Ceasebury: Chapter Twenty-Two

“Theodosia.” It said. I hurried over to the window and flung it open.

“Valentine!” I said in alarm upon seeing his waves of dark hair and sweet sapphire eyes staring up at me.

“Sorry I’m here unannounced.” He laughed.

“Oh Valentine, I’m so happy to see you.” I cried, pulled his torso closer to me.

“Its cold out here, mind if I come in?” she whispered.

“Please do.” I giggled.

“I brought a book.” He smiled as he hoisted himself over the threshold into my bed chamber. He fell with an unceremonious plonk into the light blue carpet and quickly got to his feet, brushing his white duelling blouse. He pulled two books out of his pantaloons and held them up.

“You see, I didn’t want to be late to my duel, so I was hoping you might allow me to sleep in the chair by the window.” He smiled. “And I thought you might like to read these.”

“What are they?” I asked.

“Well, the first the Metaphysic of Morals by Kant and the second is a book from a little behind the counter of a gentleman called Mr Jameston.” He gave me a cheeky smirk.

“Why don’t spend the night in my bed?” I smiled.

“What? And you sleep on the chair? I won’t have my lady sleeping in the chair while I sleep in her bed.” He laughed.

“No, you know that’s not what I meant.” I smiled, stepping a little closer to him.

“Oh.” He moved in closer. “I guess we’ll see.” He smiled.

“Well, I think we should start by reading the books.”

“Shall we start with Kant’s book?” he said. I nodded. He took a seat upon my bed and become to read to me.

“Valentine.” I cut across him.

“Yes, Theodosia?” he whispered.

“Please don’t kill Dorian.” I whimpered.

“What?”

“At dawn, please don’t kill him.”

“Oh god no. Definitely not, I won’t hurt him. I only called a duel to scare him a bit, since he knows how good my shot is, I just did it to remind him he can’t disrespect you, he probably wont even show up.” Valentine laughed.

“Really?” I asked. He nodded.

“Shall I continue reading?” he asked.

“How about we try the other book?” my voice trailed off.

“Okay.” He whispered. He placed the first book down and picked up Mr Jameston’s novel and began to read. The light of the lantern glistened and cast our flickering shadows across the wall. The shadows seemed to move dimly, as if caught in some inexplicable dream. The illusion they created was far greater than the illusion the people the shadows belonged to were under, although the shadows must have been commanded in some way by their master and mistress, for as we began to kiss, so did they, casting their subtle darkness across the wall. There was a sudden knock on the door.

“Hide!” I said in a hurried whisper. Valentine leapt under my bed and the door was opened by Cheyenne.

“Sorry to disturb you at this hour, but I saw your light was still on I have taken the carriage back down the Williamsburg to give the notice that Gabriella is missing to Mr Jameston and he has told me to give this to you. Cheyenne handed me a little envelope with a crimson red seal with a stallion rearing up. “Is everything okay in here, Miss?” she asked, her eyes scanning the chamber.

“Yes, of course is it.” I said with hurried assurance.

“Okay.” She smirked and turned on her heel to leave, shutting the door behind her. Valentine rolled out from under the bed where he had been hiding to stand up and sit himself back down upon the bed with the book.

“Shall we continue?” he smiled.

“I want to kiss you again.” I whispered. He accepted, taking my face in his hands and kissing my lips with his in a moment of passion. He picked up the book.

“Valentine, there’s something else I want to try tonight.” I whispered.

“What is it?” he smiled tentatively.

“I want us to make love now that we know we are to marry.” I whispered, taking my hand up to caress his jawline.

“Before we do that, we should probably get a little more acquainted with each other physically, don’t you think?” he giggled. “I think we should at least try touching each other a little first.” He whispered. I nodded. He smiled softly. “Okay, lay on the bed.” I lay back slightly. “Relax.” I did. He slipped his hand gently up the skirt of my dress. He slipped his hand further and further up my thighs. “Tell me where to stop.” He whispered, leaning down over me. I didn’t say anything. He continued. “This might hurt a little at first.” I let out a little gasp. “Are you alright?” he asked. I nodded. He began to kiss my neck slowly as I watched the flickering candle cast our affectionate shadows upon the wall.

“What should I do to you, Valentine?” I asked him.

“Well, you can kiss me.” He smiled, sitting up a little. I sat up a little and rested my head against his muscular chest.

“But what can I do for you like what you just did for me?” I swallowed.

“Don’t worry about it.” He whispered.

“Valentine,” I paused “can you take your shirt off?” I asked. He smiled and pulled his white ruffled duelling blouse over his head, allowing it to flutter to the floor where it lay undisturbed upon the blue carpet. “There’s something I read about in a book once.” I swallowed.

“Oh?” he asked.

“It was the memoires of a man who had been living in France and had visited women of the night while he was there.”

“Go on.”

“He said in his memoires that in Paris he visited a girl who did something to him called fellatio.” I smiled shyly.

“Yes. I’ve heard of that.” He smirked.

“Has a girl ever done that to you before, Valentine?” I asked tentatively, half fearing the answer.

“No.” he shook his head with a little more smirking “Its really a French thing, I’ve hardly ever heard of it happening here.”

“Would you like me to try it?” I asked him.

“If you want.” His voice trailed off. I nodded. He smiled. I watched as the flickering figures in the candlelit shadow on the wall kissed a little, then one kneeled down and began. Once they had finished, the shadows held each other and sat down on the white sheets on the four poster bed and kissed a little longer, climbing in beneath the duvets.

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