by Advocate
Bridget pressed her nose in Faylinn’s hair and mumbled against the silken strands. "I know. It really is all right, Faylinn." She soaked in the sensation of Faylinn in her arms and faced up to a very basic truth about herself. "I’ll never leave you. I know I’m quite impossible sometimes." She licked her lips nervously but was determined to press on. "I love you far too much to even consider living without you, whether it is best for you in the long run or not." She placed a tender kiss on Faylinn’s head. "To my great shame, I am doubtlessly the most selfish bitch alive."
"You are not!" Faylinn shouted. "How can you question this? I know you feel it too. You are best for me in the long and short run. Don’t you dare say any different, Bridget," she warned her seriously. "I mean it. I have the Devil’s own temper when pushed." She stamped her foot for emphasis. "Hearing you talk like that taxes me beyond all reason. And if you do it again, I’ll… Well, I’ll…. I don’t know! But it will be fearsome. I guarantee that!"
A small, unexpected laugh bubbled up from within Bridget. "Fearsome?"
"Don’t you dare laugh at me!" But Faylinn couldn’t help but crack a smile herself. "You are quite stuck with me, whether you want to be or not." The curve of sensual lips, flash of white teeth, and eyes suddenly brimming with glittering tears let Faylinn know just how Bridget felt about that. Faylinn let out another more relaxed laugh.
Bridget drew in a deep breath and for a second Faylinn worried she would have another fight on her hands. But instead, to her delight, Bridget only nodded. "We are stuck with each other," she corrected warmly. Low and sweet, her voiced wrapped itself around Faylinn’s heart.
In the decades that still stretched before them, each would talk of many things, argue over countless subjects, and evoke tears of pain and laughter from the other. This question, however, was settled firmly on that cold Christmas Eve night… for all time.
Faylinn reluctantly loosened her death grip on Bridget, already missing the comforting warmth she’d been deprived of the past two days. Feeling drained, but knowing they still had several important things to discuss, she curled her fingers around Bridget’s and led her to the bed where they both sat down.
Bridget gently pushed Faylinn’s cloak from her shoulders. "Just a moment." The cloth was cold and damp and she got up to hang it near the fireplace.
She could feel something in the inside pocket and caught sight of the very tip of a bright red ribbon. She opened the cloak a little more for a better view and smiled to herself, knowing she had a gift for Faylinn hidden away as well. She wondered idly if the younger woman would make her wait until Christmas morning for her booty.
"No peeking," Faylinn called to her sternly.
Bridget jumped a little and her cheeks colored as though she were a child caught stealing sweets from her mother’s pantry. "That was not nice, Faylinn."
"It was so. Not nice would be making you wait till New Years just for peeking."
Bridget arched an eyebrow at her companion’s wicked streak and padded back to the bed. She sat down and kicked her feet up onto the soft surface. The silence between them lingered and, after the high emotions surrounding Faylinn’s homecoming, for once it was Bridget who found herself wanting to break it. Relentlessly, she picked at a loose thread in the quilt. Since this appears to be a night for confessions and brutal honesty…. "Faylinn?"
"Hmm?" Faylinn answered absently. She was twirling a lock of glossy dark hair between her fingers, enjoying its coarse but silky texture and the way the candlelight seemed to make it shimmer.
"It is…." Bridget stopped and kicked herself for not knowing where to start. But this was so hard.
"Yes?" Faylinn smoothed back Bridget’s unruly tresses and did her best to sit and wait patiently. The confused, stressed look on Bridget’s face, however, was enough to make her anxiety mount.
"My foul temper since coming to the mainland has not solely been because I needed to get out of this God be damned room for a while." Bridget gathered her courage and forced herself to tell Faylinn everything. "I’ve needed you these past weeks. I still do." Bridget looked away and completely missed Faylinn’s heartfelt smile. "More than I’ve ever needed anyone or anything in my life."
"I need you too, Bridget. You—"
"Let me finish." She pressed two fingers against Faylinn’s lips and continued despite the interruption. "And I’m afraid I haven’t handled it very well. On Cobb Island I felt that it was you who needed me. You needed to be rescued from Cyril. But now —" She gave her head a little shake and removed her fingers from Faylinn’s lips, very aware of their softness as she pulled away. Her voice dropped to the barest of whispers. "Everything has changed. I’ve never been so afraid."
