Lies and Misdemeanours

“I am staying with my wife,” Charlie said calmly but firmly. A calm watchfulness settled over Charlie that increased the tension in the hallway.

Hetty stared at him nonplussed for a moment. A wild thrill of delight swept through her at the thought that he wanted her to share his bed with him, at the same time that she was slightly nervous that her brothers might disagree.

Simon opened his mouth to argue but, before he could speak, Charlie nudged Hetty toward his room.

“She is my wife. She stays with me.” His eyes challenged Simon to deny it.

Simon studied his friend for a moment, before he nodded. “Fair enough.”

To her amazement, Simon disappeared into the room, and reappeared moments later with a small bag of her belongings.

“Here you go,” he said, and handed her the bag before he headed toward the top of the stairs.

“Thank you,” she murmured, but was fairly certain that he hadn’t heard her because he had already disappeared in the direction of the kitchens.

“Come on, let’s go and see what we have,” Charlie urged when she didn’t seem inclined to move.

He opened the door, and stood back to allow her in first.

The large square room was lavishly furnished in blue and white, adorned with nothing more than a bureau, a massive, intricately carved fireplace, and a small side-table. The low beams on the ceiling added to the somewhat intimate atmosphere within the room, embellished by the large four-poster bed which sat in resplendent glory in the centre of the room.

“It’s wonderful,” Hetty whispered as she studied the plush seats that bracketed the fireplace, and the huge landscape oil paintings that adorned each of the walls.

“It is, isn’t it?” Charlie agreed somewhat wearily as he wandered around the room, inspecting things. “There is no bath I am afraid, but there is plenty of water on the wash-stand.”

She studied the dresser with a very expensive porcelain jug and bowl on it, and sighed. She was tired, achy, and wanted to lie down just to rest her head for a while, but the pristine bed covers on the huge four-poster bed were clean and fresh. She didn’t want to cover them with the dust off her clothing. She glanced down at herself and sighed.

When she looked up, Charlie was watching her. Her stomach flipped nervously as the intimacy of the moment dawned on her. She remained frozen in place as she watched him saunter toward her. Ready for his kisses, she watched as he wandered straight past, and picked up the retiring screen in the corner of the room. Before she could say anything, he positioned it in front of the dresser.

“I will find something clean to wear while you get cleaned up. I will be back in a while with some more water,” he murmured.

He paused long enough to kiss her gently on the cheek before he quietly let himself out.

There was no lock on the door but, with the retiring screen in place, she didn’t really need one. Determined to make use of the time she had alone, she hurried over to the window.

Once the shutters were closed, she removed her soiled and dirty clothes and saw to her ablutions. Although the water was cold, the floral scented soap and the refreshing water soothed her. She wished she could take a long soak in a bath, but didn’t want to go downstairs to ask the men for anything so frivolous. They had enough to deal with without pandering her to her whims, and she really didn’t want to spend the next hour ferrying buckets of water upstairs herself.

Instead, she made do with what she had, washed the dust off, and enjoyed a few, now precious, moments to herself.

She was busy squeezing blessedly cool water over her neck when her peace was suddenly shattered.

“How is everything? Do you like it?” His voice was so near, and so unexpected, that she let out a squeak as she whirled to face him.

Her cheeks flooded with colour as she stared at him. She hadn’t heard him enter. Her eyes locked with his for several moments before his gaze broke away, and she felt the slow slide of his eyes sweep over her.

It was then that she realised she had nothing on. Before she could lunge for something to cover herself with, he stepped forward.

“God, Hetty, you are stunning,” he murmured hoarsely.

Her sight of her pink-tinged flesh lured him closer. He could see goose bumps on her smooth skin, and watched the obvious signs of chill on her gently rounded frame. His body leapt to life and he knew that neither of them would be going anywhere for the time being.

Words failed him at the beauty that was his wife. Before she could lambast him for interrupting her moment of privacy, he stepped forward and swept her high into his arms.

“What are you doing?” she gulped, but clung to him anyway.

“I just realised that we have yet to sleep in a proper bed,” he replied in a manner that was casual, but completely at odds with the intent look in his eye.

“Are we going to sleep?” she whispered as he slowly lowered her onto the crisp, cool sheets.