The Bride Price

Chapter Nine

Emily awoke to a tremendous feeling of comfort and warmth. She couldn't even be certain if she was truly awake, so fuzzy and disordered were her thoughts. But the mattress beneath her did not have too many lumps, and the pillow smelled reasonably fresh, and the arm draped across her waist...

Her eyes fluttered open. The room was suffused with a soft, grey light. It was early yet, perhaps only a few minutes past dawn. The fire had gone out some time during the night, and there was a definite chill in the air above the covers. Emily glanced up and saw the window, still open from the evening before. Beyond the frame, there was the murky white of fog and mist, and the chitter of a nearby bird sounded almost ghostly amid the shifting clouds.

Emily pressed her cheek into the pillow and shut her eyes. Beside her in the bed, William still lay sleeping, his breathing slow and steady. She shifted slightly beneath the blanket, afraid to wake him with her movements, but he only nestled closer towards her, his arm tightening around her waist for a moment before he again relaxed.

She expected to feel at least a small amount of awkwardness or discomfort upon waking to find William so close to her. His chest was against her back, and at some point during their slumber, she had managed to tuck her bottom into his hips, so that she was cradled against him. But instead of experiencing any sort of shock, she felt nothing more than incredibly... content.

Her sleep had been deep and untroubled, for the first time in months, possibly even years. She had not slept so soundly since they'd been living in her father's house at Bodmin. And even then —for the last few years, at least—it had been her mother's illness that had kept her up nearly every night.

She remained still for a moment, though the desire to move and to stretch was nearly overwhelming. She hadn't thought of her mother's illness for months. Yes, her mother was always in her thoughts, but it was the memories of her from when she'd been healthy, when she'd been lucid and well enough to carry on a conversation or even go for a short stroll that filled her mind. But Emily hadn't allowed herself to dwell on those last few months, the ones during which her mother had been confined to her rooms, confined to her bed, her body wasting away while the sickness slowly ate its way through her.

During all that time, Emily had never left her mother's side. Towards the end, she had even set up a cot in her mother's room and slept there so that she could be immediately available should her mother call for her during the night. Those weeks had been the most difficult, when her mother's sleep had become so fitful that the edges of day and night had blurred together and Emily lost track of all time, even the passage of days.

But last night, for the first time in she couldn't remember how long, she had slept. Unbroken and undisturbed. She had found rest.

Emily looked towards the window again and noticed that the room had brightened during the few minutes she'd had her eyes closed. She finally gave in to the urge to stretch out her legs, and she felt an unexpected shiver course through her as her own bare legs brushed against and tangled with her husband's. Whether the shiver was of a pleasant nature or not, she couldn't tell. But the warmth of the bed and his body, the comfort she took from his touch was enough that she experienced some disappointment when William began to stir beside her.

She couldn't see his face, but she heard his breathing change, felt the stretch and pull of his muscles against her body as he shifted and slowly pulled himself up onto one elbow.

There was a sudden coolness as his arm slipped from around her waist. She rolled onto her back then, rather than let him believe she was still sleeping, and surveyed his expression in the pale morning light.

He looked to be still partially asleep, his eyes heavy and blinking slowly. His hair was tousled, the gold curls sticking out every which way until he yawned and combed his fingers back from his forehead. He seemed to notice her then, or to notice that she was awake, and she saw something in his eyes, a flash of awareness and of... of something very much like yearning, before the light in his eyes was shuttered and he put on a more guarded air.