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Godric had a present for his wife. He rushed up the stairs, smiling in anticipation of her reaction. Perhaps he would place it on the pillow of her bed? Or under the covers? He needed to time the discovery so that neither Daniels nor the maids would encounter it first. That would be mortifying. Godric wouldn’t be able to look into their eyes, much less the housekeeper’s. Moulder would be amused, but asking his butler to go into his wife’s bedroom was awkward. Even though his wife was Moulder’s favourite person in the world, getting his master to quit—
He opened the door to his bedroom only to find his wife already there.
His gorgeous wife. Margaret, Megs, Meggie. The woman who saved his life, revived his house, expanded his family.
Megs was in his dressing room, playing with Her Grace and Her Puppies. He didn’t mind the pug nesting in his old shirts. They made his wife happy. She turned towards him, her smile somehow growing even larger. She returned a pup to the mother and rose from the floor.
Perhaps he could give her the present now.
Godric closed and locked the door behind him. Megs raised her eyebrows, then turned back to Her Grace. Murmuring apologies, she closed the door to the dressing room. She didn’t want the dogs to wander in during what she hoped was about to happen … happened.
Her husband set something on the table before removing his wig. Megs decided to help him undress by removing his coat. She then draped herself over his back and began kissing his neck just below his left ear. Her hands brushed over his back before moving to his chest to begin unbuttoning his waistcoat. He relaxed back into her warmth before gently stopping her hands. He spun his body so that they were flush against each other. Her mouth now kissed his throat, then his chin, and then his mouth. As their kiss deepened, Godric nipped at her lower lip.
His darling wife pushed closer, Godric wanted nothing more than to walk her back towards the bed. He would worship his wife’s body to proclaim his love through his mouth and fingers and prick. Instead, he slowed down the kiss. He gathered her wandering hands, bringing them together over his heart. Megs silently challenged him to continue, leaning her torso towards his. With a squeeze, he raised her hands to his lips and kissed her knuckles.
“I have a gift for you, Meggie mine.” Releasing her fingers, he motioned to a flat box on the vanity.
As she unwrapped the box, Godric nestled behind her, watching her in the mirror. As she took hold of the mysterious object, she met his eyes.
“Thank you, my love,” Megs prompted, “for this … stack of wood.”
“It is a book.”
“A book.”
It was not a normal book. First, it was thin and rectangular, its width more than twice its height. The cover was a piece of wood instead of leather or calfskin, and the pages were unbound. It was not written in any language she recognized. The letters were squiggles that seemed to hang from horizontal lines. She could not discern where one word ended and the next began. Instead of paragraphs, the text was divided into three groups with 3-4 lines each. The middle block was indented on both sides. On each page, vertical lines bound the text between wide margins.
“This is the Ananga Ranga from Hyderabad on the Indian subcontinent. At least that is what the bookseller told me. I can only tell it is written in Sanskrit.”
“Although the effect of the lettering is pleasing,” Megs said as she inspected each sheet, “you gave me a book that neither of us can read.”
Godric’s mouth drew back into a small smile. He clasped his hands around Megs’ waist.
“Just keep going.”
“How do you keep the sheets in order without page numbers? Are they indicated by these markings in the corners?” After inspecting each page, Megs placed them into a neat pile beside the empty box. At least this one was not as fragile as the ill-fated tome on Cataullus. She really didn’t want to accidentally destroy another of Godric’s books.
“I think so. I may try to find someone to translate the text and teach me the language. More of these items are appearing in England due to the recent instability.” Godric kissed a spot on her throat. “I love a good challenge.” He proceeded to worry a love-bite into her skin.
Megs paused when she was about two-thirds of the way through the pile. In the middle of the page were two coarse drawings of a man and woman in an intimate embrace. The pictures were very similar. In both, the woman laid on her back with her right leg raised so that her foot rested on the man’s shoulder. There were slight differences. The man in the left panel placed his hand under her shoulder. In the right panel, the man’s hand rested on the woman’s thigh. She couldn’t figure out where the woman’s left leg was in either picture.
Megs raised her head and looked in the mirror, trying to catch his eyes. Godric’s nuzzling had devolved into sniggers.