When Faylinn sensed that Bridget wasn’t going to continue, she reminded her simply, "The most important things, Bridget, have not changed at all." She cupped Bridget’s cheeks with sure hands and stroked high cheekbones with her thumbs. Her gaze softened as she looked deeply into frightened pale eyes. "What is it that frightens you so?"
An embarrassed look chased across Bridget’s face and focused on the bedspread, falling silent once again.
Blonde brows knit tightly together. "Certainly not me."
Bridget sighed. "You don’t understand."
"Then help me," Faylinn whispered, clearly deeply adrift.
A sudden storm erupted in Bridget’s eyes. "That’s just it!" She tried to jerk her head from Faylinn’s hands, but the younger woman seemed to know what she was going do before she did it, and held her firm.
"No you don’t, Bridget." Then she tried another tack. "I’m mortally tired from our trip and I haven’t the energy to chase you all around this room. Please." Faylinn relaxed her hands again and her touch shifted into a tender caress.
As fast as it came, Bridget’s anger melted away under the soothing touch. She sighed.
"Please, love."
Bridget swallowed hard at the endearment and her breathing came a little faster.
"Tell me."
Bridget’s jaw worked for a moment, then she blurted out, "Don’t you see? I cannot help you!" She looked at Faylinn as though that explained everything.
Faylinn blinked as she searched Bridget’s face for any clue. "I’m sorry, I still don’t understand. I—"
"Look at me!" Bridget jerked away and swung her limp, slightly twisted arm towards the shorter woman, stifling a cry as a searing bolt of pain shot from her shoulder to the tips of her fingers. With her other hand, she pushed up her sleeve, exposing most of the damaged limb.
Faylinn did her best not to let her face show just how upset she really was. "Oh, Bridget." The full shirtsleeve had hidden the fact that the splint was gone from Bridget’s arm and before today it had always been heavily bandaged. Faylinn closed her eyes.
"Look," Bridget repeated roughly, shaking her arm until Faylinn complied. Now you’ll understand why I cannot be what you need.
"Bridget, you must give it time. It’s only been—" Faylinn paused and did the math, realizing grimly that the bone would have knitted together by now and that something must have gone terribly wrong. She’d replaced the splints many times, though it was always Will, who, at Bridget’s insistence, had changed the bandages.
The arm was crooked and, even with the splint on it, Faylinn had known that. But she’d always looked past its misshapen bones, assuming it would heal and somehow right itself with time. Or maybe I just didn’t want to see the truth, she admitted shamefully. She gently reached out and took the cool, relaxed hand in hers, feeling it twitch slightly at the unexpected contact. Its palm was soft and smooth, free from the small calluses that had characterized it before. She stroked the skin gently.
"It’s not a matter of time anymore, Faylinn." Bridget closed her eyes at Faylinn’s touch.
"It’s not your sword hand, Bridget."
Bridget’s eyes snapped open. "Bu—"
Faylinn silenced the protest with a look. "You’ve had your say, Bridget Redding. And now I shall have mine.
" She waited for the grumpy frown to leave Bridget’s face and for her to nod before she went on. "So stubborn," she mumbled. But her reassuring smile took the sting out of the words. "I want you to really listen to what I’m saying, not just hear it. You need to believe this as I do." For both our sakes.
Warily, Bridget nodded. There was nothing she would deny Faylinn.
"Even if you could no longer lift a sword at all, it wouldn’t matter." Faylinn sharply raised an eyebrow at Bridget and her gaping mouth, daring her to interrupt again. "I do not require a bodyguard. And despite your chivalrous inclinations, I never have." With great care she lifted Bridget’s injured hand, watching the larger woman’s face for the slightest flinch. Seeing none, she placed it on her own chest, directly over her heart. She held it there until she was certain Bridget could feel its strong beat. "I want more than that. I need more than that." As you have always given me, from the very start.
"Anything within my power, Faylinn. Anything I have is yours," Bridget swore fervently.
