Chocolate 29, White Chocolate 18 [Divide and Rule]
Title: Fine Print
Author: lost_spook
Story: Heroes of the Revolution (Divide and Rule)
Flavor(s): Chocolate #29 (relief), White Chocolate #18 (anxiety)
Toppings/Extras: Cherry, Malt - Birthday prompt (I've left my past, it's lying at the door/ I've left my suitcase lying on the floor - Tonight I stay With You, by Texas, from ichthusfish).
Rating: Teen
Word Count: 3063
Notes: July 1949, Edward Iveson/Julia Graves. (Cherry for the summer challenge, for content, because getting even this near to a love scene kills me.)
Summary: Getting married was the easy part; it’s everything else that’s complicated…
***
Edward drove the car along the road, occasionally stealing glances at Julia sitting beside him in the passenger seat. She remained there, no matter how many times he checked. Glad as he was over that, he was also beginning to panic. He’d planned everything as carefully as he could, but he was starting to realise that he’d never really believed they’d get this far, not even after she met him to catch the boat. The main thing, he’d told himself, was to get Julia back to England, away from Paris. Things were becoming rapidly unsafe there and he hadn’t wanted to leave her behind again. The last time, in Berlin, he’d been a stranger, and there had been nothing he could do.
He still couldn’t, in all honesty, find anything to justify that as a reason to propose to her. Really, it had only been an excuse to do what he wanted. The thing was, he didn’t think Julia would have taken his offer of help any other way - he’d felt instinctively that she also needed an excuse to do what she wanted. And so, he’d told himself that once they got back to England, Julia would naturally shy away from the agreement - go back to her own relatives, or at least delay the ceremony. She hadn’t, and they’d been married not much over an hour ago and now he was shifting between triumph and terror at the fact. Why on earth had she gone through with it? What did they do now? They both knew she was merely honouring the agreement, whereas he was fast falling in love with her. That had to be a recipe for disaster by anyone’s standards.
Over the past ten years and more, almost everyone he knew had said to him at some point that he should marry again. A few had added a rider about being more careful this time round. They were right, of course, and Edward was cautious by nature, so it shouldn’t have been difficult, except it turned out that it was. He risked yet another glance at Julia, wondering what she was thinking.
“Oh, Edward,” said Julia suddenly, turning her head towards him. “Stop the car -”
Edward, on edge, slammed on the brakes, bringing them to an unwise emergency stop, winding up half on the grass verge.
“I was going to say,” said Julia, after a breathless pause, “when you see somewhere to pull over, if you would. But, er, thank you, Edward.”
He looked over at her. “Well, there wasn’t anything else around.”
“It’s only that I thought of something,” said Julia, “and I know it’ll seem silly, but if you wouldn’t mind -” She stopped, getting out of the car without waiting for him to make it round to let her out. By the time he did, she was shaking herself.
He raised his eyebrows in alarm, and then glanced around to check that nobody else was nearby. “Julia -”
“I’m sorry,” she said, “but Amy put confetti down my neck and it’s been annoying me for the past twenty minutes. There, I think that’s done. And, you see, that was when I thought of it - she was trying to make things normal for us, wasn’t she? And I expect it’s a nice hotel, and you see - well, if you would look at the suitcases -”
Edward stared at her. It all seemed such a world away from his panicked thoughts that he couldn’t even begin to understand what she was getting at. “The suitcases?”
“If you would,” said Julia. “Please.”
Edward rounded the end of the car to open the boot, and Julia joined him, cautiously opening her suitcase, only for more confetti to be caught by the wind and carried onto the road and into the boot.
“I thought as much,” Julia said. “And I didn’t want to do this outside the hotel, or get this everywhere when we did arrive. Had you better check yours, do you think?”
Edward thought that the hotel would be bound to have had this happen before, and was certainly a better place for it than the edge of the road, but he obliged nonetheless. He lifted the lid of his case cautiously, and ran a hand through the folded clothes, stopping suddenly at something he definitely hadn’t packed.
“What is it?” Julia asked, seeing his reaction.
Edward held up an old horseshoe.
“Oh!” said Julia, and laughed so much that she had to catch hold of his arm to save herself from sitting in the road in her white dress. Edward had to laugh, too, mostly at Julia’s helpless amusement.
