Humming a nineties pop song as I pruned the dead flowers off of the lavender bush in Nicholas' front garden, I realised how much I missed listening to music.
Music was everywhere in my time, but here, it was so... quiet.
But I knew if I was going to stay in the year 1870 with Nicholas, I would be giving up a lot. And that's exactly what I did. And so far, I'd had no regrets.
Three weeks had passed since Nicholas proposed, and it had been the best three weeks of my life so far. We had been living in our own little love bubble; barely leaving the house, simply enjoying each other's company and really getting to know each other without the constant fear of looking over our shoulders for Constable Doyle.
In fact, no one even knew we were engaged except for my good friend Rose Davies in Launceston who I had written a letter to a couple of weeks ago.
Nicholas and I had talked about going to the Valentine house several times to share the news, but we couldn't seem to drag ourselves away from our cosy bubble just yet.
Speaking of my fiancé, just as I was getting lost in the chorus, I felt his strong arms wrap around my waist, startling me a little.
"Bloody hell, Nicholas. If it wasn't for the strong odour of oil paints on you, I would have stabbed you with my secateurs."
He chuckled, not in the least bit concerned for his safety. "Good thing I chose painting as a career, then," he breathed into my ear, and I turned in his arms to face him, discarding the secateurs on the ground. "I apologise for startling you, darling," he added, in all seriousness.
"I guess I'm still a little jumpy after the whole being kidnapped thing," I explained.
"That's understandable," he said, tucking a loose lock of hair behind my ear, a favourite gesture of his. "But there's no need to be afraid anymore, my love. When you're with me, I promise you'll be safe."
He lowered his head to kiss my cheek, then continued down to my neck. "I realise that... but I... it was..." What was I trying to say? I had no idea. My mind had turned to mush. God he was good at that. Did I mention we could barely keep our hands off each other for the past three weeks?
My hands slid their way around to the back of his neck, and our bodies snapped together like two magnets.
He lifted his lips away from my skin long enough to say, "You taste like salt and lavender," before resuming his task.
"I-I do?" I stammered.
"Mm-hm," he hummed.
"What are you doing out here, anyway? You should be painting."
"Your humming attracted me. Like a Siren," he explained.
"But I thought we agreed on actually getting some work done today? You haven't picked up a paintbrush since you painted my Christmas present."
He dragged himself away to make eye contact with me. "So you would rather I paint than do that to your neck?" he asked, lifting an eyebrow.
My lips curled into a smile. "No..." I said slowly. "But if you don't paint, you won't have anything to sell, which means no income."
He exhaled. "I'm just... taking a break, that's all. Recovering after everything that's happened. Enjoying spending quality time with you."
"I understand. Maybe I should ask Mr. Valentine if I can be a governess for his grandchildren again? You know, earn some extra money to help pay for our wedding."
"Matilda, no! I would never expect you to pay for our wedding. And I certainly don't expect my wife to go out and work. It's the husband's responsibility to take care of his family, and that's what I will do."
"I honestly don't mind. I enjoyed being a governess. I was starting to wonder if I should've become a teacher instead of a writer."
He shook his head. "No-no. Don't you worry about money. I will have some paintings to sell soon, I promise." Even though I nodded, I was a little disappointed he didn't want me to work. I kind of had my heart set on being a governess for Isabella's children again. "Besides, I would miss you too much if you were gone all day," he added, leaning in to give my neck more attention. My eyelids fluttered shut at the sensation and my fingers curled to grip the hair on the back of his head.
"You'll get sick of me," I said.
"Never," he growled into my neck, making me giggle. "I still can't believe you decided to stay." He pulled away once again to stare deep into my eyes. "Are you happy, my love?"
"More than you'll ever know," I replied, giving him a reassuring smile.
"If you're as happy as I am, then I know. And I will dedicate the rest of my life to making sure you stay that happy." He leant down to kiss me softly on the lips.
"Wow. You're straight out of a romance movie, aren't you?" He furrowed his brow in confusion and I laughed. I would never get tired of that look. "Never mind."
I felt his hands slide from my waist to the front of my bodice, fingers expertly popping open the buttons one by one.
"It's too warm out here, darling. Why don't we go inside and... take a break from working, hm?" He raised an eyebrow at me and I couldn't help but smile at his suggestion.
"But you should be pai-" I sucked in a sharp breath, suddenly lost for words when he bent down to kiss my exposed clavicle. "Ni-Nicholas, we can't keep g-getting distracted."
"But this is so much more enjoyable than painting," he stated, moving to give the other side of my clavicle some attention.
"I agree, but... Ah, screw it. Let's go." After grabbing his hand I pulled him towards the front door of the cottage.
* * *
We were still lying on the bed after our 'break' from working when Nicholas heard a sound. His head had popped up like a meerkat, eyes wide, and I couldn't help but laugh at the sight.
