Arthur spoke up first. “I believe he has a new idea for a book and just wants to write down notes, so they don’t escape him.”
“Oxford is coming up as well, and I’m sure he has to prepare for that,” Cathryn said.
“You don’t sound too happy about it,” Daphne said.
“I’m proud of him, of course, and don’t get me wrong, I’m fine with him going by himself. He just doesn’t open up like most people.”
“You knew that going in,” Daphne reminded her.
“Yes, it’s just he can be so eccentric and doesn’t realize he’s being odd.”
“Give him time. He’s adjusting better than I thought he would,” Arthur said.
“I know, and I will,” Cathryn replied. “If you two will excuse me. I’m sure you’d like part of what’s left of the evening to yourselves. I’ll see you both tomorrow.”
Cathryn headed upstairs to their wing. Rather than bother her husband, she went to her dressing room and readied herself for bed. She picked up a book she’d started reading and headed to the sitting room. She startled when she saw Charles sitting in front of a writing desk furiously writing something down. He hadn’t heard her come in, so she inched closer and gently placed her hand on his shoulder. He didn’t appear to notice she was there.
“I’m going to go read in bed,” she said, knowing saying anything regarding not staying up too late was wasted on Charles when he was in the middle of something.
Charles himself never recalled his wife having come to say good night. When his attention was focused on something such as his writing, he was completely immersed in his own little world. He knew he needed to try and fix that. How he wasn’t sure, but one thing he was sure of was that it was late, and he was tired. The evening in particular had been exhausting. It was timeto get some rest. Everything he’d just done would be there in the morning.
He hadn’t realized how tired he was until his head hit his pillow. Cathryn lay beside him, facing toward the far wall, gently snoring. He snuggled in behind her, wrapping his arm around her. Immediately, he felt his body begin to respond to having her so close. He lay like that until he couldn’t stand it any longer.
Turning her onto her back, he spread her legs and in moments, he was inside her. She was ready for him. How, he didn’t understand, but he began a steady rhythm, and as he felt himself nearing his own orgasm, he gently placed his hand in between them, stroking her nub until she awoke. Startled by the sensation, she cried out as her body exploded in ecstasy. He found himself unable to control his own response and plunged in one final time, feeling his seed drain into her.
Rolling off her, Charles leaned over and kissed her, and she responded lazily. He pulled her close to him.
“That was an unexpected and nice surprise,” she said softly, rubbing her hand across his chest.
He grunted.
Cathryn giggled at his response. “What does that mean?”
“I was agreeing with you. Did I do it wrong?”
“Heavens, no. It was wonderful.”
“Good. It was for me too.”
He felt her kiss the skin on his shoulder. “We should really try and get a few hours’ sleep. The house will wake shortly.”
“I find myself falling asleep.”
The last thing he thought he remembered was Cathryn whispering the words “I love you.”
Sleep overtook him before he had time to respond. Instead, he had dreams. Dreams of them somewhere tropical. He couldn’t recall where as places which were hot year round didn’t interest him. A year was supposed to have four seasons.
His parents appeared in his dream. It was hot and humid. Everyone was miserable. His parents were ignoring him almost like they didn’t know who he was. What was this and where was he?
Not waking up, his mind found another dream, only in this one, he and Cathryn were riding horses on a beach. He liked to sneak out and do that on Wight. There was something about a horse cantering through the sand, the breeze running through your hair or standing knee high in the water that appealed to him. In the dream, he watched as Cathryn rode her horse to him. She had a huge smile on her face and then everything turned dark. Was he dreaming this or was it real? Why was it dark?
*
Walking into thebreakfast room, found his brother scouring the newspapers. Usually, Arthur didn’t do this until he’d finished eating. This morning, he was doing both at the same time.
The two men exchanged pleasantries and Charles sat down while a footman set a plate filled with his favorites.
“Is something important going on? Are we at war?” Charles asked, picking up a piece of toast and slathering some marmalade on it.
