Sixteen

“My marriage,” Adalene started before she lost her nerve. “I don’t... I don’t know how I can do it. Louis Didier does not seem to be a man who would be easy to please. And I’m not sure I can make someone like him h-happy.”
They were in the parlor, resting on a comfortable couch after they settled down.
“It is not about you making him happy...” he said after a moment. “He is a miserable old man and should not be fit to marry a young woman. He would end up making you miserable. It is a most disastrous arrangement.”
“I know the money will help our farm tremendously.” She told him about the harshness of the last two winters, essentially explaining why her father was forced to do what he did. “I was to be arranged, anyway. For a while, I knew that. I was ready, in fact, as I did not want to lose another of my nieces and nephews. I try to avoid thinking about it, as hard as it is, because it has already happened. When my father informed me about the arrangement, I was actually relieved... even though I haven’t met this husband.”
“It is easier to avoid feeling pain from losing a loved one than marrying a stranger.”
Adalene nodded. “It was both painful and hard for all of us to lose little Mattie,” she said in a whisper almost, her chest heavy. “But aside from this, I don’t believe only money can make one happy.” She watched her hands as they lay, quivering and restless, on her lap. “Though it might not seem like it after what happened, I am happy living on my father’s farm. I believe I will be happier growing old without a husband than being m-married...” She gasped, stunned that she was saying too much of her thoughts and wishes. It must be the wine she had consumed during dinner. In fact, it could also be the reason for the giddiness around him. Or it might be the intimate activities they had already indulged in, and the sumptuousness of dinner.
But she was nervous now, too, about talking like this behind her husband’s back as another man listened. She looked up at him with wide eyes.
“Forgive me, I did not mean to imply that I don’t like men—”
“Don’t worry. I already know you particularly like one, at least,” he’d cut in, smiling, as his hand reached to caress her cheek.
She couldn’t help but smile at him and grow warm at the same time. “Yes, I particularly like one, that’s true.”
He sighed. “I am happy to give you a day’s respite from your troubles. I hope I can do... more.”
“Oh no, Fabian.” The dance had made it easier for her to call him by his given name. After all of this was done, she could only remember this time with so much gratefulness. “I do not wish to burden you more. I am very grateful for what you have done and what I have experienced because of you tonight. I never thought I would ever... it’s like a lovely tale in a book, what’s happening to me. Am I dreaming you?”
“You most certainly are not!” he replied, acting scandalized.
She laughed, but then sobered quickly. “I know I will remember this for the rest of my life!” And to her utter shock, she started to cry!
She turned hastily to hide her face, but a cry gave her away. He reached for her again and she found herself crying in his chest. She suddenly realized how absurd this must be for him. She was not of royal blood and she could not act as if she was delicate and frail, so she tried to control herself. She hastily wiped her tears away.
She took a deep breath and hardened her resolve.
“Fabian, I’m... I’m ready. Just tell me what to do and I’ll do it.”
“Ready for what?” he asked, bemused, though a moment ago he looked tensed when he pulled her to him, not allowing her to cry on her own, but looking helpless. Obviously, he didn’t want to see her crying. He was much like her brothers and father in this regard.
She looked at him. “I’m ready for my first night.”
“No, you’re not,” he said, with gentle conviction in his voice that was in contrast to the seriousness in his eyes. “A woman’s virginity is not something to be taken by force. You did not even know me before this day.”
“By force?” she repeated, confused. “Surely, you’ve not been thinking you were forcing me?”
“Of course, not. But rushing you felt like forcing you, too. We can wait.”
She blinked. Did he not want her anymore?
“There will be more days—”
“But I’ve done more with you than I ever did with any man.”
“—If we’re not in a hurry,” he continued. “And that’s it. You’ve not been like this with any man. What’s a day more so you can think?”
“I thought you were getting me ready. How can you say that I’m not? I want to know more... I don’t want to waste my first night with you. I’d like more memories to bring with me and sustain me. In the terrible days that are to come, if that is possible. If you will allow it.”
He suddenly had that hungry look on his face that she had first seen when he kissed her this afternoon on the riverbank, and she wondered how she could doubt he didn’t want her. “Oh, it’s not about allowing. I can’t control myself. I am trying very hard, ma bichette, to slow things down. Otherwise... I’ll have to return you to him at once. I want... to do more for you than you can imagine. I want you to stay with me for a longer time.”
She watched his face, and she believed him. “I thought you were getting impatient, that you might not want me anymore.”
“Right now, I’d like to tear that gown from you and spread you and take you—” he said, choked. Then she calmed him by breathing deep and slowly while watching him, shocked out of her wits, feeling the heat between her thighs at the vision of what he just described.
“What else?” she asked.
“Oh no, Adalene. It is hard now as it is.”
She couldn’t help but laugh at him.
His eyes narrowed. “You are enjoying this, inflicting me pain.”
“Is it painful to want me and not... do it?” she asked, lowering her eyes to the swelling visible in his pants.
He groaned, and she decided she could stop—for now. It was enough to know he really still wanted her. “But I can be milder... take it slower,” he said in a moment.
“You want to kiss me again?” she suggested eagerly.
“Oh, yes, ma bichette,” he admitted with a grin.
“Then, please, kiss me. Does that not make me ready? Doesn’t that mean you’re not forcing me?”
He laughed an abrupt sound that pleasantly tore at the softness of the room. But he did not need to even hesitate after that. He lowered his head, and he kissed her mouth. She kissed him back as fervently. She was aware of her racing heart, the sound of rushing blood in her ears, and how close their bodies touched through their clothes.
She dreamed of the time they could finally touch naked-skin-to-naked-skin. Right then, this was enough. But it was painful to want too much and not have it yet because she had to ‘think’ first. This baron was... so different from stories she had heard about aristocrats, who got what they wanted without expecting to ‘wait’ for it.
Adalene wished she could talk to her mother about the baron right now, to let her know her daughter was alright. He really was an honorable man and undoubtedly a gentleman. For now, she would concentrate on him.
His arms went around her and sealed the distance. He kissed her as if he was hungry to taste her, his lips prying her lips to open, his tongue delving in, flicking at her tongue and tracing the line of her teeth. She moaned inside his kiss. He nipped at her lower lip and then kissed her lingeringly before his head was raised from hers regretfully.
She was breathless, and when she opened her eyes, she could only blink at the seriousness of his face. He was breathless and red in the cheeks.
And he was scowling.