Edward shook his head. “What was she thinking?”
“For luck, of course,” said Julia. “Although -” She broke down laughing again.
Edward closed his case again, the horseshoe cast into the boot. “Aren’t they usually more - well, decorative these days?”
“I don’t suppose Amy had anything like that to hand,” said Julia. She looked up at him. “I’m sure it’ll go nicely over the door of your house in London.”
He thought about correcting ‘your house’ to ‘our house’ but since she hadn’t even seen it yet, he didn’t. He should have gone with her into town, and shown her around it, he realised. There was no reason why he hadn’t, except he hadn’t thought of it. He shook himself and set out to examine the car more closely, just in case Amy had tried anything else.
“Yes,” said Julia, evidently having no trouble in interpreting his actions. “I was wondering about that, but she doesn’t seem to have -”
Edward held up the dirty and torn half of a ribbon he’d found tied to the bumper. “I did think that I heard a noise, but it stopped almost immediately. I suppose we left something quite a long way back.” He straightened himself and fished for his handkerchief to wipe his hands. “I told her it was all going to be as quiet as possible - just the immediate family - no fuss -”
“She was being kind,” said Julia, looking up at him with a smile. “And it’s probably as well, you know. Don’t you think we need all the luck we can get?”
He turned his head to her, and thought that Julia, standing there, smiling in the sunshine, was just dazzling. He caught his breath for a moment, but then merely held his hand out for her suitcase, and then shut it back in the boot. They were making more than enough of a spectacle of themselves on a public thoroughfare as it was.
The incident had broken through the awkward silence, but Edward’s panic hadn’t entirely subsided. He supposed it was only fair: Julia had evidently had a moment of fright during the ceremony. She’d hung onto his arm too tightly for nearly ten minutes, and all she’d said was something about how it had felt like lying. He wondered again what he should make of that, if anything.
She’d cornered him last night and made him admit to his feelings for her, leaving him suddenly at a disadvantage. It couldn’t ever not be important, she’d said, and she was right, of course. This afternoon, too late, he could only agree. She’d asked him straight out when he fell in love with her, as if she could see through all of his excuses already. He’d tried to edge round it, unsure how to quantify it even to himself yet. There were moments, though, he thought, when you saw something or someone, or a place, and were seized by the conviction that you wanted whatever it was in your life; sometimes it was something as small as a book, or a play. It had been that way with Julia, except that first meeting had been a short and painful interview after which he’d never expected to see her again, or dared to hope that she would want to talk to him again if he did. He’d spotted her afterwards in Berlin, and he’d looked for her when he came back to London just in case, but otherwise, that was all it was - an idea to be pushed out of his mind, if with some regret.
When he’d met her again in Paris, it had been obvious why she’d approached him, and that should have been an end of it, except he’d been unable to resist making use of the opportunity to meet her again, and that had led to his proposal. Good God, Edward thought in dismay, he’d behaved appallingly and simply avoided thinking about it too hard until the deed was done.
He looked across at her again. She was picking one last stray piece of Amy’s confetti from her skirt, and he thought, suddenly, that he refused to be sorry.
Julia glanced up, catching his look, and as he hurriedly turned his attention back to the road, said quietly, “Edward. Please. It will be all right.”
He drew in his breath to try and lie, and then stopped himself. “I wasn’t -” He coloured. “I think it’s like you at the register office earlier - suddenly catching up with the reality of it. The arrangement, I should say - please don’t take that the wrong way.”
“I won’t,” said Julia, with a smile. “I feel so sure that it will all work out. I just do. I don’t know why.”
Edward had to smile, too. “Must be Amy’s horseshoe. It is fairly hefty as lucky charms go, after all. That must count for something.”
“Yes,” said Julia, and then added, with a laugh: “Besides, we might as well think that rather than give up before we start. We’re stuck with each other now - much better to make the best of it!”
