Sometimes it Pours ch-4 Annabelle's Story

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My mind whirled as my body seemed to beg for more. His lips crushed mine as I feverishly kissed him back. His hard chest lay just beneath my hands as I pulled his body closer. My knees were threatening to buckle from his intoxication. The pounding of my heart was so loud; I was positive he heard it as well. Those large hands wrapped around my waist holding me steady.

Then as quickly as it began it ended. He was pulling away from me leaving me breathless. Marcus released his grip on my body stepping back. He looked as confused as I felt.

"Annabelle, I.....I apologize..." He looked pained as he spoke.

Words refused to form together, I was in shock. This man had my mind whirling and my body aching to repeat those acts.

"Marcus, you have met my dear Annabelle, I see." A familiar voice called dryly from behind Marcus.

Davis was standing in the hall for God only knows how long. What had he witnessed? The flush on my face grew deeper. Marcus broke the uncomfortable silence, turning to Davis as he spoke.

"Yes, your father introduced us recently." His voice was cool and controlled now.

Feeling like a disobedient child, I uttered the first words to come to my mind. "Davis, Sara is well and awaits you in Father's study." My eyes remained on the floor boards refusing to make eye contacted with either man. "I must return to the guest..."  My voice seemed to squeak. Then pushing past both men I made my escape. The fear in my body caused my heart to race. Not the fear of being discovered but rather the fear of wanting more than just that moment.

The night dragged on for what seemed to be an eternity. I politely smiled and chatted with others trying to uphold appearances. After refusing to dance with some gentlemen I finally had to with Father. As a soft melody played we glided across the dance floor. Everyone turning to watch our movements added to my discomfort. My lips still felt swollen from Marcus' kiss and I was sure these people noticed.

"Anna, what is wrong? Your pretty face looks so long tonight." His concern was genuine. "Is something not to your liking?"

Trying to reassure him I answered, "Everything is wonderful. It has been a very long day." A half hearted smiled was all I could muster.

Seeming to except my explanation he added, "Your mother would be so proud of you."

Thinking to myself she would not be proud of my behavior though. Neither would you Father if you knew my actions. Shame filled my body. That guilt and shame lay just beneath my polished looks and polite manners. Every time I saw an older lady's stern looks or the younger ones snicker I felt as though my secret was known.

The rest of that night Marcus managed to stay clear of me. I saw Catherine dancing but made a point to drift away from her. I had made several attempts to talk to Davis but he appeared to be avoiding me as well. He needed to assure me of his silence.

Later that night alone in my bedroom I let my tears fall. I was older than most unmarried ladies. Most had settled by there eighteenth year. Never had this bothered me before but did my age matter to him. Did he want an Irish bride? Or was he only tempted by my lips not my heart? Was I only being foolish and child like dreaming of a future with this man? My mind was clouded with these thoughts as I cried myself to sleep that night.

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