“You did not.”
“Yes, I found a book with ‘exotic sexual positions’.” She could feel Godric’s smile on her shoulder. “It is a Hindu sex manual.”
Megs harrumphed and flipped the page over. Again there were two illustrations, but there were more apparent differences between the positions. In fact…
“The left panel, didn’t we do that two nights ago?”
“Yes, and you enjoyed it very much,” Godric replied. He began caressing her belly. “Shall we re-enact it? You did promise me exotic sexual positions.”
“I thought you’d want to try the one on the right since you love playing with my breasts.”
Godric slid his hands up her body.
“You do have magnificent breasts. I could demonstrate my love for them right now.”
Megs let out a breath, letting her body relax into his. She could feel his interest growing, but she playfully slapped his right hand.
“Not yet.”
Obeying her command, he slid his hands up and over her shoulders. With light pressure, he moved his thumbs up the muscles of her neck and swept up a stray curl. Megs felt a puff of air on her neck She sighed. Before her eyes entirely closed in pleasure, she picked up the next sheet. “How many illustrations are in this book?”
“Not enough for the original buyer, who refused to pay the bookseller.” She shivered as he placed his lips lightly over her bare neck, occasionally parting them just enough for the tip of his tongue to emerge before moving to a new spot. “Said he expected more elaborate drawings that would better play his silent flute.”
“Ah.” Meg continued looking through the illustrations until she abruptly stopped. “Is this the normal type of conversation that happens upstairs at Warwick and Sons?”
“Rarely, my love. These purchases are usually made in private.” Godric moved his mouth and hands to caress her left shoulder.
One of the panels looked to be the couple in coitus viewed from above. The man’s body lay on top of the woman’s body with his mouth placed at her breast. The woman’s legs were splayed out while the man’s were somewhere not physically possible. And why was he suddenly wearing underclothes?
“Perhaps I should accompany you on your next visit as a chaperone. Ensure that you peruse only correct and upstanding literature. And if you do come across more scandalous reading material, remind you to purchase only those books with directions in English.”
She turned the page ninety degrees, hoping it would clarify the illustrated position. It did not.
“If you are so inclined, I have heard of a few stationers that trade in those particulars.”
“Yes,” Megs replied. “Because I cannot figure out some of these drawings.”
“Perhaps we could make more of our own exotic sexual positions.”
“Yes,” she agreed as she placed the perplexing page into the “read” pile. “Yet we are both wearing too many clothes.”
“What do you want to do about that?” challenged Godric.
“I propose we take turns removing an item of clothing from each other.”
Godric smiled. He slowly removed her fichu, dragging the cloth over her throat and neck. Megs shivered. In response, she drew her finger in a circle around the top button of his waistcoat. Once opened, she tapped the button before tracing a path to the next button. At a leisurely pace, she made her way down his torso until the coat could be removed. He expected her to press her body against his to remove the clothing. Instead, she took his right hand and spun him out of his waistcoat. Without breaking eye contact, Megs raised her trophy above her head. As she began to smile, she opened her fingers letting the clothing fall to the floor.
With a deep breath, she hid how her heart beat faster in anticipation of her husband’s response. A brief arch of the eyebrows issued the next challenge.
Godric studied her stance. His wife had pulled back her shoulders so that her breasts were pushed forward. She was poised as if she were a dragoon in a skirmish with the Ghost of St. Giles. (Hmm, perhaps they could role-play that in the future.) No, not a common soldier, she was Boudicca, determining the fate of a Roman general during the fall of Londinium.
He curled his hands into fists. All would be lost if he moved his eyes down to her bosom. He needed to regain control of the situation.
He opened his mouth. Before any sound could come out, she silenced him with a finger to his lips and shook her head.
Godric pressed his lips against her finger. He would obey his fierce queen.
The bodice had to go. He brought his head close to inspect the top hook and eye. He puffed in fake frustration, causing goosebumps to rise on her breasts. He looked up to see the desire concentrated in his wife’s brown eyes. He almost broke down, almost kissed the hollow between her breasts, remembering that first time he enjoyed her bosom. But he was enjoying this game. After unclasping the first hook, he smoothed the fabric around it. Each time he released a hook, he swept his knuckles up her torso and over the tops of her breasts. With the gradual loosening of the gown, Megs drew her breath a little faster.
