Authors: Meredith Greene
“Zipper,” she whispered, smiling into his warm shoulder. Her breath came a little faster as William fumbled around with his fingers, trying to locate the phantom fastener; s small giggle escaped her lips. She felt so ridiculous being nervous but here they were, embarking into activities which had always been a great mystery to her.
“This is hilarious,” William chuckled, a little nervous himself. “I’m a university graduate, a lawyer, I’m madly in love with my bride, we’re here in the honeymoon suite and I cannot find your damn zipper.” Michelle giggled, sinking down to sit on the bed. William grinned, following suit. Looking at his bride, he was glad her laughter eased the tension they both felt. “Do you know... that in the little, tower reading nook in Vermont? I wanted very much to see your bare skin against all those pillows.”
As he spoke Michelle sobered, but her small, sweet smile remained. Reaching up, Michelle gently touched William’s face with her fingertips, looking fearlessly into his cerulean eyes.
“You were going to kiss me in the taxi... weren’t you, that first night… after the gallery?” she inquired; her voice was quiet, and calm. William grinned.
“Yes, before that blighter stopped the cab so suddenly,” he said; he touched the backs of Michelle’s hands, holding on to them softly. “Before you, I was always able to control myself. But, you invaded my thoughts and wouldn’t leave... not that I wanted you to. I still don’t.” His bride looked at him with shining eyes.
“That’s very good to know,” she said, softly. “I have something to tell you, too.” William chuckled, bringing her hands to be kissed, one at a time.
“What is that?” he asked, grinning down at her. Taking a deep breath, Michelle summoned her courage, taking a slow breath. The moment fairly demanded a bit of limb-walking on her part as well; she wanted to at least meet William halfway.
“The dress zipper is under the beaded embroidery, right in the center,” Michelle informed him, biting her lip and smiling.
“That, is very good to know,” William said, leaning down to kiss his bride.
Outside the cozy tower room, a cold wind blew fallen leaves in flurries amid dark forms, which in daylight looked of trees and buildings. The diamond stars shone down on the quiet castle, twinkling in the great dance they nightly stepped. The castle itself was shrouded in blackest night, but for the warm, dim light glowing in the narrow windows of the high tower room. The lights there did not go out for quite some time; they did extinguish though, only to be joined by the low sounds of even breathing and the soft sighs of two souls now joined forever in love.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
William Montgomery was in the midst of a wonderful dream. The gist of it entailed meeting a lovely girl, falling hard for her and making her his wife. He smiled in his sleep. A few moments later, his eyes opened, blinking a few times to see clearly. William felt unusually comfortable and warm. Unfamiliar blankets were piled over him. Grinning, he looked over a little to his left. Breathing peacefully on the sheet next to him, laid his bride... still fast sleep. The snowy down comforters above the reposing couple kept out the famous Scottish chill. William propped himself up a little on one elbow and studied Michelle, careful not to expose his bare skin to the biting cold outside the blankets.
The morning light was just sufficient to dimly illuminate the sleeping young woman.
“She looks so content,”
William thought, smiling to himself. Michelle’s face fairly emanated serenity; her sweet mouth bore just the hint of a smile. Her groom took a few moments to appreciate her unclothed
state, finding said scrutiny raised his body temperature another few notches. He did not mind the discomfort now; his wait was over. Michelle was now his wife.
“My wife,” William said, softly. Those words never appealed so much to him before. Michelle stirred a little in her sleep, moving closer to her husband; cuddling against him, she sighed a little and lay still once more. William chuckled. “You’re adorable, love,” he whispered. Sliding his arm around her warm back, William allowed himself a few more moments of quiet reflection. Just waking up with Michelle next to him, holding her close as she slept made him relax even more. The pre-wedding worries and fears were all forgotten.
Michelle stirred again; her eyes opened but a little at first, then all the way. Expecting a gray, spare room to wake up to, Michelle saw she was snuggled up to one very bar William. Blushing deeply, she fleetingly ran her mind over the previous evening’s events. He’d been very gentle with her, though it was obvious her bare skin had a profound effect on him. The memory made her smile.
“Are you awake yet?” came William’s voice. Pressed against him, Michelle felt his voice more than hearing it; she smiled.
