by Lily Holland
The day before his return, I decide to plan out something special. Being alone in this great place has made me think things through and I have reached the conclusion that I need to spend more time with my husband.
His heart is depressed? I will show him there is love all around if one is ready to open one’s eyes: the chirping of birds in the trees, the shade of pink and purple as the sun sets, the smell of old books and the comforting tastes of hot winter meals, I have to show it all to him if I want his spirits to lift.
The beginning of summer offers us a bright sky and a warm weather, it is perfect for a picnic. I fear he might refuse my offer, but I have plans to make him agree to it.
When he reaches home the next day, I make the necessary preparations and, three days later, I knock on the door of his study before lunch time.
“Come in.”
I walk in and he receives me with a nice smile.
“Am I already late for luncheon?” he wonders, his eyes looking for the clock on the wall.
I shake my head no and smile.
“No, actually I would like to ask for your assistance.”
His eyebrows cock up and he stands up at once.
“Is there something wrong?”
“No,” I say, my hair brushing my face as I shake my head. “Do you think you could spare me one afternoon?”
He frowns, not close to understanding what I am talking about and I roll my thumbs, wondering if I will have enough courage to ask him to come with me.
“The weather is so fine and… Well, I wish… I wish we could picnic on the west part of the estate where the view is amazing on the river. Afterward we could take a ride on horseback for a while and come back before supper.”
As he doesn’t speak and doesn’t give me any sign of approval or disapproval, I end up shrugging.
“That is, if your work allows you. I know you are very busy…”
I look down to the floor but, when I gaze back up, he is studying the weather through the window with a critical eye.
“You are right, it is a beautiful day.”
I nod. He doesn’t add anything and I start getting self-conscious.
“It was just an idea, you don’t have to agree to it, even more so if you are obliged by your work.”
I get ready to leave the room but his voice makes me stop.
“It is a good idea,” he says softly, quickly putting his quill away and tidying up his desk. “I haven’t had much time to enjoy myself these last few weeks. I am certain it will do me a lot of good.”
His words make my heart pump faster in my chest and I smile at him, delight plain on my face.
He takes a step aside his desk and stops a few steps from me.
“I will change in better adapted clothes then.”
I nod.
“So will I. I will meet you in the hall.”
He nods in his turn and I smile at him before heading back to my room and changing into my riding clothes.
We meet in the hall a few moments later and find our saddled horses waiting for us in front of the door.
“You have been preparing this for a while, haven’t you?”
I smile as he helps me up my mount.
“I really hoped you would have agreed to accompany me,” I say, simply.
His hand lingers on mine and I look into his eyes. He smiles before letting go of me.
“Your wish has been granted it seems.”
I smile back and nod quickly.
We start off toward the west part of the estate and we dismount near a centuries-old tree. The river runs closely behind it and, from here, we have a wonderful view on the rest of the estate, the river slithering at the edges and glinting like a jewel as the sun brightly shines upon it.
I unpack the food and cloth I have taken with me and we settle down on the ground, sharing the bread and looking over the estate, our estate.
“So,” I say drinking a cup of mild wine. “Tell me about your trip. Was London the same as we left it? Did you make interesting new acquaintances?”
He reviews my face with a sudden interest and smiles widely. He tells me of London, of the agitation in Parliament, of the parties he went to and the people he met and I feel we have never had this kind of discussion. Him telling me of his doings in London makes it feel like there is more between us than a simple agreement of union, it feels like there is a connivance, like he is confiding in me and I like that he might be. As his wife, I have to be his first ally in the world, I want no more than this. Almost no more than this.
We eat, we talk, we even laugh sometimes when he tells me of some silly anecdote that happened to him in London and we spend the best time of our married life yet.
We admire the landscape for a long time before gathering our horses and going for a ride around the estate. The speed is freeing and we laugh as we race and Fabiola allows him to win, leaving no chance to my own ride.
About halfway on the way back toward the mansion, we dismount to give our horses a break and allow us to walk.
“It is so peaceful here,” I remark, noticing a few birds flying around and singing to all that might listen.
John nods and, after we have walked a few paces, he links his hands in his back.
“It is a great idea you have had, Charity, a very good idea.”
I turn to him and cock one of my eyebrows. He smiles to me and looks around.
“This afternoon on the estate ground, it was a fabulous idea.”
“Thank you,” I say, nodding.
As I think he won’t add anything, he surprises me and goes on.
“I have to ask though,” he says, deep, inquiring eyes setting over my face as he stops by my side. “Why?”
I swallow at the lump in my throat and I hope for God’s sake that the red rising to my cheeks won’t show too much or be excused on the ground of exertion. I gather my courage before I can finally speak, standing unmoving by his side and my eyes studying the heights of the trees.
“It is a beautiful day and… Well, with you being in London, we haven’t seen much of each other.”
He observes me thoughtfully and I go on.
“We have been married without much thought, I know, but I would like us to be good friends, John, even if we can’t be a couple.”