~0~
Julia couldn’t have said what she felt, any more than she had been able to last night. She had a lowering suspicion that was partly because she didn’t want to admit to her own selfishness. She’d wanted to leave Paris, to get back to something approaching her old, pre-war life. She’d wanted not to be alone, and to have a few comforts in her life. She’d wanted some sort of family again, and Edward was willing to give her all those things. And other than her brief feeling of alarm during the ceremony, she’d been determined ever since she landed in England to get this done as soon as she could, to make it as irrevocable as anyone could. That she’d nearly accomplished, though it wasn’t quite finished yet, she knew.
She refused to feel too guilty, though. Neither of them was trying to deceive the other. There was no reason why they couldn’t make it work. Coming out of the ceremony, she’d wanted to do everything she could to make it real, and while that feeling had faded now, she still thought it was the only way ahead for either of them. She glanced at Edward as they made their way down to dinner, and didn’t think it would be all difficult, or she wouldn’t be here. He wasn’t conventionally handsome; she’d thought that before - he was too narrow-framed to carry off his height, never quite in proportion - but it wasn’t as if he was unattractive in his own way, either.
He gave a sudden smile that illuminated his otherwise solemn features as he held out his hand to her. She took it firmly. She’d already recognised in herself a slight possessiveness, now she had someone again - she had Edward, he was hers, he’d promised that he would be in front of witnesses. It wasn’t an admirable emotion, she knew, but it was also somewhere to start, at least for tonight.
Julia felt sure that once they got back to their room, there would be another terribly awkward conversation, and determined to do something to prevent it. So, when Edward turned towards her on closing the door, and paused, opening his mouth to say something, she stretched up to kiss him instead, her fingers gripping the edge of his collar, as she pulled him down to her level.
He wasn’t awkward, after all. He drew back only fractionally, putting a hand to her cheek and said softly, “Are you sure?” When she nodded, he kissed her back with something like relief. Julia closed her eyes, owning to herself that she’d been wishing he’d do that all damn week.
Maybe, thought Julia, alternately panicking was what most newly married couples did. It wasn’t impossible, though she doubted it. She’d gone into the bathroom to get herself ready, and now, away from him, she was fighting with the clasp of her necklace that didn’t want to come undone. In here, out of the fast fading summer sunlight, she felt cold, clumsy, and wondered how reckless she had to be to place herself in the hands of a man she barely knew.
She took a deep breath, and emerged from the bathroom. “Edward,” she said.
He came over in his shirt sleeves, his tie and jacket cast off, and his cuffs hanging loose, taking in her predicament with the necklace with a smile.
“It’s always been a bit awkward,” she said breathlessly, as he reached her, momentarily putting a hand to her waist to keep her in position. “And now it seems to be completely stuck.” She shrugged, and lifted her hair out of the way for him, so he could see for himself.
He worked on the clasp, the fine chain moving lightly against her skin as he did so, his fingers brushing the back of her neck and shoulders. “Yes, yes, I see,” he said. “It is a little tricky, isn’t it?” He undid it, and then kissed the place where the clasp had been as he removed it.
“Thank you,” she said, and then had to fight not to colour in embarrassment at how formal she’d sounded - she might as well have written a note.
Edward didn’t seem to notice. He gave her another smile, and dropped the light silver chain into her palm. “And the dress?” he said, tilting his head slightly to one side.
She was still wearing the wedding dress. It was relatively simple in style and a good deal nicer than her other options for evening wear, but it was also nearly thirty years old and therefore delicate, and had a run of hooks and eyes at the back. She nodded, though she thought she would have said yes, even if she hadn’t needed any help. Her panic was rapidly fading away now she was with him again.
“Julia,” he said, as he worked his way down the fastenings. “I’m trying to think how to say this, but - there’s no hurry, you know.”
Julia thought about that: she thought about instead trying to sleep in a bed next to him and holding her breath half the time, not daring to move. She thought about all the other awkward conversations they might have, and she also thought, with a laugh that she couldn’t quite keep back - blame a combination of nerves and champagne - about how different this was from the last time she’d been intimate with anyone. (That had been hasty and in secret, in an uncomfortable location with as few clothes removed as they could get away with, on both occasions. And Michael had always had such trouble remembering her name.)
“Julia?” said Edward, halting and trying to move his head to look at her face, not easy from that angle.
She closed her eyes, and tried to joke, though her voice was a little unsteady. “Well, I’m not sure that’s very complimentary.”
