His wife always licked her lips when roast game hen was for dinner.
His wife snored lightly when she slept with her head upon his chest.
His wife loved to bathe with rose oils.
His wife pursed her lips when she read her Braithwaite books.
In the weeks since taking his vows, Sebastian’s new bride had become something of an obsession for him. It had not happened all at once, nor had it been a decision made on his part. Rather, her presence in his bed, at his dinner table, left him unable to focus on anything else of greater importance.
This very morning, for instance, they sat at the breakfast table. She spoke with a clear, commanding tone, and all he could see was the way that some of her black hair had escaped her bun and fallen around her face.
“...and I shall be back in plenty of time for dinner.”
Sebastian blinked. Augusta looked at him expectantly.
“I am sorry?” he said. “I apologize, I am thinking through a bit of a fog this morning.”
“Quite alright,” Augusta said, rushing to reassure him as she always did. Not once, thus far, had she chided him when he became lost while gazing into her eyes. He hoped she never did. “I was simply saying that I will be going on an outing with Ginny today. I did not want you to miss my presence if you came looking for me.”
What she did not know - what Sebastian would never tell her out loud - was that he came looking for her covertly nearly every afternoon. The servants, he was certain, were growing tired of the sentence, “Have you seen my wife?”
“Of course. Take a servant with you, if you need.”
She showed him the small, subdued smile that Sebastian had become intimately acquainted with. “I shall have Milly, I believe that will be enough. And I will be back before dinner.”
“Good. I shall work in my study until then, please come find me when you return.”
“I would never dream of missing my ‘welcome home’ kiss, my dear.”
Those loose pieces of hair. Why were they so entrancing?
*****
Sebastian was still entranced hours later, as he sat in his study going over finances. His household was now largely free of debt, and he had instead moved on to managing their money with responsible investments. It was terribly boring work, and seemed far less important than thinking of the curve of his wife's backside as she slept in bed next to him each night.
It was around half-one that his fantasizing was rudely interrupted by a caller. Bancroft, no less.
“You’d better have a good reason to join me,” he chided in jest as Bancroft entered, snicking the door shut behind him. “I amafraid I am most intolerable these days.”
Bancroft raised a brow as he passed by the desk and went straight for a bottle of whisky nearby. “And why is that?”
“I seem to do nothing but smile and be in good humor.”
“Ah,” Bancroft said in understanding as he poured himself a glass. “Thatisquite intolerable. Lucky for you, you are my friend, and I shall stick out this trying time.” After taking a swig, he added, “Speaking of which, whereisyour new wife? I did not see her on my way in.”
“She is at Miss Greene’s. They call on one another several times a week, actually. It is…sweet.” He could not help the jovial lilt in his voice as he spoke.
The open curiosity in Bancroft’s face gave way to a grimace.
“Oh God,” he groaned. “I know that insipid expression on your face. You’re in love, aren’t you?”
If Sebastian had had any notions of attempting to deny the allegations, the damned smile on his face would have easily given him away. Therefore, he only nodded.
“Yes, I am afraid.”
Bancroft only managed to hide his grimace by the rolling of his eyes. “Well, I fear that I may become ill if we remain on the subject, so let us move along. Will you still be at the dinner Friday evening?”
Ah, yes. The dinner. In all of the dramatics of wooing Augusta and marrying her and, perhaps a bit out of order, falling in love with her, Sebastian had largely forgotten his prior commitments. Nothing ever seemed quite important enough to make him leave his marriage bed in the mornings, nor enticing enough to keep him from it at night.
