Astor // Arthur Shelby x Reader - Peaky Blinders

Chapter 59

A profound sense of contentment washes over me, my body relaxed, a dull ache between my legs. I close my eyes and feel the gentle rise and fall of Arthur's chest against mine.

With a tender touch, he caresses my cheek. I reach up and trace the contours of his face, memorising every line and curve, feeling his soft skin beneath my fingers. There's a silence between us, an understanding that transcends words.

"You mean the bloody world to me," he murmurs. "You know that?"

A surge of warmth fills my chest as I gaze into his eyes. "I'm so happy I have you," I tell him softly.

He leans in and captures my lips in a gentle kiss.

I sigh softly. "We need to get back to the dogs," I tell him.

"And to the farm," he says, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

"How are we meant to get any work done with them in tow?" I sit upright and lean across the shed to gather my clothes, but Arthur picks them up first.

He dresses me with gentle hands. Slipping the fabric across my skin, caressing my hips and waist and limbs as he goes.

"We'll put them in the chicken paddock," he says as he buttons my shirt. "It's fully fenced and right next to us. I brought some toys for them."

"The chicken paddock?" I repeat, my brows knitting together.

"Yes, love. The section next to the farm. There used to be chickens."

When Arthur reaches for his clothes, I take his hands in mine, stopping him. I bend down and begin to dress him just as tenderly as he dressed me. My fingernails drag lightly up his legs with his boxers, then his trousers, leaving them unbuttoned while I button his shirt.

"And then what?" I ask him.

He runs a hand through my hair. "And then we plant the strawberries."

"Strawberries?" I ask. It sounds oddly familiar, like a dream from a long time ago. "We're having a strawberry farm?"

"We'll have a few others to keep us going in the off-season. But, yes." He kisses my forehead. "And then I'm taking you out."

"Another match?" I ask eagerly.

"Got the bloody taste for it, have you?" He shakes his head, smiling at me fondly as we leave the shed, stepping out into the brisk morning. "No. We're going to see my Aunt Polly. You remember her?"

I try to think. For some reason I associate the name with warmth, murmured reassurances and a gentle hand on my back.

"I think so."

Arthur nods, relieved. "Good. She'll make you a tea, and I'll be more careful in the future."

"A tea?"

He brushes a thumb across my cheek. "I, er, got a bit carried away. Won't have you worrying about a baby while... with everything else going on."

I feel heat rise to my cheeks. "Oh," I manage to say.

The thought plagues me as we get to work sowing the strawberry seeds. Obviously I know what sex can lead to — my head isn't that scrambled. But it hadn't occurred to me to worry about it when laying with Arthur.

Should I be worried about it? He's right, I know, as I stab a cultivator into the earth. Now wouldn't be the right time. But we are married, and at some point a husband and wife are expected to —

Pain rips through my head.

I gasp, clutching my temples as the sudden agony sears through my mind, and I drop to my knees. Images flash before my eyes — fragmented memories of another time. Another life.

Arthur kneeling beside me in his best suit. His eyes looking more green than blue in the sun. Pure joy, pure happiness across his face — a younger face. Still aged from the war. Not from losing me.

A ring on my finger. A ring on his.

Slow dancing in front of a bonfire. Releasing a small sigh of contentment as I rest my head on his shoulder.

"I cannot remember the last time I felt so happy," I tell him, as we move slowly to the music.

His hands rest gently atop the simple white gown I'm wearing. "Don't think I ever have," he tells me, and he looks at me like he's seeing sun for the first time.

But just as quickly as the memories come, they fade, slipping away like smoke between my fingers. I'm left gasping, trying to catch my breath, my heart pounding in my chest. The pain subsides, but in its wake, leaves a dull ache. Frustration.

I feel Arthur's hands on my shoulders. His concerned voice breaks through the haze. "Fucking hell, are you alright?"

I blink back tears. My vision settles. "I... I had a memory," I manage to say. My voice trembles. "Of our wedding."

His eyes widen. A mixture of hope and sorrow is reflected in their depths. "You remember?"

I shake my head, the frustration building. My brain scrambles to hold onto the flashing images, to rearrange them, slot them neatly in somewhere, but with no way of knowing where. The frustration settles in my throat, and I think I'm unable to speak once more.

I focus on his hands on my shoulders as I take a breath. "Just fragments." I place my hands over his own, and then I frown. "Where are our wedding rings?"

He swallows. "I keep them safe. Back home."

I stand slowly to my feet. Everything settles back to normal. We continue our work, planting the seeds in the fertile earth, pausing only to check on the dogs and throw a ball for them every half hour or so.

By the time we've planted the last of them, I've made up my mind. I clasp my hands together and turn to Arthur.

"I'd like to see them," I tell him.

He hesitates. "The doctors—"

"I don't give a fuck." I gather up my coat, and as many puppies as I can carry. "I'd like to see them. Now."