Mary's time to help her husband.
After some discussion, Mary and Dickon had agreed and moved their few belongings back to Misselthwaite, into chambers that were large enough to accommodate both of them.
Alice suddenly brings Mary back to reality. "Miss Cindy's always been logical like that," she says, in regards to Mary's previous statement.
Mary ties the sash of her new robe before sitting down at the vanity to take the pins out of her carefully arranged hairstyle. Alice begins to help her, even though she also needs to help Cindy undress for bed.
Mary meets Alice's eyes in the mirror. "It's fine," she insists, waving her hand. "I can get these myself. I know you still have to help Cindy. She and I will start looking for someone to be my own lady's maid this week."
"Are you sure, ma'am?"
"Yes, positive! Thank you again."
"Of course, ma'am." Alice leaves, and Mary sighs and starts brushing her hair, contemplative and somber.
The changes have been so fast-paced since Archibald Craven's death that she can barely keep up. Colin is moving full steam ahead, but he wouldn't be Colin if he didn't. With Mary and Dickon moving into Misselthwaite Manor, it means she needs a real lady's maid. And Dickon...
The bedroom door suddenly opens and her husband enters, looking tired and a bit cross. Unsurprisingly, John enters behind him.
"...know you don't want help," John is saying genially, "but I know best how to hang those tails so they don't wrinkle."
"It feels wrong," Dickon mutters, refusing to look at himself in the mirror as John helps him take off the jacket. "Havin' someone t' help me dress and undress meself, like I'm a doll."
"I know," John answers. "But we'd all rather it be you and instead of someone we didn't know. And it's just best to have someone help who can put the clothes away properly." He gestures to a side room and the two enter so Dickon can complete the process of undressing and join Mary in bed.
A few minutes later, her husband returns in a pair of loose trousers and a button-down tunic, John nods to both, turns out the lights, and leaves, closing the door behind him. Dickon climbs into bed and falls on his back, his arm over his eyes.
Mary joins him and draws her knees to her chest. "Those new pyjamas look as though they fit you well."
He sighs beneath his arm. "Eh, Colin's throwin' too much new stuff at me at once," he mutters. "Tails... dinner parties... pyjamas..."
She smiles and curls up against him, splaying her hand across his chest, running it beneath the v-neck of the tunic across the hard muscles. She rather prefers the new-fangled fad from the Far East better than the long night gowns men have been wearing up until just recently; it shows off her husband's physique better.
"At least Cindy talked him out of that elaborate dinner party he wanted to hold. And at least the Harveys reminded him why it's not a good idea for him to invite all of his friends to meet thee right off."
"Thank God for small blessin's," Dickon grumbles. He grasps her hand, threading their fingers together. After a long moment, he twists so he can shift his other arm under her shoulders and draws her closer into his side. "I don' know wha' I'd do if tha weren' here t' help me."
"Does tha hate Colin for all this?" she asks seriously, propping up to look at him.
Dickon chuckles and reaches over to put out the candle on the bedside table with his fingers. "Eh, not really. I get annoyed with him, aye. But I'm not truly mad at him. He's Colin. Always has been, always will be. Jus' needs remindin' once in a while that he don' own the whole bloody orange."
Mary giggles at their old joke. "True. But thankfully, Cindy balances him out."
"Aye, she does, an' I'm grateful for it. I'll have to thank her tomorrow morn'."
"Tha'll get used to helpin' him soon enow," Mary murmurs, laying back down and resting her head on his chest. She closes her eyes and breathes in his scent. It's not as strong tonight since he took a bath before for dinner with the Harveys, but she rather likes the smell of woodsy soap on his skin as much as she likes the smell of earth and sweat on him.
He says quietly, "I never dreamed, when I was a child, that Colin would ask me t' help wit' Misselthwaite. I always thoug' I'd be an under-gardener... maybe head gardener one day, if I were lucky... but certainly not this. It's almost too much, Mary."
"I know," she answers softly. "But... it also feels right, this way. All of us together, as we were when we were children in the garden. We just have to remember to go to the garden when we're feeling overwhelmed, so we can remember who we are and not get too cross with one another."
She hears the smile in his voice. "Does tha want t' sneak out t' th' garden t'night, love?"
"Mm. That's tempting." Without waiting for a reply, she sits up and straddles him, pushing the tunic out of her way.
"Wha' was th' point o' lettin' John dress me for bed," he teases, "if thy was jus' goin' t' undress me?"
"None at all, except I don't want John to know what we're doing the moment he leaves the room."
Dickon laughs as he bunches her nightdress around her hips. "We're married, love, and we have a son. I'm sure he can guess."
"I suppose he can," she agrees. "But him guessing and him knowing are two entirely different things."
"True enow," he agrees, gently pulling the night dress over her head and tossing it off the bed.
"At least," she gasps, as his hands mold to her body, "Colin hasn't planned for you to meet anyone else except the Harveys for a while."
"Give 'im time," he mutters darkly, his hips bucking up against her.
She bends at this point and kisses him, angling her mouth just right into his, feeling his strength and solidarity beneath her as his mouth opens hungrily.
When they finally break apart for air she whispers, "I need you out of these clothes." Her fingers curl about the waistband of his pants.
"These newfangled pyjamas?" The teasing is evident.
"Yes, Dickon, and also..." She blushes in the darkness. "I think it's about time we think about giving Richard a sibling, don't you?"
She feels his fingers flex against her skin. They haven't particularly discussed this recently, and she hates to throw something new at him, but Richard is getting older and she doesn't want him to be too old before they have another.
After a moment, he says, "I suppose thee's right. He'll be over two an' a hal' afore thy could have another if we start really tryin'. There's three years between me an' Martha. An' tha knows I want more than one."
She teases his mouth with hers, feels his hands rove over her skin, before she breaks apart and says, "So do I."