“My God - Julia!” He halted where he was in his obvious indignation. “I think you know exactly what I meant.”
She bit her lip. “I’m sorry. Edward, it isn’t that, it’s only - well - can we just - just -” Julia caught her breath. “Amy was trying to make everything normal for us earlier - can’t we do that, too? Pretend that we’re any other couple on their honeymoon and not -?” She waved a hand by way of finishing her incoherent attempt at an explanation. Pretend we’re not us, she finished instead, in her head. Pretend we’re not two people stupid enough to get themselves into this situation.
Edward reached the last hook, and helped her out of the dress, leaving her in her underclothes, minus the stockings which she’d already removed in the bathroom. “Happily,” he said, catching hold of her hand before she could move away again, tugging her back to face him. “You know, though, normal is terrible choice of word for anything to do with you.”
Julia gave an uncertain laugh. “I’m not sure that’s very complimentary, either.” She only looked up at him, still not having regained the nerve she seemed to have lost when she stepped out of the room. It was also an underlying mistrust of her motives that caused her to hold back, feeling in some way that she was the one taking advantage of him. She needed him to return the reassurance she’d given him earlier, or at least to guide her back to where they’d been before she’d left.
She didn’t know if he understood, but he saw her hesitation, and put his free hand to her face, stroking her cheek with his thumb, then releasing her hand to grasp her shoulder, he kissed her lightly but deliberately, and again, until she moved in nearer, beginning to feel a more pleasurable unsteadiness. She caught hold of him, her fingers gripping the edge of his shirt, her thumb resting against his chest, feeling his heartbeat quickening under her touch.
Edward moved his hand away from her face, down to her waist; she felt his touch through the thin material of the petticoat, before he helped her remove it, drawing her nearer to the bed as he did so, sitting as they reached the edge of it. He kissed her again, and she slid her arms around his neck, running her fingers through his hair.
It would be all right, she thought again, surer still this time, though there wasn’t the leisure to say it aloud now, as she closed her eyes and let instinct take over, burying her worries. It would work out, she just knew it would. She didn’t let herself think any further - that it must, or what would become of them?
***
Author: lost_spook
Story: Heroes of the Revolution (Divide and Rule)
Flavor(s): Chocolate #29 (relief), White Chocolate #18 (anxiety)
Toppings/Extras: Cherry, Malt - Birthday prompt (I've left my past, it's lying at the door/ I've left my suitcase lying on the floor - Tonight I stay With You, by Texas, from ichthusfish).
Rating: Teen
Word Count: 3063
Notes: July 1949, Edward Iveson/Julia Graves. (Cherry for the summer challenge, for content, because getting even this near to a love scene kills me.)
Summary: Getting married was the easy part; it’s everything else that’s complicated…
***
Edward drove the car along the road, occasionally stealing glances at Julia sitting beside him in the passenger seat. She remained there, no matter how many times he checked. Glad as he was over that, he was also beginning to panic. He’d planned everything as carefully as he could, but he was starting to realise that he’d never really believed they’d get this far, not even after she met him to catch the boat. The main thing, he’d told himself, was to get Julia back to England, away from Paris. Things were becoming rapidly unsafe there and he hadn’t wanted to leave her behind again. The last time, in Berlin, he’d been a stranger, and there had been nothing he could do.
He still couldn’t, in all honesty, find anything to justify that as a reason to propose to her. Really, it had only been an excuse to do what he wanted. The thing was, he didn’t think Julia would have taken his offer of help any other way - he’d felt instinctively that she also needed an excuse to do what she wanted. And so, he’d told himself that once they got back to England, Julia would naturally shy away from the agreement - go back to her own relatives, or at least delay the ceremony. She hadn’t, and they’d been married not much over an hour ago and now he was shifting between triumph and terror at the fact. Why on earth had she gone through with it? What did they do now? They both knew she was merely honouring the agreement, whereas he was fast falling in love with her. That had to be a recipe for disaster by anyone’s standards.
Over the past ten years and more, almost everyone he knew had said to him at some point that he should marry again. A few had added a rider about being more careful this time round. They were right, of course, and Edward was cautious by nature, so it shouldn’t have been difficult, except it turned out that it was. He risked yet another glance at Julia, wondering what she was thinking.