I look back at him and he seems surprised.
“Even if we can’t be a couple?” he repeats.
I nod, probably too eagerly to be polite.
“Your heart is set on another,” I say softly. “I don’t blame you, you can be assured of that! No, I only hope we can be good for each other in every other way. Being friends and sharing another form of love, a friendly form of love and mutual respect.”
He reflects for a minute and we resume our stroll, the mansion getting closer with each step.
“I don’t think we got married without much thought.”
I look him on the side and frown.
“You don’t?”
“No,” he says, shaking his head. “I wanted to marry you. It wasn’t an impulse nor an obligation to me. Was it not the same for you?”
He stops again and it forces me to a halt and to turn to him. I nod.
“Yes, I wanted to marry you too. I think I didn’t use the right words before, what I meant was we didn’t marry with much thoughts of love.”
He details my face for a long time and my discomfort grows. Finally, he resumes his walk and I look at the ground.
“Are we not already good friends, Charity? I thought we were.”
His words are close to breaking my heart. I nod while I swallow at the lump in my throat.
“Yes, I believe we are. At least now, maybe not at first.”
We reach the last massive oak tree before the green, spotless lawn and he stops abruptly. I stop next to him and detail his face.
“I have missed you a great deal when I was in London,” he says and my heart starts thumping in my chest.
He turns to me and takes my hand in his.
“Thank you for this afternoon, it was all I might have hoped for and more.”
I smile and shake my head.
“You don’t have to thank me. It was a beautiful day and you needed the fresh air after your time in London.”
He nods but his eyes lock with mine and he doesn’t move, doesn’t speak, doesn’t flinch. His palm cinching mine is warm and it feels like a silky glove except he isn’t wearing any.
“I like spending time with you, Charity. Not because you are my wife, but because you are… you.”
My lips part to answer but no sound comes out. I detail his face and I don’t find any hint of lie in it. I nod and smile in gratefulness, but he doesn’t release my hand. He keeps me unmoving, his gaze detailing my eyes and time becoming unimportant.
When his other hand cups my cheek and he walks closer to me, I lose my breath. I want to take a step back, head back inside the mansion to forbid my heart to leap in my chest at his touch. His smell of cologne, I have missed it so…
I close my eyes when he brushes his nose to mine and we remain still for a moment. I don’t know what to do, what to think, what to expect. I inhale a deep breath hoping it might bring me some balance but it is hopeless.
His nose caresses mine and, after a few minutes, his lips find mine.
He kisses me and this has nothing to do with the kiss on our wedding day. This is a real kiss, his lips are moving against mine, his fingers on my cheek are keeping me locked in his grip—keeping me close—, and I lean in against my better judgment.
His hand releases mine and runs up my arm to stop on my shoulder while mine rest on his chest. I lose all sensations in my body but his lips hypnotize me. Our kiss lingers and, after some time, he pulls back and sighs deeply, his forehead resting against mine.
I believe he is about to draw back, but his arms close around me as his nose brushes mine and when his mouth presses on mine again, our kiss is different than a minute ago. His lips are fierce, his fingers dig at my waist, and when he caresses his tongue to my lower lip, a wave of heat flashes across my body.
I open my mouth for him and he makes his way in, his tongue finding mine shyly and his taste filling my mouth. I wince as he loses his hand in my hair and my hands on his chest cramp, I want him closer to me. I love how close he is, how good kissing him makes me feel, but I would want him even closer.
He kisses me passionately, ardently, and I lose myself in this kiss, my tongue answering his, my lips meeting his with the same ardor and my hands jumping to his cheeks to cup his face.
I don’t know how long it lasts, but I want it to be never ending. When he pulls back, his breath short and mine even shorter, he draws faint kisses to my lips before our foreheads meet. I inhale a deep breath and, slowly coming back to my senses, I let my hands fall to his chest.
It serves as the cue to have us both open back our eyes and we stand a long moment gazing at each other. When, finally, we step back and resume our walk to the mansion, I can’t help a breach forming in the shield of glass protecting my heart. A smile on my lips, a warmth I have never known fills me and I want to spend the rest of my life kissing my husband.
Chapter 6
John
Some things are not explainable and some are. I realize that as I go down the stairs for breakfast.
After I kissed Charity like a schoolboy having no thought for decency under the oak tree, we have grown closer. We talk a lot, we laugh together and I feel a nice, soothing warmth in my heart when I am by her sides.
The other night, when we were in the library after supper, I offered her the book I got for her in London and I had to fight with all my might against my strong desire to kiss her again deeply.
Her cute face calls to me, her lips seem to compel me to kiss her and I fight as much as I can my raw instinct. I wouldn’t have believed I could have enjoyed kissing her so much. Somehow, I had started to believe she was to be only a good companion to me, not much more, but when she said the words herself, saying we couldn’t be a couple, I realized it wasn’t what I wanted.
