A Heart for Milton

A Heart for Milton - Chapter 15

A Heart for Milton - Chapter 15
 

Along the dim alleyways and squalid streets of the darkened city, a gray-headed man with a lantern made his rounds, tapping the bedroom windows of the factory workers with his long, weathered stick. Inside, the languid sleepers grudgingly rose to throw on their workaday clothes and head for Hamper's, Slickson's, Thornton's and the like. Their day of rest would be a mere memory until the whistle blew at four on Saturday.

In the stately house at Marlborough Mills, the Master woke to the gray light of early dawn. He turned to see his wife sleeping beside him, her hand gently curled over his arm. Her hair sprawled over her pillow and spilled onto the space next to him. A warm smile spread over his face - this was just how he imagined it should be.

Contrary to his every inclination, he forced himself to carefully extract himself from her sleeping grasp, and rose from the bed to prepare for his day. He knew it was the only way he would get to work on time.

He quietly set about getting dressed. As he passed by the bedside, his eyes fell on the pile of green satin and lace lying crumpled on the floor. A stirring of desire rushed through his veins as he remembered her enthralling seduction last evening and the passion that had followed. He studied the shape of her sleeping form beneath the sheets before allowing his gaze to rest on the pink fullness of her gently parted lips.

He shook his head briefly and took a deep breath to bring himself back to his present duty. It required every ounce of his practiced willpower to continue with his routine. How he had enjoyed the blissful leisure of their mornings in Helstone! But there was much to accomplish now; he could not let his mind be overtaken by the sweet pleasures of marriage. It should be enough that she would be waiting for him when his day's work was over.

He was tying his cravat in the mirror when he heard her stir and he turned to watch her wake. She sat up and propped herself upon one arm, modestly holding the sheet to her chest as she did so.

"You are already dressed," she complained groggily, accustomed to their usual languor.

"Unfortunately, our holiday is at an end and I must return to my work," he said gently.

"I understand," she replied, endeavoring not to sound disappointed. "But since you are master, if you should occasionally be a little late, there would be no one to mark your time, would there?" she asked curiously.

A lopsided grin formed on his face at her astute assessment. "No, there would not," he agreed.

"Even if I dressed quickly, you will surely be finished with your breakfast by the time I am ready," she calculated bleakly. "May I not at least have a good-bye kiss before you depart?" she asked hopefully.

More than willing to comply with her request, he sat on the edge of the bed and leaned over to oblige. As she leaned forward to meet him, her covering fell away, but she heeded it not as she received his tender kiss. She moved to cover herself again as he withdrew, but his eyes quickly ravished her loveliness before she had accomplished her purpose. His bed had never looked so warm and inviting.

Mr. Thornton stood up and decisively removed the cravat he had so meticulously tied moments before. He cast the black silk to the dressing table.

"What are you doing?" she asked in surprise as she observed him unbutton his shirt with swift precision.

"As you so conveniently pointed out, there is no one to mark my time," he answered smartly. "So, I have decided to be late today," he informed her, giving her a look of warning for her culpability in disrupting his iron schedule.

She giggled quietly to herself at how easily the master had changed his mind and sank back onto her pillow to happily await her husband's return to bed.