Breathtaking Part: One

Hugh sat motionless in the small chair facing the bed. He refused to leave Matilda tonight, fearing the experiences of the long difficult day might produce some kind of night terror. Not that she was prone to that sort of thing, but Sunday had been a very unusual day.

She was so tired when they went upstairs that her eyes were already closing before they reached their rooms. He scooped her up in his arms, nudged the door with his foot and easily carried her through the sitting room and into her boudoir.

Hugh gently laid Matilda across the bed and slowly attempted to remove her clothing. At least he was able to get them loosened, he thought. And he did remove her skirt. Without her help though, the other clothes would remain on her person. She made no move to wake up, so he decided that she probably would not mind. He smiled lovingly, wondering about how a lady could wear so many clothes at one time. It was indeed a mystery to him.

He watched Matilda sleeping so soundly in the big four-poster bed. In the quiet, his thoughts now lingered to the bed. He had it custom-made as a wedding surprise for her. When they were younger, she would twirl around while talking to him about her thoughts for her dream home and how each room would look. He considered that his main goal in life was to make all of Matilda's dreams come true and he started with that bed.

Several hours passed before Matilda finally awoke. She had been so exhausted that she could only vaguely recall Hugh's assistance in preparing her for bed. She could see that he did not complete the task, but she loved it that he tried.

Without saying a word, Matilda sat up and stretched her arms out toward Hugh. He quickly moved from the chair to the deep, soft comfort of the bed, removing his robe as he crossed the floor. He sunk in deep beside her and she welcomed him into her arms. Their embrace was as if it were for the very first time.

Finally feeling bound by the clothes, Matilda tugged at her blouse for him to finish the job. Hugh raised up slightly on his elbow and tugged at her blouse. He pulled the top about halfway up, then stopped and gave Matilda a long-overdue kiss. She parted her lips, and his tongue swept into her warm cavern. Matilda's eyes smoldered as she panted. He loved her so.

Hugh slowly moved his hands up and down her arms, then slid his arm around to her back. As his fingers fumbled with a back button, Matilda turned away, allowing him to undo the stream of buttons cascading down the back of her blouse. He lifted the blouse over her head and quickly removed her undergarments, with a sigh of relief that there was no corset. He knew she often wore a corset on Sundays.

Hugh began kissing Matilda again, this time pressing her breasts against his bare chest, her back pressed into the deep comfort of the red and gold duvet that covered the bed. They made love until dawn broke.

Matilda nuzzled, sinking deep into Hugh's strong bare chest. He bent his head down to kiss the top of her head, wrapping his arms tighter around her.

Three loud knocks interrupted their bliss. "I do beg your pardon, Sir." The nervous voice of their butler echoed from behind a door. "But a Sir Brandy demands to see Mrs. Larkin."

Hugh slowly sat up, bringing Matilda up with him, then placed her back on the bed like a little doll. "What does he want?" Hugh questioned his butler, trying not to sound too put-off. He stood up and searched for his clothes, then recalled that they were not in this room. He found his robe hanging on the four-poster bed and wrapped it around him.

The butler cleared his throat. "Pardon my intrusion, but he seems to believe that Mrs. Larkin knows the whereabouts of Miss Thea," he shouted, still standing outside their hallway door, embarrassed and uncomfortable.

Hugh rolled his eyes. "How absurd!"

"Sir, if you do not mind my saying this, it took all I had to keep him from barging up the steps. He says he holds a letter that states Mrs. Larkin knows the whereabouts of Miss Thea."

Now Hugh perked up, feeling protective toward his wife. He quickly tied the long robe and left the boudoir. Rushing through the sitting room, he grabbed open the hallway door to face his butler. "What letter?"

Hugh's bare feet cracked against the wooden floors as he left the sitting room and bounded down the staircase.

"Have a maid get Matilda ready within two hours, Locksley," he shouted back to his butler.

"Excellent, Sir." The butler bowed to Hugh's retreating form.

When Sir Brandy saw Hugh, he drew up his height and boldly demanded, "Where is she?" Sir Brandy waved a letter around as he appeared to march back and forth in the foyer.

"Where is who?" Hugh asked, sliding his hands into his robe pockets.

"My Thea, my darling Thea," Sir Brandy whispered, almost weeping into the letter he still held onto tightly.

"Explain yourself, man. Why are you here at this hour?" Hugh stared down the distraught gentleman. His stoic eyes floated top to bottom taking in every detail, from the man's unruly entrance to his unclean, disheveled appearance. He probably hasn't changed or bathed since Thea's disappearance either, Hugh thought. While he was acquainted with Sir Brandy, they did not associate socially. Hugh considered this egregious behavior as very out of character for a gentleman of his status.

Sir Brandy's face went red and his nostrils flared. "You must know it was your wife who wrote these letters! Teasing on Thea's indiscretion! Every day she writes using Thea's name. This final letter is what broke me!"

Every word from Sir Brandy's mouth convicts him, Hugh thought. Is he now standing in my home erupting in fury, actually confirming his own indiscretion? To Hugh's knowledge this had only been considered ladies' room idle gossip. A married man of Sir Brandy's social position could not afford to be confirmed of such an ostracism. Hugh placed his finger over his mouth in a shushing motion, in an effort to calm the overly-emotional outburst from Sir Brandy.

"Matilda is getting ready," Hugh quickly offered.

"Good! When can I question the miscreant?" Sir Brandy stood pompously in front of Hugh, boldly challenging the master of the house.

Hugh's face went livid. Now his own rage took charge, seizing control to end this situation. "You DO realize you are in my home!" Hugh spoke, seething, his anger very evident in his tone. Hugh's right hand formed a fist in his pocket, preparing for some type of altercation. He raked the other hand through his hair, thinking how dare this vile Man!

Confronted by Hugh's anger, Sir Brandy suddenly appeared to back away. "I beg your pardon." Sir Brandy's eye's furrowed, but he relaxed his rigid stance. "Excuse me, but you are the ones who are hiding my Thea from me. My poor precious Thea," Sir Brandy wailed.

The unsettling rage disappeared as quickly as it came. Hugh sighed, rolling his eyes. "Letter!" He held out his hand as he spoke. Sir Brandy stormed over, depositing the letter into Hugh's hand.

"This is not Matilda's handwriting," Hugh blurted out after a brief scanning.