"I’m glad you said that." Faylinn smiled and gently removed Bridget’s hand from her chest, allowing it to rest in her lap. She shifted closer still, ignoring any sense of propriety and the butterflies in her stomach as she brought her face to within inches of Bridget’s.
She could see the rapid rise and fall of Bridget’s chest as she breathed and the flare of her nostrils as she reacted to Faylinn’s close proximity. Experimentally, and with all the tenderness she felt inside, she leaned in and placed a tiny, feather-light kiss at the very top of the jagged scar than ran from just outside Bridget’s eye to her jaw.
Bridget forgot how to breathe as tiny kisses worked their way down her face. Oh, God.
Faylinn heard a faint whimper and it increased her desire tenfold. Her stomach clenched and when she reached the end of the scar, the very tip of her tongue flicked out and licked it. She felt as much as she heard Bridget’s low growl of arousal. She pulled back and regarded the hooded eyes she felt certain she could lose herself in. Swallowing roughly Faylinn husked, "I cannot understand this, Bridget. If I am damned to hell for something that feels this right—"
"Then I am damned as well," Bridget whispered, each word sending a warm puff of air against Faylinn’s face. "Either way we will be together."
Faylinn’s gaze dropped to Bridget’s mouth and this time her heart refused to be denied. "So be it." She fully intended to move forward and capture what she’d desired for so long, but Bridget beat her to it.
Their lips met in gentle, consuming passion and both women hummed into the sweet contact. Small hands naturally found their way into thick tresses and Faylinn felt an answering arm wrap tightly around her waist and draw her to Bridget’s body.
It was like no kiss she’d ever experienced and Faylinn felt it all the way to her toes. Without effort, it chased away the room’s chill, though she still found herself shivering, helpless under Bridget’s spell.
Faylinn’s lips were soft and yielding and everything Bridget had dreamt they’d be. She moaned throatily when Faylinn gently parted her own lips with an inquisitive tongue and pushed softly forward into her mouth. She was enveloped in a blissful, staggering heat that robbed her of all reason. Bridget eagerly deepened the kiss, desperate to taste everything Faylinn was offering and more. Hot tongues swirled against each other, sliding together effortlessly but with mounting desire. With each passing second, Bridget’s blood pulsed hotter in her veins.
Unconsciously, Faylinn’s hands clenched tighter in Bridget’s hair and she used them as an anchor against the maelstrom of sensation. Her whole universe narrowed to the mouth loving hers so perfectly. There was a dull roaring in her ears and she realized in a far off way that it wasn’t the wind outside, but the frantic beating of her heart.
Shadows danced on the walls as the candle began to gutter. The wick neared its end, then fell sideways into the hot pool of aromatic beeswax, darkening the room further until it gave off only the barest flicker of light.
The kiss ended naturally, but not without several parting nibbles and whimpers from each woman.
Bridget pressed her forehead to Faylinn’s and let out a shuddering breath, her chest heaving. "Oh," she breathed, "that was…." Her words trailed off as she fought for some way to articulate the wash of bright emotion still swamping her senses.
"Mmm hmm." Faylinn agreed, too stunned to actually form a coherent sentence. She licked her moist lips, remembering the taste and exquisite feeling of Bridget’s tongue sliding against them. She groaned quietly as the mere thought sent a bolt of heat careening between her legs. Her groan gave way to a nervous gasp when the unfamiliar sensation caused a blossoming warmth deep in her belly to spread outward.
"We should have done that much sooner," Bridget finally said.
"God, yes," Faylinn breathed. She looked up into eyes gone nearly silver in the dim light and a shyness that Bridget hadn’t seen on Faylinn’s face since her earliest days on Cobb Island shone plainly through. "We… um…." God, why am I blushing now? "We will do that again, won’t we?" If she says no I shall drop dead on the spot. I know it.
Twin eyebrows disappeared behind dark bangs and Bridget laughed. "I certainly hope so." She gazed at Faylinn fondly and trailed a fingertip down the younger woman’s slightly upturned nose. "Merry Christmas, dearest. It must be well past midnight."
Faylinn’s expressive face was suddenly transformed into that of an excited adolescent. "Merry Christmas, love. It always was my favorite holiday," she paused and the face that was the very picture of youthful innocence only seconds before creased into a sexy grin, "I just never knew why until now."
