"Did you pull your skirt up to see if I would?" he asked.
"Of course not!" she snapped. "It was an accident At least it was that time," Esme admitted.
"For shame," Cleav chided. "Trying to lure me into sin just so I'd marry you."
"Well, how else . . ." she began, but as Cleav moved from her, she cut off her words.
Esme was dismayed as he pulled away from her to rise.
"I'm sorry, Cleav, I . . ."
Folding his arms across his chest Cleav leaned against the counter and raised a condemning eyebrow.
"Well, it didn't work, young woman," he stated flatly. "I resisted all your temptation and I'm sure heaven has properly noted the fact and marked it down in my favor."
"But you did marry me," Esme pointed out as she pushed herself up into a sitting position.
"But not because you beguiled me to it" he said.
That was true, Esme realized. All of her attempts at seducing him had been thwarted. He'd never sinned with her; people only thought that he had.
"You married me because of the town gossip," Esme said quietly.
Cleav leaned down and pulled up her chin to face him.
"Because of these garters," he said, pointing to the only clothing she wore.
Esme ran a hand across the one remaining guilty, pretty, pink and white confection of ribbon and lace.
"I guess you regret giving them to me," she whispered, a lump in her throat making it strangely difficult to speak.
Cleav didn't answer. He turned from her. Naked, he strolled to the far end of the store and opened one of the drawers in the counter.
Blushing, Esme assumed the precious moments of closeness were over and began to reach for her clothing. So quickly it was over. Just moments ago, she'd felt so secure, so prized.
Cleav turned toward her, but Esme couldn't look at him. Now she felt naked. Now she felt ashamed.
Walking back to her, the counter drawer in his arms, he called to her.
"Sit still, Esme."
At his words she stopped searching for her camisole.
"Don't dress yet, Hillbaby," he said softly.
Coming to a stop beside her, Cleav stared down at his new wife, naked, on a remnant of rose crepe de chine. He gave her the smallest of smiles before upending the drawer over her head.
"What?" Esme started with surprise, then giggled with delighted laughter.
It was raining garters.
Chapter Fourteen
Cleavis stepped out of the hatching house and spied Esme lying lazily and contentedly beside the brooders' pond.
"Shirker!" he called out as he casually headed toward her direction.
Esme rolled onto her back and held an arm across her forehead to block out the sun's glare. "I'm just resting, Mr. Rhy," she told him with a teasing hit to her voice. "Save to graces, I've only been married three days, and I swear to you, my husband doesn't let me get a wink of sleep all night!"