As he peeled back the gown, he pressed his body closer to hers. When she felt his hard cock against her sex, Megs tipped her head back. As he dropped the fabric to the floor, Godric rolled his hips ever so slightly forward. She bit back a moan. He let his arms brush against her as he stepped back, smirking. She began to lean forward ever so slightly toward him, until she checked herself.
Silently, they continued playing their game—
She took off his shoes.
He lowered her skirts.
She unbuckled his breeches.
He unlocked the stays.
She unrolled his stockings.
He removed her chemise.
She removed his shirt.
—until they stood naked before each other.
They stared at each other. The space between their bodies seemed electric. One touch would spark a frenzy.
Capitulating, Godric picked Megs up and pinned her to the wall. She claimed his mouth in a bruising kiss. Once again, she marveled at her husband’s strength, how he was able to move her country-fed body so effortlessly. Would he continue his training regimen even though he had relinquished being the Ghost of St. Giles? As she traced her fingers over a scar on his back, she wanted to learn its history. All of the scars. All of the stories. Each mark has shaped him so as to become the man she loved.
Her body did not contain a record of such physical adventures. With each coupling, he generated new sensations that settled into her skin. She relished how he opened her body to previously unimagined pleasures. She was learning what touches increased his lust as well as her own. Right now, his diamond of chest hair tickled her breasts; she needed more. So she wrapped her leg around his hip to bring their bodies closer together.
Godric turned his squeak of surprise into a growl. He was ashamed to remember their impersonal first night together. Both of them had been restrained, too bound up in thoughts of their dead lovers. He needed to cultivate their newly gained intimacy with kisses and caresses. He nipped at her ear, swirling his tongue just so until she trembled in his arms. He felt her breasts rise with each breath.
Wanting more leverage, Godric hoisted her further up the wall so that he was mouth-level with her bosom. Megs whimpered and wrapped both her legs around his waist. Godric kissed the hollow between her breasts, reveling in her scent of orange blossoms. He then moved to lave her right nipple with his tongue and teeth. He needed to taste every inch of her magnificent chest.
Megs enjoyed and encouraged his diligent ministrations. When she felt his cock near her folds, she smiled in anticipation. He paused and looked up into her eyes, wanting to make sure that she was ready. In response, she moved her hips forward to envelop him. He thrust into her as she clung onto him. She used her hips to get just the right angle and her heels to dictate his pace. She let the pleasurable sensations fill her body, encouraging his completion with every sound and movement and touch until his body stilled, and Godric spent his seed into his Meggie.
Oh, how she loved this good, strong man. Who helped her when she needed protection. Who agreed to give her a baby even if it broke his heart. Who avenged her dead lover. They had created a new life together from the ashes of their pasts. That sublime golden heat enveloped her as she screamed, “Godric!”
*****
Afterwards, they napped in the bed. Eventually, Megs knew, they had to get up and return to the outside world. They had dinner plans at her brother Thomas’s house.
Oh no, Megs couldn’t remember how loud they had been. They usually saved these exertions for the nighttime. What if Godric’s sisters heard them? Or his stepmother? Perhaps Mrs. Crumb or Moulder kept the family from this part of the house. No matter, she resolved that she would not be embarrassed by how much she loved her husband, and how much he loved her.
When Godric had lifted her against the wall — as pleasurable as that had been, he better not have re-injured his arm. Again.
A sound came from the dressing room. Someone needed to let Her Grace and Her Puppies out to stretch their legs. Godric still slept, so Megs rose from the bed. Sighing, she scanned the room, thankful that the windows had been closed. At least no one in the garden would have heard their loud love-making in the middle of the day.
Megs suddenly realized that the book with the scandalous illustrations was out in the open. If anyone came across it, she would be mortified. As she gathered the sheets together, she took another look at that confounding panel. She turned the page clockwise and smiled. Aha! She was no longer sure how “exotic” it was, but they had both enjoyed that sexual position.