"What are you doing?" I asked him.
"A hear a horse and buggy coming down the road," he replied, moving to a sitting position.
"What are you, a bat? I can't hear anything. Lie back down."
He shook his head. "Not until I know it's not coming here."
"We haven't had visitors for weeks."
Nicholas swung his legs off the bed and stood, then, still stark naked, made his way across to the window. "That's what I'm worried about. We haven't left the house. Not even for church. Mr. Valentine will be wondering what we're up to."
I giggled. "Mr. Valentine certainly doesn't need to know what we've been up to."
"Bloody hell!" he exclaimed, interrupting my stare at his impressive buttocks. "Speak of the devil and he appears."
It was my turn to impersonate a meerkat. "Mr. Valentine's here?"
"It's definitely his horse and buggy. Quick, Matilda. We have to get dressed."
We spent the next several minutes frantically grabbing pieces of clothing off of the floor, which I'm sure we would be able to laugh about later.
Nicholas finished dressing well before I did, having only trousers and a shirt to throw on. Curse the nineteenth century and their layers upon layers of zipperless clothes. He was helping me tie up my corset when we heard the gentle knock at the front door.
"I've got this," I said to him. "You answer the door. Tell him I'm taking a nap or something."
Mr. Valentine was a nineteenth century gentleman who still believed in arranging marriages for his daughter. I respected who he was and his traditions, so I certainly didn't want to be a disappointment to him - and I'm sure Nicholas didn't either - if he learnt what we were doing before we were married. I'm sure he would even disapprove of us living together already.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. Go, go!" I shooed him away, and he promptly left the room, closing the bedroom door behind him.
As I fiddled with my laces, I pressed an ear to the door so I could hear their conversation.
After the front door opened, I heard Nicholas say in a surprised tone, "Isabella?"
Wait, what? Isabella was here?
Although, I shouldn't be surprised. When Isabella and I reunited at Nicholas' father's funeral, we promised we'd catch up again within a week or two. I realise three weeks had passed without a word from me, so she was probably coming to see where the hell I've been all this time.
"Hello, Nicholas. I hope I'm not interrupting," she said.
"Uh... no. What are you doing here? Is everything all right?"
I stepped into my dress, then pulled it up, attempting to keep my ear as close to the door as I could at the same time.
"I could ask you the same question. No one has seen you or Tilly since your father's funeral. You haven't even been attending church." She sounded stern, not at all like the bubbly Isabella I knew. In fact, it reminded me of her father.
"Did your father send you here?" Nicholas asked her.
"No. But he's wondering the same thing."
"I don't mean to sound rude, Isabella, but it's really no one's business but ours."
"We're just worried about you two, that's all. After what happened with Jack Bradshaw. Especially because he's still out there somewhere."
"You don't need to worry about Jack Bradshaw. We're fine. Better than fine, actually. We're simply enjoying each other's company without the interruptions of others," Nicholas replied, matching her stern tone.
"Oh. I see," was all Isabella replied. "Perhaps I best be off, then. I apologise for disturbing you two."
"No-no, Isabella, wait. That's not what I was implying. Please, come in."
"Only if you're sure."
"Yes, of course."
"You see, the reason I came today was because I am in desperate need of some advice from Tilly. Woman to woman. I missed our talks when she was gone, and now that she has returned, I am ever so excited to continue where we left off."
Women to women talks? Uh-oh. That was my cue.
I reached for the door handle and swung the door open, more dramatically than intended, bringing the attention of Nicholas and Isabella to myself. I was buttoning up the last few buttons of my bodice, and I realised I hadn't even checked the state of my hair in the mirror.
"Isabella!" I shouted, a little louder than was necessary. "I had no idea you were here," I lied. "Please excuse my state, I just awoke from a nap." After I had finished the last button, I ran my fingers through my hair to smooth it down.
I caught the movement of her eyes briefly flick over to the bedroom I had just emerged from. "I hope you don't mind me dropping in like this, but I really need to talk to you. Alone."
"Of course," I said. "It's so good to see you again." I turned to Nicholas. "Nicholas? Don't you have some painting to do?"
"Hm? Oh, yes. I'll, uh, be outside if you need me." Just as he was about to turn, he tugged on his shirt which he felt wasn't sitting properly.
Isabella giggled, pointing at his shirt. "Nicholas, you silly goose, you seemed to have missed a button when buttoning up your shirt."
"I've done what?" He looked down, pulling the fabric away from his chest so he could see better. "Ha. Would you look at that. So I have. I must've been walking around all day like that." I covered my mouth with a fist to attempt to stifle a laugh. "You could have said something, Matilda. Instead now I have embarrassed myself in front of our guest."
Isabella dismissed the mishap with a wave of her hand. "I promise I won't tell anyone, Nicholas."
"I appreciate that, Isabella. Now, if you'll both excuse me."
He was out of the room and onto the back verandah in no time.