“That depends,” she said, her voice very soft. Her words murmured themselves against her husband’s chest. William sucked in a slight breath; just two, sleepy words from his bride and he was a goner.
“On what?” he said back, trying to concentrate. Michelle giggled, very gently.
“Does being awake mean I have to stop touching you and get out of bed?” she asked, moving her face to she could look at her man in the eyes. Her strange, beautiful eyes sent a shiver through William’s body. His answer to her question was hardly in the negative; it was some time before they got out of bed.
Though Michelle felt very awkward, she got up along with William in the chilly tower room; William seemed to feet her nervousness and turned his back to look for his own apparel. In spite of her self-consciousness Michelle snuck a few glances at him as he put on his clothes; she loved watched his back muscles work and blushed, remembering how said muscles felt under her fingertips. Her husband studied her equally, as she pulled out some clothes from her luggage; he wished they did not need to eat or anything else, other than stay in bed for the entire rest of the day. He noticed she wore her thick black tights and the little tweed skirt; he chuckled to himself.
“Later,”
he thought.
They made the bed together. Michelle gasped a little as she pulled off the fluffy down comforters. Several drops of blood stood out in stark contrast on the bottom sheet; William grinned at her.
“Don’t worry about it, love,” he said, fondly. “They expect things like this, really.” Seeing the evidence of his wife’s innocence on the sheet made an odd kind of fire course through William. There was something very alluring about being the only one to have touched his bride. He made a mental note to ask the maid if he could purchase the bed linens. Walking around the bed to Michelle, William held her a moment and kissed the top of her head. Her hair still smelled of the fresh sheets and the warmth of their night together. “If there ever was a turn on...” he thought, smiling.
“It will leave a stain,” Michelle said into his shoulder. William smiled. He hoped so.
“It’s kind of...er ... sexy, actually,” he said, in a low voice. Michelle looked up at him, her face curious. William cleared his throat. “Well, it’s a very special kind of thing, now isn’t it? If it were up to me, I’d cut a little sample from that sheet and carry it around with me.” His bride blushed; William thought it to be the deepest, one yet.
“Oh...” she said, swallowing. Her bashful smile made William grin as well. His wife bit her lip and set about helping him smooth the sheets and fluff the pillows.
Always a stickler for propriety, William was duly impressed that Michelle knew how to neatly tuck in the sheet corners and pull the linens tight. As simple a task as making a bed, the newly joined couple exchanged endearing glances over the blankets, knowing they’d be able to work together so the rest of their lives. As much as he liked a neat bed, William was very tempted to mess it all up again.
A narrow wooden door in the great hall opened slowly; two faces peered out, smiling.
“I think the castle is still sleep, my lady...” William whispered. “Let’s slip out while we still can. I’ll carry you away from this tower to my own kingdom.” Michelle stifled her laughter; she put her hand
to her chest
in dramatic pose.
“But sir... my father will not forgive me for eloping with a stable boy...” she whispered back. William gave his bride a grin, over his shoulder.
“Stable boy, eh?” he said, “I am no stable-hand, milady. I am the evil Duke’s handsome cousin, of course. You can see my white horse right out that window...” Michelle wrinkled up her nose.
“The Duke’s cousin? That means we’re related... ew.” William grimaced at this, making Michelle laugh. The ‘Duke's handsome cousin’ grabbed his bride’s hand.
“Oh, come on, Minx,” William said, leading Michelle out the tower door. “Let’s use the map and find the kitchen. I’m starved.”
“Right behind you,” his lady said, repressing her urge to snicker. “Ok, first to the kitchen for some food, and then we can elope to your kingdom...”
The cook appeared to know that the guests would not be making the eight o’ clock breakfast deadline; the stout, middle-aged lady smiled a good deal at the young couple as she brought out their breakfast tray. She set it on a small table by the windowed breakfast nook and left, chuckling. Michelle and William sat down close together, facing the windows. The tray contained a simple meal of the wonderful Scottish oatmeal and cream with fresh fruit. Michelle immediately noticed a difference between this oatmeal and the flat American type; it was smaller and hardier, but possessed a more pronounced flavor, similar to toasted almonds.
“Oh, I like this,” Michelle said. “This kind of oatmeal contains no mushy properties whatsoever.” William chuckled at her enthusiasm.
