Daughter of the Rebellion

Chapter 6

"Cecily."

I was mildly aware of the sound of my name as a someone smoothed my hair down my back, but I was still much too sleepy and comfortable to even think of moving.

With a small moan to acknowledge whoever called me, I began drifting off again.

"Cecily."

This time I recognized the voice as belonging to Richard, and I forced my eyes open. A second later, heat filled my cheeks as I realized that I was lying across his chest.

"Oh, I'm sorry," I mumbled, pushing myself off his body before I moved to the other end of the thin mattress and straightened my nightgown.

My sister used to hate sharing a bed with me since I could never seem to stick to my side. I liked being snug and warm at night, so I usually wound up unconsciously cuddling up to Keira who would kick me away, wanting her own space.

Given the situation, I assumed that it wouldn't be an issue any longer. Everything seemed turned upside down in my life now, and I assumed that hardly sleeping was just another change that I would have to get used to. Every night I would lie awake long after Richard was asleep, too anxious or worried as I contemplated my future or wondered about my family. Most of the time, the camp was very noisy into the early morning hours, making me wonder how Richard was able to sleep through it.

But it seemed that for the first time in a week, I'd actually slept soundly. Apparently I was going to have the same boundary issues as I did before. Only now it wasn't my little sister beside me.

I suppose that meant I was starting to feel safe around this man.

"Don't be sorry," Richard said kindly. "I hated to wake you, since it seems you finally got some sleep."

I bit my lip and nodded with a sheepish smile. I guess he hadn't been fooled by my attempts to feign sleep in the mornings.

"Unfortunately I have to get going." He heaved a sigh before turning to set his feet to the dirt floor. The muscles rippled along his broad back when he reached for his shirt and I shyly looked away. Would I ever be as comfortable with Richard as most women were around their husbands? Although, I suppose he wasn't actually my husband yet. But did that matter? Would the title change my feelings?

When I was confident that he was dressed, I risked peeking again and caught him looking at me as he finished with the buttons on his uniform.

"How do I look," he asked genially, holding out his arms for my inspection.

Over the last week, Richard had obviously put in a great deal of effort to make our situation seem as normal and amiable as possible, entirely for my sake. It was something that I greatly appreciated since his behavior made everything much easier for me to accept.

Once I realized that trying to hide from him wasn't going to help my situation since I really did need a baby, not to mention that it wouldn't be any use since he saw right through my effort anyway, I decided to behave more maturely. I began waiting for him at the end of the day to eat supper together, and then we would talk. I mostly listened, glad that Richard didn't seem to mind carrying the weight of the conversation. Sometimes I would contribute more vague things about myself, and I was glad that he never pried too deeply since there were too many things that I didn't want to discuss. At least not yet. Maybe I never would.

"Very nice." I smiled, sitting up and hugging my knees to my chest. "Quite official."

He sent me a brief grin and dropped his arms. "Well then I best be going."

As he turned, I noticed that one of his many medals was crooked.

"Wait!" I said reflexively and scrambled over to him.