[i]“I don’t think that’s possible tonight”[/i]

“I have never been more relieved to hear those words,” he confessed, catching his breath as he pulled back from her sweet, sweet lips. 

Her hands moved to unbutton his jacket first. He let her do it, watching her fingers move from one round button to the other until all of it were undone and his black outerwear was pushed over his shoulders. Nick shrugged it off, helping her with his vest then the white long sleeved button-up shirt underneath. 

Her fingers brushing lightly against the bare skin of his chest sent shivers through his body. Fingers from both his hands stumbled over the remaining buttons, his concentration broken. Nick retaliated by leaning forward and seeking her lips once more, but her hands were relentless in their exploration. As soon as the last of the buttons was released, though it was only after some moments of clumsy fumbling, Nick freed himself from his shirt. He did not dare check at his bandages, or cared that his wound hurt, Nick was just thankful that he could use both arms again. And with both his hands, he gathered the material of her chemise at the waist then pulled it up over her head, with her cooperation of course.

Then they were both lying on the bed, moving with the instincts of a man and a woman brought together by the holy matrimony. He remembered her telling him that all those stories about her were not true and he remembered doubting her words. Despite the tears shed that day, part of him had wanted to believe that the rumors were true, that Claire had committed adultery with another man, that the woman that was married to him was not as pure and perfect as she appeared to be. But that night, in a cheap inn, all his doubts were proved false. 

Although he moved with utmost care and gentleness, if only to pretend he believed her, the surprise must be visible on his face when he finally claimed her. Nick paused, the pupils of his blue eyes were dilated as he stared at her face as if it was the first time he really saw her. She had never been with another man before him. All those things she told him were the truth. 

He kissed her brow, then the tip of her nose, then her lips. Nick kissed her slowly as if she would break and when he pulled away to seek her eyes again, all his defenses were gone. “I’m sorry,” was all he managed to say. 
 
For not believing. For the hurt he caused. For the hurt he would surely cause.

********

The music had long faded away, swallowed by the night. Nick guessed that the patrons of the tavern had mostly left or were too drunk to continue dancing and singing. However, the melody was stuck in his head. He hummed the tune as he played with Claire’s golden hair. Curled up beside him, with her head on his shoulder, he wasn’t sure if she was asleep yet. He himself was feeling the weight of his eyelids was almost too unbearable, but pain from his side kept bringing his consciousness back. He did see a blotch of fresh red blood on the bandage, which might have meant that he did way too much for someone who had a near death experience not too long ago. Nick refrained from reacting to it as to not make Claire panic.

A number of things happened that day that it was indeed a long one. And when they got back to their house in Kensington, what would be Mr. Bennett’s news for him? Did he find anything suspicious, a note perhaps that would compromise Claire’s innocence? Surely Claire had nothing to do with the murder of her friend’s husband. She was a lady of gentle upbringing, after all. Why would she be involved in a criminal offense, much more murder? Unless there was a reason – something she mentioned earlier that day under the tree before they went into an argument. She was siding with Hawthorne, stating that there might be a reason behind his traitorous actions. He would know soon enough.