The Secret of Bell Cottage

Chapter Twenty-two - Gideon

Gideon awoke to a feeling of utter peace and contentment. He was warm and comfortable, surrounded by softness. The only sounds were the distant twittering of the birds and then a sleepy sigh and a waft of air flowed over him. He realized he wasn't alone and frowned, debating whether this was a welcome discovery or not.
He lay still, his eyes closed as he probed his surroundings with his other senses. He was lying on his back in a comfortable bed with a soft warm body cuddled up to his side. His right arm was wrapped around her bare back, his hand on her round buttock.

Sheila. Memories of last night came flooding back and a goofy, satisfied smile to came his lips. She had surprised him with her open, uninhibited passion. Sheila was no blushing virgin. She was a widow after all. She knew what she wanted and had not been timid about demanding her due. He had been more than happy to oblige her and together they had found sweet release. Their night had passed in a blur of slow, sweet, intense love-making. After, late into the wee hours, they had both fallen into exhausted slumber.

The first thing he saw when he opened his eyes were those beautiful copper tresses, like a curly blanket, covering them both. He remembered freeing those lovely locks from the loose braid she'd confined them in and relishing the delightful softness of her curls, the lovely scent of lavender that always seemed to surround her. Now he found himself lifting a few strands to his nose for another sniff. Heavenly.

She sighed in her sleep and nuzzled into his chest, which she seemed to be using as a pillow. Her left hand was resting near her cheek, her fingers buried in the dark whorls of his chest hair. Her legs were tangled with his own, one bent across his thighs, her knee perilously close to his cock. It was then he became aware of another problem. His favorite little friend had risen to attention, wanting to renew its acquaintance with her damp sheath. He debated the wisdom of indulging himself in her arms once more. It was tempting.

He wanted to roll her over onto her back and waken her with kisses and caresses until she was frantic with need. His erection hardened painfully with the path of his thoughts and he almost acted on them. He was shifting even as he thought of it.

But then he glanced across the room and noted the faint light of dawn filtering in through the partially drawn curtains. There would be no time now for a repeat of last night's performance. Not if he wanted their night's activities to remain secret. The Chesterton household would be wakening soon and the last thing he wanted was to see his lady's reputation tarnished. His cock throbbed in painful protest but Gideon focused his strong will and forced back his baser instincts.

Gingerly, he slid out from under his lover's clinging form, careful not to awaken her. She looked so sweet, curled up under that copper cloud, he could not resist. He leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on her brow. She smiled, murmuring in her sleep. He wished he could be here when she woke. There were so many things left unsaid between them.

Last night she had asked for no promises and he had made none. But it wasn't what he wanted. He could only hope that their time together had convinced her to look to their future as a couple. She was the other half of himself. The half he hadn't realized was missing all these years. He had felt drawn to her from the beginning. Her courage and her practical nature, her honesty and compassion. They were of similar age, temperament and opinions. They belonged together. He was certain. Now if only he could convince her of that.

On silent feet he gathered up his discarded garments and slid into them. He wished he could at least leave her something. A promise to return so that she would have no doubt of his unwavering commitment. He lifted a hand to scrub at the bristles on his chin and his eye fell on his signet ring.

Perfect. What better symbol of his newfound devotion. But where could he leave it that she wouldn't fail to see the gold band? His gaze roamed from the ring on his finger to her small hand resting on the sheets. If only it would fit. With a quick twist he tugged the band off his pinkie. Cautiously he slid the ring onto her third finger. The fit was a little loose but not enough to worry it would fall off. He placed a soft kiss in her palm before lowering her hand to rest on the bed. Sheila closed her fingers as she moaned and shifted but remained asleep.

With a last glance at the woman who had stolen his heart, he carefully slipped out of the room. Carrying his shoes out into the hallway, he closed the door behind himself as softly as he could. Quickly but quietly, he padded down the main staircase and sat down on the last step to slip into his boots. He heard no sounds from the kitchens and he prayed that Kitty was still abed.

The last thing he needed was for the shy little housemaid to screech the house down again. Then it occurred to him, today was Sunday. Had it really been just a week ago that he had met them both? If it hadn't been for his horse slipping in the wet, would he have even met Sheila and young Kitty? So much had changed for him in that one week.

He was no longer alone in the world. He had family again. A daughter, a brother and a potential wife. If only he could convince Sheila to accept his proposal. Perhaps he would have Daniels hitch up the team and offer to escort her to church. If he brought the children as chaperones it should be sufficient to appease propriety. He might even persuade Mrs. Sheila Sparrow to allow him to have a word with the Vicar. Certainly it would not be difficult to have the first banns read today at services.

As hastily as he could, and still remain quiet, he made his way to the kitchens. After stopping to retrieve his lantern and relight the wick, he slipped back into the tunnel. All the while he continued to plan. He wondered if Cook could be persuaded to whip up a small picnic for them. The river would be a lovely venue for keeping young ones occupied while he courted his lovely lady. He might just manage to steal a few kisses.

He hurried up the stairs, his mind filled with thoughts of pleasant ways to entice his reluctant fiancé. It wasn't until he came to the second landing that he was reminded of the shrine behind that brick wall. The fire-poker lay on the floor where he had dropped it. The hole he'd smashed in the brick wall, barely big enough to put his head through gaped at him. Guilt raised its ugly head. He shouldn't be looking forward to a day of fun and frolic. Not when there was so much work to be done to restore the family fortunes. His day might be better spent sorting through all the treasures entombed there. Everything would need to be inventoried and evaluated, then either returned to its rightful place in the Hall or sold to finance the estate. But that would require someone capable of reading and recording the details. Something he was not capable of doing, and, although his opinion of Coombs had improved, he was still unwilling to entrust the little clerk with such a monumental task.

Then he remembered Deacon was due to arrive tomorrow sometime. There was the man for such an undertaking. Having appeased his guilt and arrived at that decision, he shook of the heavy burden and continued up the stairs to the Hall. Today was the day for courting, not mourning and he intended to enjoy every minute of it.