Bridget scooted up to the head of the bed and patted the spot next to her, sparing a look at the candle that was threatening to die, but far too content to care. "You look lovely, by the way." She gestured to Faylinn’s new dark-brown dress with her chin. "Though I must admit, I find you adorable in trousers."
Faylinn laughed. "That’s doubly good then," she tugged at her collar, "because, and don’t you dare tell Katie, this itches like the Devil’s own backside."
"I won’t," Bridget chuckled and shook her head indulgently. Her gaze moved from Faylinn’s eyes to her golden hair and she admired it openly. After the kiss they’d shared she felt somewhat more comfortable showing and voicing her appreciation. Gone were the days of stealing jealous glances at her sister-in-law. She hoped. Bridget gently tugged on a strand of pale hair. "You should wear it down more often. It is too beautiful to hide."
Faylinn joined Bridget at the head of the bed, then reached up self-consciously and felt her head. Her braids and pins had worked themselves free, but since she’d worn her hood all day, she hadn’t bothered bringing it back to order. Now it hung loosely across her shoulders and down to the center of her back. "Thank you." She took the opportunity to examine Bridget’s attire, and made a face. "You are the most beautiful creature I have ever laid eyes on, Bridget." She grinned broadly. It felt so good to be able to say that out loud without fear of censure, reproach, or even damnation. "However, you look as though you have a blind seamstress."
Bridget bit her bottom lip in an attempt to ward off her laughter. "It’s not that bad," she offered diplomatically, still struggling to keep a straight face.
Faylinn sighed and pinned Bridget with a knowing look. "You’re right. It’s worse. Your seamstress was not only blind, but daft as well." She tugged on Bridget’s sleeve and snorted. "This is pitiful."
"Tch." But this time Bridget couldn’t suppress her laughter. "I, for one, think precise measurements are highly over-rated. I’ll have you know this is my favorite piece of clothing."
Faylinn’s eyes narrowed playfully. "You only have one other shirt, Bridget."
A dark eyebrow arched. "Yes, but I like this one more, therefore it is my favorite." She artfully changed the subject. "How was your first experience in a Colonial town? Did you find what you expected?"
The blood suddenly drained from Faylinn’s face. Sweet Mother, ho
w could I have forgotten? "I… I—"
"Hey," Bridget frowned. "What’s the matter?" She turned sideways so she was fully facing the younger woman. "Faylinn?"
"No." Faylinn licked her lips. "I didn’t expect to find…." The blonde woman swallowed hard. So much had happened tonight, she had intended on telling Bridget sooner, but… Her face dropped into her hands. Where is my mind? When she said she’d never leave me she didn’t know. What if…?
Bridget gently pulled Faylinn’s hands away from her face and ducked her head so that she could look directly at Faylinn’s face. "You’re frightening me, Faylinn. Did you run into to someone who knew who you were?" Her eyes widened. "God, why didn’t you say something sooner?" Bridget fairly flew off the bed, cursing roundly as she lost her balance and stumbled a step sideways. "We need—"
Faylinn grabbed her by the shirt to steady her. When the tall woman had found her legs, Faylinn tried to haul her back onto the bed. "That’s not—"
Bridget slapped away her hands. "Faylinn! We must hurry! You—"
Faylinn sighed and grabbed for her shirt again, getting a better hold this time and tugging firmly. "Bridget, please—"
"Faylinn, I mean it! There’s no time to—"
"Stop! By God, Bridget will you calm down and get back onto this bed? The Crown is not hunting me down. I’m pregnant!"
Bridget’s jaw hit the floor.
Faylinn cringed. Just wonderful. "I didn’t mean to tell you like that."
Bridget blinked stupidly.
"Since coming to the mainland I haven’t… I mean, I never got my…." Faylinn just shook her head. "At Katie’s insistence I visited a mid-wife in town." The older woman’s stunned silence sent Faylinn’s mind racing and her speech grew faster. "Please understand, Bridget. Cyril expected, no, demanded more heirs." She sighed and rubbed her temples with trembling hands, not wanting to think about the wretched nights her husband would visit her bedchamber and forcibly remind her of her wifely duties. Her stomach twisted into a solid knot. "By my heart, it was never my choice."
