You Must Remember This

Chapter Eleven: Dashing Through The Snow

Penelope could hardly sit still as one maid tried to work the nighttime tangles from her hair and another was brushing out the lovely green velvet dress and fur-lined cape Penelope had chosen to wear. It was so tempting to look at and perfect for Christmas. She couldn't wait to see herself in it. She imagined she might look quite pretty and she couldn't help thinking that feeling was rare for her, since the other dresses in her closet had inspired no such excitement.

Or perhaps this feeling — this pretty feeling — was all due to Colin and his words last night, not to mention his kiss!

Even now, in her quite plain white shift and stays and petticoats, she still felt pretty, still heard his words and delighted in them — calling her eyes blue as the Sardinian Sea, her skin soft, her hair a dessert sunset, her lips raspberry blancmange as if he'd like to devour them then and there...

He had certainly devoured them and she couldn't wait for him to do it again. Despite the circumstances now, she knew their marriage must be a passionate one and she desperately wanted to taste that passion again.

It felt so new. That was the strangest and, perhaps, most tantalizing part. She expected, when he met her lips, that she would feel something perhaps familiar and comforting, but instead her body came almost painfully alive at his lips touching hers, his tongue sliding along her own. She could barely sleep, tossing and turning and trying to stop her heart from beating in her chest, her limbs, even pulsing between her legs. It was an ache that had yet to be eased.

Perhaps another kiss might cure it.

"You look flushed," Mrs. Harris said sharply, putting a hand to her head. "Are you sure you aren't feverish?"

"Oh, no." She blushed harder. "If anything, I'm excited for this outing." That was certainly true.

Mrs. Harris also seemed restless, but likely not for the same reason as Penelope... unless Mrs. Harris had been the recipient of a spectacular kiss.

"Mind yourself, you," she scolded one maid. "I won't have her sittin' in pain through services all because of your roughness." The maid gentled her strokes, which Penelope thought hadn't been too harsh in the first place. Mrs. Harris seemed awfully agitated today, wringing her hands and pacing about. She finally stilled and met Penelope's eyes in the mirror. "Are you certain you won't stay here?"

"I do appreciate your concern," Penelope said softly, "but didn't Doctor Dorset himself say the fresh air might do me good?"

"Aye, that he did," the older woman groaned, pacing again.

"Should you like your hair up, Miss?" one of the maids inquired. "I can do a neat braid and coronet if you—"

"No, not up," Mrs. Harris barked, "not with her injury. You can pin it on the other side to keep it out of her face and that's it. No fancy business. Not till we get those stitches out." She met Penelope's eyes again, her tone gentler. "I hope you don't mind."

"Oh, not at all," Penelope assured her. "My husband seems to enjoy my hair loose."

The maids giggled a bit at that.

Mrs. Harris stilled and turned on them. "Aye? Something funny there?"

"No. Mrs. Harris," both said at once.

"Oh, off with you two!" she barked.

They scurried out, leaving Mrs. Harris to finish combing her hair. She was actually a bit heavier handed than the maid before, but Penelope was determined not to protest or do anything that would delay this jaunt to church.

"How are you faring," Mrs. Harris asked suddenly, "with memories and the like?"

Penelope considered it. "I did remember some things yesterday. I remembered that I don't like mince pies and that I do like eclairs and how I take my tea... or how my mother prefers I take my tea, though I can't quite remember her. Oh! And, in my dreams, I remembered my surname... or my former surname, at least, and last night—" She stopped herself. She certainly shouldn't be talking about her dreams last night. She'd thought, when she finally drifted off, that she might find more memories in her dreams, but they were filled with nothing but Colin, touching her, looming over her on a bed, kissing her... and not only on her lips.