“Oh, Edward,” said Julia suddenly, turning her head towards him. “Stop the car -”
Edward, on edge, slammed on the brakes, bringing them to an unwise emergency stop, winding up half on the grass verge.
“I was going to say,” said Julia, after a breathless pause, “when you see somewhere to pull over, if you would. But, er, thank you, Edward.”
He looked over at her. “Well, there wasn’t anything else around.”
“It’s only that I thought of something,” said Julia, “and I know it’ll seem silly, but if you wouldn’t mind -” She stopped, getting out of the car without waiting for him to make it round to let her out. By the time he did, she was shaking herself.
He raised his eyebrows in alarm, and then glanced around to check that nobody else was nearby. “Julia -”
“I’m sorry,” she said, “but Amy put confetti down my neck and it’s been annoying me for the past twenty minutes. There, I think that’s done. And, you see, that was when I thought of it - she was trying to make things normal for us, wasn’t she? And I expect it’s a nice hotel, and you see - well, if you would look at the suitcases -”
Edward stared at her. It all seemed such a world away from his panicked thoughts that he couldn’t even begin to understand what she was getting at. “The suitcases?”
“If you would,” said Julia. “Please.”
Edward rounded the end of the car to open the boot, and Julia joined him, cautiously opening her suitcase, only for more confetti to be caught by the wind and carried onto the road and into the boot.
“I thought as much,” Julia said. “And I didn’t want to do this outside the hotel, or get this everywhere when we did arrive. Had you better check yours, do you think?”
Edward thought that the hotel would be bound to have had this happen before, and was certainly a better place for it than the edge of the road, but he obliged nonetheless. He lifted the lid of his case cautiously, and ran a hand through the folded clothes, stopping suddenly at something he definitely hadn’t packed.
“What is it?” Julia asked, seeing his reaction.
Edward held up an old horseshoe.
“Oh!” said Julia, and laughed so much that she had to catch hold of his arm to save herself from sitting in the road in her white dress. Edward had to laugh, too, mostly at Julia’s helpless amusement.
Edward shook his head. “What was she thinking?”
“For luck, of course,” said Julia. “Although -” She broke down laughing again.
Edward closed his case again, the horseshoe cast into the boot. “Aren’t they usually more - well, decorative these days?”
“I don’t suppose Amy had anything like that to hand,” said Julia. She looked up at him. “I’m sure it’ll go nicely over the door of your house in London.”
He thought about correcting ‘your house’ to ‘our house’ but since she hadn’t even seen it yet, he didn’t. He should have gone with her into town, and shown her around it, he realised. There was no reason why he hadn’t, except he hadn’t thought of it. He shook himself and set out to examine the car more closely, just in case Amy had tried anything else.
“Yes,” said Julia, evidently having no trouble in interpreting his actions. “I was wondering about that, but she doesn’t seem to have -”
Edward held up the dirty and torn half of a ribbon he’d found tied to the bumper. “I did think that I heard a noise, but it stopped almost immediately. I suppose we left something quite a long way back.” He straightened himself and fished for his handkerchief to wipe his hands. “I told her it was all going to be as quiet as possible - just the immediate family - no fuss -”
“She was being kind,” said Julia, looking up at him with a smile. “And it’s probably as well, you know. Don’t you think we need all the luck we can get?”
He turned his head to her, and thought that Julia, standing there, smiling in the sunshine, was just dazzling. He caught his breath for a moment, but then merely held his hand out for her suitcase, and then shut it back in the boot. They were making more than enough of a spectacle of themselves on a public thoroughfare as it was.
The incident had broken through the awkward silence, but Edward’s panic hadn’t entirely subsided. He supposed it was only fair: Julia had evidently had a moment of fright during the ceremony. She’d hung onto his arm too tightly for nearly ten minutes, and all she’d said was something about how it had felt like lying. He wondered again what he should make of that, if anything.