A very strange feeling nuzzles my heart and I have a hard time knowing what it might be. My attraction for my wife is challenged by something else, something that forces me to set limits to the level of affection I can show her.
The more I spend time with Charity, the more I want to kiss her, hold her, take her, but I don’t allow myself to pursue that end. Her gaze on me tells me I might make an offer she would be willing to accept but my own mind is forbidding me to make such proposals.
We break our fast in the dining room and she tells me of Lady Harengton’s new house in town. She had her for tea last week and Charity tells me we might add some rose bushes in the garden to make it look even prettier. I smile and nod, ready to agree to all of her requests. I feel I owe her, I don’t know why. I want to please her and see her smile, it happens more and more these days and I find myself captivated by her face and smiling lips.
“I don’t think they would require that much care, Lady Harengton seemed to say that hers gave no trouble at all to her gardener.”
She wets her lips in her cup and flashes a smile at me. I smile back.
“If you want them you shall have them,” I declare and she purses her lips. “I don’t think it will trouble Mr. Carter much to tend to a few more bushes.”
She nods and her ravishing smile makes me look down at my plate. I can feel my face flushing because of the desire to kiss her and I don’t want to let it show.
Some mail reaches us as breakfast is getting to an end and Charity reads the letter addressed to her.
“Oh, this is so kind of her!”
“What is it?”
“Lady Harengton, she is inviting us to a party this next Thursday. She says it is to enjoy the best lights of summer.”
“I see.”
“Can we go, John? I would really like for us to go, I am sure it would be amazing. She is such a kind woman and I’ll be able to show you the roses I talked to you about.”
I study her face for a second before nodding.
“If you want to, I don’t see why not. We haven’t gone to a party since before I left for London.”
She nods quickly and we leave the dining room, me heading out for some business in the neighborhood and Charity going to the stables to check on the horses before taking a short ride for fun.
The answer to the invitation is sent quickly and Charity tells me how pleased she is during supper and through our time in the library. She loses herself in a book a few minutes afterward and I go back my correspondences.
She yawns and stands up when the clock shows midnight. She reaches the bookshelf and tries to put the book on the highest shelf but it is too high for her. It makes me smirk but I stand up and walk to her. I help her set the book higher and, before she can walk away, I close my arms around her waist.
I feel her tensing before relaxing away, her back leaning against my chest as I lose my nose in her hair. She smells so good, fresh soap and vanilla and her own delicate odor, it is the perfect perfume to my nostrils. Her hands join mine on her middle and she sighs, her fingers softly brushing over my hands. I close my eyes and I know she is doing just the same, this proximity, this closeness with her is everything I need, it’s sweet and perfect, a balm to my heart.
I caress my nose to her ear and kiss her earlobe and it makes her laugh. I turn her around to look at her face and she smiles with so much kindness that I can’t stop my instincts, I bring my lips closer to hers and fuse our mouths.
Her soft tongue swirling around mine, I love how kissing her creates waves of heat throughout my body and makes my blood run faster in my veins. Her hands jump up to cup my face and I press my fingers to her lower back, holding her close, keeping her here, with me, where there is only us.
I feel the fire burning inside me making me reckless and my arms tighten so much around her I fear I might be crushing her but she doesn’t pull back, doesn’t stop. She kisses me back with an equal ardor and
I feel the passion making her daring, her fingers firming, her mouth growing more demanding, each and every single one of my kisses met with the same abandoned need.
It might soon become too much for me to take, too much before I might want to kiss her face, her neck, her breasts… I need to pull back and step away, now before it is too late.
I pull back reluctantly and we are both breathless, our noses dancing together as we smile and try to catch up our breath. I press my forehead to hers and cup her face.
“You are beautiful, Charity,” I say as I admire her at length.
Red colors her cheeks and she blinks, trying to leave my gaze. It makes me smile in my turn and I draw a faint kiss to her lips. Soft, quiet, undemanding.
I release her and take a step back. I grab her hand and bring her knuckles to my lips.
“Good night, Charity.”
She shivers at the touch of my lips and she fights for her eyes not to close. She nods and I give her back her hand. For a second, she observes me and stands unmoving in front of me.
“Good night, John.”
One word. It would take me only one word to become her husband in more than in name, I know it from the look in her eyes. She wants me to be more to her, she needs me to be more and I feel I might soon decide in favor of it. I would love joining her bed but I have to free myself of other feelings first. I want to be only hers when I am with her, not feel my heart might belong to someone else.
The following Thursday, we get ready to go to the Harengton household. I kiss her on the cheek as we get into the carriage and she laughs. We talk happily until we reach the impressive mansion of Lord and Lady Harengton ten miles away.
“It is incredible, is it not?” asks Charity.
I nod, presenting her with my arm to take.
“It is,” I admit.
“Wait until you see the garden, it is sumptuous.”
A smile appears on my lips and I observe her face.
“I have no doubt about it. If it could convince you, I’m sure it is worth it.”
