Thames thought back over his honeymoon. It had been far better than he ever could have imagined. He could hardly believe his luck.
For one thing, Frella's virginity. Despite the promise that his bride would be delivered to him chaste and pure, he had his doubts. He even thought it possible that he might be stuck raising a babe that wasn't his. He had kept his silence. He would have pretended he thought the babe his. He figured the girl had been through enough. And then to find out she truly is a virgin? A wife his and only his? Having never belonged to another man? It was like finding a pot of gold.
Then there was the fishing. Now a wife ain't likely to keep a man from fishing. Many would join right in, provided they aren't nobility. But on her honeymoon? When Frella caught him trying to sneak out to fish, he thought himself to be a sorry soul indeed. Shame on him for spoiling it for her. She hadn't been angry...or even hurt. She joined him and was right happy to do so.
Thames thought a young woman like Frella would be none to eager to share a bed with an old man like him. He thought she wouldn't be willing to do any more than sleep by his side. As his wife he was determined to consummate the marriage by the end of the honeymoon. He had not looked forward to all the coaxing that would require. She had slept by his side as chaste as expected.
Indeed, she had not lain with him once in the bridal bed. She had not kept him at a distance though. Nor did she need coaxing to lay with him.
If she sensed a flicker of lust on his part she would walk over to the rug and lay with him there on the floor.
She didn't feel the need to hide below blankets...though she didn't seem to see the need to do more than lift her skirts either. He was dying for a good look at her. He could not complain, nary a bit. Nor did he feel he could ask her for more. She already gave more than most wives give husbands, or at least so he guessed.
He remembered the first time she'd struggled below him when he tried to lay with her. He had rolled off, ashamed. Why would she want to lay with him? He was naught but an old man. He had been mistaken. She hadn't been trying to fight him off. She quickly showed him she had something else on her mind.
Some men he supposed would not allow this. A woman, taking the man's spot, conquering him. Thames found himself only too glad to be conquered.
She had given herself to him in ways that had never crossed his mind.
And then came the end of their stay in the mountains. Frella became sad. Not just sad...something deeper.
Thames approached the carriage, sobered by his wife's disposition.
He sat across from his wife. His heart jolted to look at her.
The carriage rolled away, and still she did not look up.
"Are ye sad to be leaving?"
"What? Oh, yes. I had a lovely time."
"Frella....are ye upset 'cause it hit ye that ye are married to me? I ain't naught but an old man..."
A tear slowly rolled down her cheek.
"I'm sorry Frella."
"I'm not sorry to be with ye Thames."
Another tear, this time on her other cheek.
"Frella..."
"I didn't give ye what ye wanted."
"Frella, ye gave me everything I wanted and more," Thames had said in surprise.
"Not what ye really wanted, why ye married me."
Thames had gone quite silent then. He'd be damned if he'd tell her he'd married her as a favor to her da.
"What is it ye think I want?"
"Just this morning..."
What? What fool thing did I do this morning?
"I..I..I have no babe in me belly," she said in a rush.
"Oh Frella," he said, moving to the bench next to her. "Ye don't need to give me a babe to make me a happy man."
She'd sobbed then, oh how she had sobbed. He'd gathered her in his arms and let her cry herself to sleep.
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