She’d cornered him last night and made him admit to his feelings for her, leaving him suddenly at a disadvantage. It couldn’t ever not be important, she’d said, and she was right, of course. This afternoon, too late, he could only agree. She’d asked him straight out when he fell in love with her, as if she could see through all of his excuses already. He’d tried to edge round it, unsure how to quantify it even to himself yet. There were moments, though, he thought, when you saw something or someone, or a place, and were seized by the conviction that you wanted whatever it was in your life; sometimes it was something as small as a book, or a play. It had been that way with Julia, except that first meeting had been a short and painful interview after which he’d never expected to see her again, or dared to hope that she would want to talk to him again if he did. He’d spotted her afterwards in Berlin, and he’d looked for her when he came back to London just in case, but otherwise, that was all it was - an idea to be pushed out of his mind, if with some regret.
When he’d met her again in Paris, it had been obvious why she’d approached him, and that should have been an end of it, except he’d been unable to resist making use of the opportunity to meet her again, and that had led to his proposal. Good God, Edward thought in dismay, he’d behaved appallingly and simply avoided thinking about it too hard until the deed was done.
He looked across at her again. She was picking one last stray piece of Amy’s confetti from her skirt, and he thought, suddenly, that he refused to be sorry.
Julia glanced up, catching his look, and as he hurriedly turned his attention back to the road, said quietly, “Edward. Please. It will be all right.”
He drew in his breath to try and lie, and then stopped himself. “I wasn’t -” He coloured. “I think it’s like you at the register office earlier - suddenly catching up with the reality of it. The arrangement, I should say - please don’t take that the wrong way.”
“I won’t,” said Julia, with a smile. “I feel so sure that it will all work out. I just do. I don’t know why.”
Edward had to smile, too. “Must be Amy’s horseshoe. It is fairly hefty as lucky charms go, after all. That must count for something.”
“Yes,” said Julia, and then added, with a laugh: “Besides, we might as well think that rather than give up before we start. We’re stuck with each other now - much better to make the best of it!”
~0~
Julia couldn’t have said what she felt, any more than she had been able to last night. She had a lowering suspicion that was partly because she didn’t want to admit to her own selfishness. She’d wanted to leave Paris, to get back to something approaching her old, pre-war life. She’d wanted not to be alone, and to have a few comforts in her life. She’d wanted some sort of family again, and Edward was willing to give her all those things. And other than her brief feeling of alarm during the ceremony, she’d been determined ever since she landed in England to get this done as soon as she could, to make it as irrevocable as anyone could. That she’d nearly accomplished, though it wasn’t quite finished yet, she knew.
She refused to feel too guilty, though. Neither of them was trying to deceive the other. There was no reason why they couldn’t make it work. Coming out of the ceremony, she’d wanted to do everything she could to make it real, and while that feeling had faded now, she still thought it was the only way ahead for either of them. She glanced at Edward as they made their way down to dinner, and didn’t think it would be all difficult, or she wouldn’t be here. He wasn’t conventionally handsome; she’d thought that before - he was too narrow-framed to carry off his height, never quite in proportion - but it wasn’t as if he was unattractive in his own way, either.
He gave a sudden smile that illuminated his otherwise solemn features as he held out his hand to her. She took it firmly. She’d already recognised in herself a slight possessiveness, now she had someone again - she had Edward, he was hers, he’d promised that he would be in front of witnesses. It wasn’t an admirable emotion, she knew, but it was also somewhere to start, at least for tonight.
Julia felt sure that once they got back to their room, there would be another terribly awkward conversation, and determined to do something to prevent it. So, when Edward turned towards her on closing the door, and paused, opening his mouth to say something, she stretched up to kiss him instead, her fingers gripping the edge of his collar, as she pulled him down to her level.
He wasn’t awkward, after all. He drew back only fractionally, putting a hand to her cheek and said softly, “Are you sure?” When she nodded, he kissed her back with something like relief. Julia closed her eyes, owning to herself that she’d been wishing he’d do that all damn week.
Maybe, thought Julia, alternately panicking was what most newly married couples did. It wasn’t impossible, though she doubted it. She’d gone into the bathroom to get herself ready, and now, away from him, she was fighting with the clasp of her necklace that didn’t want to come undone. In here, out of the fast fading summer sunlight, she felt cold, clumsy, and wondered how reckless she had to be to place herself in the hands of a man she barely knew.