I was curious to know if Isabella was believing our lies.
"Please, sit," I said to her, gesturing towards the sofa. "I'm sorry I haven't been to see you."
"Are you unwell?" she asked, ignoring my apology.
"No," I answered, shaking my head. "Why would you think that?"
"You said you were napping."
"Oh. I was working in the garden earlier. Got a little tired."
"Isn't that... Nicholas' bedroom?"
"Mm-hm. His mattress is more comfortable than mine." What the hell kind of excuse was that? I shouldn't know what his mattress feels like.
"I'm not a child, Tilly. Even though my father still thinks I am. But you can be honest with me. I like to think of us a best friends. And best friends tell each other everything, right?"
O-kay. The girl definitely had something on her mind. But before we got into that, I needed to update her on our relationship status.
"You're right, Isabella. You're not a child. But I feel like I need to explain that Nicholas and I are in love, and we're..." I paused for dramatic effect. "Engaged!" I flung my left hand up into the air, wiggling my ring finger, resulting in Isabella squealing with excitement. Now that was the Isabella I knew.
"Oh my gosh, Tilly!" She reached for my hand, bringing it in close so she could inspect the ring. "The ring is gorgeous!"
"It was Nicholas' mother's."
"Oh, that makes it even more precious. Gosh, you are so lucky. I mean, you two know what you want and you just do it. You fall in love, get engaged, you're already living together, all in just a few months of knowing one another. And no one was there telling you that you could or couldn't do all that. You two are simply following your hearts, and that's what love should be about." She released my hand after realising she still had it, and I noticed a sudden sadness wash over her.
"Isabella, what is it you came to talk to me about? I'm sensing something is wrong. You're definitely not your usual happy self."
She sighed heavily and hesitated a moment before answering. "Yes, well..." I've never seen Isabella lost for words before. I was starting to get worried. "It's about me and Robbie..."
"Oh, God. You're not pregnant, are you?"
Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped. "Tilly, no!" The poor girl's face turned bright red.
"I am so sorry. You just sounded so serious and so worried, I..."
"And that was your first thought?"
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I just had visions of Mr. Valentine murdering poor Robbie with his bare hands. Okay, so what about you and Robbie? Is everything all right between you two?"
"Yes," she replied, smiling a little. "Perfect, actually."
"So what's wrong?"
"My father!" she exclaimed, jumping up from her seat and pacing the room. "We want to get married but my father doesn't want us to rush into it. I know we have only been courting for a few months but Robbie and I have been in love since we were teenagers. We don't need to court. We don't want to wait any longer. We want to get married now!"
"Isabella, your father means well. He's old fashioned. He's strict because he loves you."
"We don't need his permission, you know. Robbie and I can elope right now if we wanted to. We're not teenagers anymore."
"Then why don't you?"
She paused, not expecting that response from me. "Because... because I love my father, too, and I don't want him to be disappointed in me." She returned to the sofa and plonked herself back down. "Robbie's saved so much money over the last few years. He's found us an adorable little cottage not far from here. He loves my children and they love him. Everything's falling into place. We're ready to be a family. Why can't my father see that?"
"I don't know, Isabella. I wish I could help in someway, but I really think-"
Her eyes lit up. "Oh my gosh, Tilly! You can talk to him!"
I blinked at her. "Uh, what?"
"My father thinks you're wonderful! He will listen to anything you have to say."
"No, Isabella, it's not my business-"
"Please, Tilly! Please, I'm begging you. It's perfect, because once you tell him you and Nicholas are engaged after only a few months of courting, he might change his mind about me and Robbie. And you two are living together before marriage."
I wasn't sure that was a good selling point.
But Isabella and Robbie were my friends and I really wanted to help them out. They were adorable together.
"We were planning on visiting your father soon, anyway, so I suppose I could casually mention something."
She squealed once more, followed by her wrapping her arms around me in a tight embrace. "You are the best friend ever!" She pulled away, jumping up from her place on the sofa. "Sorry to leave so soon but I have to go tell Robbie the good news!"
"Wait, Isabella, you can't get your hopes up-"
"Congratulations again on your engagement, Tilly. Ooh, maybe we can have a double wedding? How wonderful would that be!" She clapped her hands together in excitement. How did we get from talking to Mr. Valentine to double weddings so quickly? Does she not remember how stubborn her father is? "I will see you soon, Tilly. My girls will be excited to see you again. Tata, Nicholas!" she hollered across the room, not really expecting a response. She was out of the room and through the front door before I could even pick my jaw up off the floor.
I heard the back door open and the footsteps of Nicholas walking up behind me. I turned around to face him and noticed he had fixed the buttons on his shirt.
"What's all the screaming about?" His eyes scanned the room. "Oh. Has she left already?" he asked me.
"Yep." I replied. "And it looks like we're going to Mr. Valentine's sooner than we expected."