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She had no desire to leave the bed, and in fact, her eyelids grew heavy. Marcella felt as though she’d done something very strenuous, and the idea of curling up beside her new, lovely husband seemed like the most divine idea.
“I’m going to fetch a handkerchief, so I can wipe you clean.”
Marcelladidfeel a bit damp. She closed her thighs, a faint feeling of embarrassment overcoming her.
“Relax,” Reginald muttered.
Marcella sighed. “I am,” she said. “It’s just a strange experience. I hadn’t realized the consummation was supposed to be this enjoyable.”
Reginald squeezed her knee and winked. “I’ll be back soon, and if you’re feeling still so bold, maybe we can do this again later.”
He could’ve asked a servant for a handkerchief, but Marcella quite suspected that this was something which Reginald simply wished to do himself. Besides, it would be embarrassing to have the entire household know its purpose. It ought to be, rather. Marcella couldn’t quite make herself be embarrassed by what they’d done. In fact, she felt…conflicted.
Why was something so utterly wonderful never mentioned in literature? Why had she never been taught that the wedding nigh might present such a wondrous experience? Why, she felt as thought she’d become another woman, a better woman, in only a handful of minutes. Marcella stretched and yawned.
As loathe as I am to admit it, maybe I’ve been thinking about this all the wrong way. I still should’ve been given a choice in if I desired to marry, but maybe I also should’ve accepted the inevitability of the situation. Maybe instead of trying to avoid my fate, I should’ve been focused on how to make the best of it.
A thoughtful, unconventional husband wasn’t really the worst fate for a married woman.
She drifted into some indistinct place between sleep and wakefulness when the door slowly opened, accompanied by a faint creaking. Reginald entered, handkerchief in hand. “How do you feel?” he asked. “Are you hurt?”
She shook her head. “Not in the slightest. You were right.”
“I’m allowed to be right once a day,” he informed her.
The bed dipped when Reginald sat on it. He gently rubbed the cloth over Marcella’s thighs, wiping away the dampness with tender attention. Marcella closed her eyes and sighed. The scent of sweat and Reginald’s cologne—something with sandalwood and another spicy hint—mingled together in the air.
“Does that mean you’re wrong the rest of the time?” Marcella asked.
“Oh, yes,” Reginald replied. “I’m afraid you’ll just have to learn to discern when theonetime a day is. Are you ready to face that challenge?”
“Quite ready.”
Having finished cleaning her, Reginald placed the handkerchief spotted with blood in a nearby chair, doubtlessly to be retrieved later. Then, he returned to the bed. Marcella moved back, making room for him, and offered an encouraging smile. He lay on his side and propped himself up on his elbow. “I think it’s rare to find a lady who is both beautiful and intelligent,” he said. “I’m quite pleased to have found both in you.”
Marcella smiled and pressed her fingertips against his chest. “I don’t tend to like flattering words from gentlemen, but I think I’ll be quite happy to accept them from you.”
“I’m glad,” he replied. “It warms my heart to heart to hear that I can give you a great deal of pleasure.”
Marcella’s cheeks pinkened. “You must stop saying such things, or else every time I hear the wordpleasure,I’ll think the most inappropriate thoughts.”
“Oh, I hope you do,” Reginald replied grinning.
In fact, if the marriage continued the way it had been just moments before, Marcella thought it might be very pleasant, indeed. Perhaps, Reginald would be as accommodating outside of the bedroom as he was within it.
“It would only be fair, after all,” Reginald added, “considering all the wicked thoughts I’ve had about you.”
“Do you plan on sharing those?” Marcella asked.
“In due time.”
With a small smile, she pressed a quick kiss to his lips, and all her fears were banished to the back of her mind, at least, for a moment.