She took a deep breath, and emerged from the bathroom. “Edward,” she said.
He came over in his shirt sleeves, his tie and jacket cast off, and his cuffs hanging loose, taking in her predicament with the necklace with a smile.
“It’s always been a bit awkward,” she said breathlessly, as he reached her, momentarily putting a hand to her waist to keep her in position. “And now it seems to be completely stuck.” She shrugged, and lifted her hair out of the way for him, so he could see for himself.
He worked on the clasp, the fine chain moving lightly against her skin as he did so, his fingers brushing the back of her neck and shoulders. “Yes, yes, I see,” he said. “It is a little tricky, isn’t it?” He undid it, and then kissed the place where the clasp had been as he removed it.
“Thank you,” she said, and then had to fight not to colour in embarrassment at how formal she’d sounded - she might as well have written a note.
Edward didn’t seem to notice. He gave her another smile, and dropped the light silver chain into her palm. “And the dress?” he said, tilting his head slightly to one side.
She was still wearing the wedding dress. It was relatively simple in style and a good deal nicer than her other options for evening wear, but it was also nearly thirty years old and therefore delicate, and had a run of hooks and eyes at the back. She nodded, though she thought she would have said yes, even if she hadn’t needed any help. Her panic was rapidly fading away now she was with him again.
“Julia,” he said, as he worked his way down the fastenings. “I’m trying to think how to say this, but - there’s no hurry, you know.”
Julia thought about that: she thought about instead trying to sleep in a bed next to him and holding her breath half the time, not daring to move. She thought about all the other awkward conversations they might have, and she also thought, with a laugh that she couldn’t quite keep back - blame a combination of nerves and champagne - about how different this was from the last time she’d been intimate with anyone. (That had been hasty and in secret, in an uncomfortable location with as few clothes removed as they could get away with, on both occasions. And Michael had always had such trouble remembering her name.)
“Julia?” said Edward, halting and trying to move his head to look at her face, not easy from that angle.
She closed her eyes, and tried to joke, though her voice was a little unsteady. “Well, I’m not sure that’s very complimentary.”
“My God - Julia!” He halted where he was in his obvious indignation. “I think you know exactly what I meant.”
She bit her lip. “I’m sorry. Edward, it isn’t that, it’s only - well - can we just - just -” Julia caught her breath. “Amy was trying to make everything normal for us earlier - can’t we do that, too? Pretend that we’re any other couple on their honeymoon and not -?” She waved a hand by way of finishing her incoherent attempt at an explanation. Pretend we’re not us, she finished instead, in her head. Pretend we’re not two people stupid enough to get themselves into this situation.
Edward reached the last hook, and helped her out of the dress, leaving her in her underclothes, minus the stockings which she’d already removed in the bathroom. “Happily,” he said, catching hold of her hand before she could move away again, tugging her back to face him. “You know, though, normal is terrible choice of word for anything to do with you.”
Julia gave an uncertain laugh. “I’m not sure that’s very complimentary, either.” She only looked up at him, still not having regained the nerve she seemed to have lost when she stepped out of the room. It was also an underlying mistrust of her motives that caused her to hold back, feeling in some way that she was the one taking advantage of him. She needed him to return the reassurance she’d given him earlier, or at least to guide her back to where they’d been before she’d left.
She didn’t know if he understood, but he saw her hesitation, and put his free hand to her face, stroking her cheek with his thumb, then releasing her hand to grasp her shoulder, he kissed her lightly but deliberately, and again, until she moved in nearer, beginning to feel a more pleasurable unsteadiness. She caught hold of him, her fingers gripping the edge of his shirt, her thumb resting against his chest, feeling his heartbeat quickening under her touch.
Edward moved his hand away from her face, down to her waist; she felt his touch through the thin material of the petticoat, before he helped her remove it, drawing her nearer to the bed as he did so, sitting as they reached the edge of it. He kissed her again, and she slid her arms around his neck, running her fingers through his hair.
It would be all right, she thought again, surer still this time, though there wasn’t the leisure to say it aloud now, as she closed her eyes and let instinct take over, burying her worries. It would work out, she just knew it would. She didn’t let herself think any further - that it must, or what would become of them?
***