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“What is it, Esther?” He asked. “Don’t be afraid to tell me I crossed a line I shouldn’t have.”
Covering his hand, Esther shook her head, “You’ve done nothing wrong, I just—I feel like a naïf. You—a while ago, if you did not feel it, you were my first kiss, and I—I felt as if you’d prefer someone who knew what they were doing.” Her words ended with a heavy note of self-criticism , and Esther’s eyes were down on her lap.
“You must think me banal,” she whispered.
Arthur plucked her hands up from her lap and covered them with his, but she kept her eyes down. “Will you look at me?”
Biting a corner of her lip, Esther met his eyes and saw only compassion and… pride? “I do not think you are dull, Esther, I believe that you are a lovely woman with passionate desires that you want to let out, but you have not had a way to do so.”
Disbelief washed through Esther while her hands tightened over his, “Truly?”
“Truly,” he replied. “Moreover, if I had pushed you too much tonight, I promise you that I will not do—”
“No!” Esther blushed furiously at her exclamation. “No, please, don’t stop. I do like our intimate moments, so please, don’t hold back on any…I like kissing you.”
His knuckles brushed her cheek, and Arthur’s tone was pleased, “And I love knowing that my kiss was your first. Your blush is very fetching.”
“As much as a splash of red paint on speckled china would be,” she snorted while pressing her hand to her other cheek. Dropping her hand, she smiled, “Thank you for a wonderful time, Arthur. I enjoyed it.”
“As did I,” he nodded, stood, and extended his hand. “Shall we rejoin Miss Smith?”
They went back to the first room, with tumultuous emotions battling inside Esther’s chest; she still felt ashamed about how she had kissed Arthur but felt pleased that he had overlooked her naïveté. However, what lingered under both emotions was the desire to feel more, to have more of him, to experience real pleasure, like the one she read about almost every night.
The acts Nathaniel performed on Madeline had her aching in strange ways, wanting and imagining how it would feel to mirror those acts with Arthur. But perhaps she would have to wait until marriage to feel the pleasure she knows Arthur would give her.
If by just his kiss, he had put her on the brink of shattering, how much more would it be when he touched her, sucked on her breast, kissed her body, slid his fingers inside her, and joined them as one?
Her stomach quivered with anticipation, and when they rejoined Margaret, she heeded the call for supper and went to eat. Hours later, as they were on the way to her home, Arthur exclaimed softly.
“I forgot to give you this,” he said while reaching into his jacket and pulling out a pouch, “Please, open it?”
Taking the soft pouch, Esther pulled the strings and, reaching in, took out a slender silver bracelet, that shimmered across her palm like a sliver of moonlight. “Oh, Arthur, it's beautiful.”
He took it from her, “Your hand, please.”
Extending it, she held in a breath when he circled her wrist and managed to latch the tiny clasp with his large fingers. She pulled away and saw the dangling pearl that rested right on her inner wrist. “I am speechless, Arthur, thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he said mildly. “I am glad you enjoyed tonight.”
“I’ll never forget it,” Esther assured him, as her heart threatened to break through the cage of her breastbone.
Margaret was right—this feeling of love was the reason she felt so overwhelmed by Arthur, and as she thought about it, she understood why. She was not infatuated with Arthur; she did not only love Arthur; she wasinlove with him. And it might feel silly and unbelievable to have fallen head over heels in love with him, but it was undeniable, she wanted Arthur to be the man she would spend her life with.
When the carriage came to her home’s door, Esther was hesitant in leaving, but when Arthur gently helped her out, she decided that it would be best for her to be apart from him for a while. It would not change her mind, but she needed to be extremely sure that she wanted to marry him.
He bowed to her inside the foyer, “Good night, My Lady.”
“Same to you, My Lord,” she curtsied.
Esther’s eyes lingered on his broad shoulders and powerful figure as he disappeared through the door and then turned to the grand stairs. She drifted into her room in a mist of happiness and paused to remove her coat while taking care not to snag her bracelet on the cloth.
When it was removed, she sank to the chaise and twisted her arm to examine the circlet in detail. It was so elegant and lovely that her heart turned a little; this was undeniably a romantic gesture, something Arthur had told her he was not one to profess. He had to have gone against his nature to buy this for her, which said to her that, above all, he was proving his commitment to her.
“Margaret…” she said quietly. “…I want to marry Arthur.”
***
No, please, don’t stop. I do like our intimate moments, so please, don’t hold back on any…I like kissing you.
