After Thames kissed her, everyone applauded.
Or perhaps they had begun to applaud before that. Frella was never quite sure.
In fact, she couldn't keep her eyes off her new husband.
He was old, but he was kind. Frella would take a kind man over a young man any day. Though most any man would have been better than becoming a whore at the brothel. Whatever might come there way, she could be grateful to him for that.
"Frella, will ye be cuttin' the weddin' cake right away? Or will ye make yer groom wait?"
"There's cake?"
"Every bride deserves a cake, ye bein' no exception."
Her heart leaped with joy.
"I take it ye like cake?"
Frella could only smile and nod her head.
"When ye are ready fer the cake ye can cut it..." he hinted again.
Frella finally tore her eyes away and walked to the cake. Thames stayed close by. Frella knew it was for reason of cake, but she grateful nonetheless. She wasn't used to this big new place.
"Oh, it has flower petals on it too."
Frella put the cake on a plate, but then pulled a piece off with her own fingers. She placed it in Thames mouth, letting her fingers linger over his lips.
Her sensual movements were unconscious. She'd grown up with women who were sensual with men at all times.
She picked up a fork to finish her slice of cake, but paused to watch Thames eat the piece she'd given him.
"Thames, what makes ye so happy?"
"The cake."
Oh.
"And ye."
Frella smiled, feeling shy.
"Frella I know it's late, I hope ye ain't upset over leaving at this late hour."
"Leaving?" Frella tried to keep herself from trembling. "I....I thought...."
Thames face fell.
"Ye don't want to go Frella?"
"I don't want to leave ye," she said quietly.
"Well I would hope ye wouldn't want to be leavin' without yer groom."
Frella was confused.
"Don't ye at least want ter know where we'd go?"
Frella nodded uncertainly.
"There is a gypsy camp, up in the mountains. Not a regular sort. It's fer gypsy wantin' ter wander 'bout, not fer settlin' in. What's the fancy word the nobles use...hotel. I paid considerable money, but if ye don't want to go we can honeymoon here in me wagon..."
"Ye spent all that money on me? On a bride ye had never met? Fer a honeymoon?"
"I'm rather hurt ye'd think so lowly of me, even if I am just an old gypsy man ye jest met."
"Thames I...I jest never had anyone do such nice things fer me. I'm jest thankful if ye don't send me away when yer tired of me."
For a moment Thames looked like a broken man. He swallowed, twice. He opened his mouth to say something but no words came out.
At last he motioned for her to follow, and she did. Thames brought her to the road where a carriage waited. Thames opened the door, then helped her inside. He closed it with a soft click. As he stepped away from the carriage she thought she saw him wipe his eye, but in the dark she wasn't sure.
As Thames made his way to the other side of the carriage Frella began to feel nervous.
She plucked absently at her skirts.
Thames stepped into the carriage and shut the door. Soon the carriage was moving down the road.
"Frella, I won't send ye away. Not if ye were the worst sort of woman...and yer not. Gypsies ain't like that. I'm not like that. I wouldn't do that to ye."
Frella turned her eyes to his. Somehow her eyes must have said all she needed to say. Thames held her hand in his. Frella didn't take it back. She meant to let him hold it the whole way there.
No comments:
Post a Comment