Dukes and Devilry

by Felicia Greene

  ‘Open your eyes.’ Oliver’s voice was full of knowing humour. ‘Or I shall worry that I have put you to sleep.’

  Susan blinked, smiling. ‘I do not think that I shall ever sleep again.’

  ‘Sleeping requires closing your eyes.’ Oliver looked at her, his palm warm against hers. ‘Perhaps I shall have to kiss you every night, for many hours, until you are dreaming soundly.’

  ‘I should like that.’ Susan said it with a soft note of surprise. ‘I believe that I should like that very much. But… but we cannot.’

  She looked at him, suddenly full of panic. There was no way Oliver could kiss her to sleep every night; he lived at Rowhaven, and she at Longwater. There was no question of asking him to move here—the large mammals alone would ensure she never had a moment’s peace again—and even though she knew it was customary for women to move, to make the household, the thought of being far from Longwater made her want to be sick—

  ‘Susan.’ Oliver’s voice brought her gently back to earth. ‘You are already thinking too much. Stop it.’

  ‘I cannot stop it. One must think very hard, to try and construct an impossible thing.’ Susan looked narrowly at Oliver. ‘I am attempting to keep my life at Longwater, and build a life with you. It is a difficult task.’

  Oliver’s sudden, delighted smile made Susan realised she had forgotten to articulate an important step in her reasoning. ‘Build a life with me?’

  ‘Oh, goodness. Yes. I had rather assumed. I am in love with you, you see—at least, I believe I am. From what I have seen of other people in love, and from thorough self-assessment.’ Susan swallowed, the idea of her feelings not being returned spreading through every part of her like pitch-black water. ‘Which I now see that I should have told you before, because I understand that this now seems somewhat sudden—’

  She stopped, her words dissolving into a sigh, as Oliver kissed her again. It was longer this time, the kiss, and imperceptibly richer; the difference between a tea-rose and a full-petalled, fragrant red one. Susan, who normally hated being interrupted by anything, found herself drowsily making an exception to her rule.

  ‘I love you too. Quite madly.’ Oliver rested his head against her shoulder; Susan breathed in the warm, clean scent of him, thinking dizzily that this was the only person, the only person in the world, whom she wished to embrace in this fashion. ‘A fortunate state in itself, and blissful when returned.’

  ‘Good. I am very glad.’ Susan wondered if there were better words to express her joy, but Oliver seemed content with whatever she said. ‘But how are we ever to live together? To do all of the things that people in love do?’

  Oliver looked up at her, his face quizzical. ‘Do you want to do all of the things that people in love do?’

  Marry again? Move into a single household… attempt to have children, even though the idea of being a mother seemed as distant as the moon? Even with Oliver by her side, such things seemed so foolish to Susan as to be ridiculous.

  ‘No.’ She shook her head, feeling oddly liberated. ‘No. I do not wish to do most of them.’

  ‘Then we shall not. We are both long past the age of building households—we each have our own, and we will keep them both.’ Oliver spoke quietly, looking up at the stars. ‘I shall continue my research with animals, and you shall continue to construct this dazzling garden. I have Olive, and you have your brother and a herd of sisters-in-law… why should we give anything up, when everything can be kept?’

  ‘I find travelling very difficult. Very difficult indeed.’ Susan looked down at Oliver, choosing her words carefully. ‘But I think I could go to Rowhaven for you, sometimes. Perhaps on a regular basis.’ She paused. ‘I think.’

  ‘I could come here, and stay here, and we could return to Rowhaven together. I could accompany you whenever and wherever you wish to go.’ Oliver sighed contentedly. ‘As long as I can kiss you to sleep, whenever you are near.’

  ‘And I could… well. I could do many things, I think, if you were beside me.’ Susan paused. ‘How curious.’

  ‘What is curious?’ Oliver looked up. ‘Loving someone?’

  ‘No.’ Susan stared, forgetting herself. ‘Knowing that I could do many things.’ She smiled. ‘I had forgotten that I could do many things.’

  Her words merited another kiss, although she wasn’t entirely sure why. When it had finished, her cheeks and lips flushed with the pleasure of it, Susan looked down to find Sheba sitting silently closer to her than before.

  ‘I have been accepted by your bird.’ She looked at Sheba, who stared placidly back. ‘That is fortunate.’

  ‘Exceedingly fortunate.’ Oliver studied Sheba for a moment, the bird clearly enjoying the attention. ‘In a competition between Sheba and yourself, I fear the creature with the six-foot wingspan would win.’

  ‘There would be no competition.’ Susan looked narrowly at Oliver. ‘Unless you kiss the bird to sleep.’

  ‘I do not.’ Oliver smiled. ‘But what shall I do, when I am in Rowhaven and you are in Longwater, and I cannot kiss you to sleep?’

  ‘Well, you are certainly not to kiss any of the animals you study.’ Susan spoke sternly, until Oliver’s face softened her tone. ‘And… and you are to read my letters. I am going to write you ever-so-many letters.’

  ‘Splendid.’ Oliver sighed happily. ‘I delight in reading your letters.’

  ‘How very lucky for you.’ Susan gently tucked a strand of Oliver’s hair behind his ear, tidying it. ‘Writing to you may be my favourite thing to do.’

  ‘Oh, yes?’ Oliver’s hand caressed her face, moving to her lips. ‘Your favourite?’

  ‘Hmm.’ Susan moved closer, a small smile on her lips. ‘Perhaps my second favourite.’

  THE END

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