“Yes, well the oats grown here are a different variety altogether, love,” he said, smiling. It was good, for cereal. “A bit hardier, so to speak. We can purchase some to take home, if you like, in the village perhaps.”
“There’s a village?” Michelle asked, taking a bite of her food.
“Yes, a quaint one, even,” William teased. “Though, it’s more of a township than a village.”
“Only if you were playing trivial pursuit would you need to know the difference,” Michelle said, smiling at her man. William snorted.
“Listen you...” he began. Michelle leaned over and kissed him before he had the chance to speak. She smiled at William as she drew away; her husband was not put off.
Reaching forward, he wrapped one arm around her back, dipped her down a little and kissed her properly. Letting her back, up William cleared his throat and went back to his breakfast. Michelle giggled her face pink.
“As I mentioned once before,” she said, “... if that’s your idea of punishment, you’re terrible at it.” William chuckled.
“Every action had an equal and opposite reaction, love,” he said. Michelle smiled.
“And, which one was that?” she asked, sweetly. William looked at her with narrowed eyes.
“You’re asking for it, minx,” he said, trying to hide his grin. Michelle returned to her food, smiling down into her bowl.
THE WEATHER cooperated with an outing after breakfast; the gray clouds almost let the sun break through; well-clad in warm layers, Michelle and William walked over the low hills towards the local ‘township’. The cold, clear air filled their lungs and brought on a red-cheeked kind of energy; they walked briskly, discussing some of the surrounding land’s history. Michelle was enamored immediately with the landscape; even in November, the ground was green with grasses and sage-colored moss; most of the trees were evergreens and a few trees still held their glorious fall colors.
When they reached the little town Michelle was again assailed with a near-indecipherable language; her facial expressions--when trying to return even a simple greeting--amused William very much. The locals spoke a murderously-accented English, well peppered with Gaelic words and phrases; William found it difficult to navigate as well, but hid it a little better than his bride. In spite of the language barrier, the bride and groom did enjoy themselves, and looked in the little shops and markets with interest. Michelle managed to distract William away from buying anything, or thought she did. Her man noted everything she looked at and resolved to return later.
They rounded out the morning at the local pub; Michelle loved the low-ceiling and warm feel of the building. It wasn’t nearly as formal as William’s lunch retreat back in Manhattan; locals talked noisily around open tables on benches and laughed out loud. Men sat at the bar and drank a pint of ‘brew’ together; two people sat in one corner, playing fiddles, trying to out-do one another in melodic complexity. Michelle sat on a bench next to William, looking around with bright eyes.
“I’m glad we came to Scotland,” she told her loving man. “It’s invigorating and friendly here.” Glancing upward, she found William looking down at her; his eyes held such affection that she wondered what he was thinking.
“You are such a gem, Michelle,” he said, softly. “Not many girls would be happy with such simple things as you are.” Michelle smiled.
“I thank you, sir but I hardly consider a castle simple,” she returned, her eyes twinkling. William nudged her shoulder a little with his.
“You know what I mean,” he said, grinning.
“I do,” Michelle told him. “And, I cannot take full credit. I’m not happy just by the surroundings, but because I’m here with you.” William smiled proudly and leaned down to kiss his bride; he did... and not just a little.
Someone nearby cleared their throat after a moment. Looking up, William saw about half the patrons were grinning at him and his young wife.
“Be y’ newlyweds perchance?” a nearby man, clad in a thick, white sweater asked; he smiled broadly at them. Michelle blushed and bit her lip, causing a general chuckle to go up around the room. The man who’d spoken to them stood up, lifting a pint glass.
“To the unknown groom and his bonnie bride!” he said, merrily. Others lifted their glasses as well and drank to the toast, afterward laughing heartily at some unseen joke. A few of the locals came up to talk to them, and introduced themselves. Once the charming town-members found out Michelle and William were staying at the ‘Castle’ for a week, they took it upon themselves to sit down and inform the new guests of the lengthy history of the place and of the family. Michelle sat forward, riveted by the information, noting the expressions and facial features of those around her. She was already formulating drawings in her mind to copy down later onto her sketchpad; William listened with her, his arm draped over his wife’s shoulders. He noted, with immense satisfaction that Michelle did not notice the winks coming from the bar, via some indigenous young men.