John entered the drawing-room, halting a few steps in as his eyes settled on the woman sitting at the writing desk. Her back was nearly to him but a slight angle allowed him to view her profile. Fully engrossed in her depictions on paper, Margaret remained ignorant of his entrance. Standing in place, he took on his normal stance with arms crossed, welcoming the chance to observe her unnoticed.
Many times before he imagined her sitting at that same desk as he walked in at the end of the day. Whether by her rising or him going to her, they rejoiced in the daily reunion. Little reveries, such as these, had her near to him in every room of the spacious house at one time or another.
These imaginations varied in size and scope. One would have her sitting across from him at the morning table as he shared news from the posts. Another had her standing by his side, breathtaking in a beautiful ball gown, as they greeted guests in their home.
At his own desk, whether in his study or office, lack of sleep had him staring wearily at the open doorway where a mirage of her would appear, gracefully entering his domain. She would place her hand on his shoulder to persuade him to come away from his work and join her for the rest of the evening. Together they would find themselves relaxing by the warmth of a fire, reliving the day’s events and planning for the morrow then retiring to the bedroom where he would reach for her intimately and hold her close.
Unfolding his arms, he inhaled deeply then exhaled the reality of her in his life. The dream-like visions were prophecies coming true and the angelic figure had materialized before him in the flesh.
Margaret’s pen stopped on its way to the inkwell as she stilled, turning in her seat, her eyes found him. Her face lighted but she did not rush to be in his arms again. He was disappointed at first but then that dissolved as her alternate actions played out.
She rose from the chair and came towards him, meeting him halfway in the center of the room.
Doe-like eyes blinked in a slowed motion as she regarded him. A faint, amused smile formed as fingers reached up to comb some hair back in place that had fallen on his forehead. Then she deliberately moved to adjust his collar that had gone distractingly out of place.
“There…that’s better,” she said with quiet emphasis, “it must be blustery out for you to come in looking this way.”
Her feminine attention had him completely mesmerized that he found he could not speak or move.
Moving her hand over his shoulder to the back of his neck and bracing her palm on the front of his black vest, Margaret brought his head down as she lifted hers up.
He took what she offered, tenderly at first, but then his increasing need for her demanded him to strengthening the intensity. She allowed his eagerness to take full control, causing his heart to thunder in his chest. No change of mind, no regrets, she still accepted him, and his joy reached new heights. Unable to contain himself, he...