The Song of the Thrush by Christine Pope

Author:Christine Pope [Pope, Christine]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dark Valentine Press
Published: 2017-11-10T23:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 8

The clean clothes bobbed on the clothesline outside the kitchen window, and the cottage was filled with the scent of roasting chicken. I had dusted again, since I found a few cobwebs Corin and I had missed that first night, and the little house practically shone.

I wanted to be a proper wife to him. If only I was not so afraid.

Lynnis’ revelations had not made me feel better about the situation…rather the reverse. Because now the mystery had been explained to me, and although my friend had sworn that the marriage bed was a wonderful thing, I was not sure I believed her. Taken purely on a physical and factual level, the act did seem more than a little frightening.

Besides, she had known Hal well when they were married — they had grown up in the hamlet here together, were childhood friends before they were sweethearts. She would have been relaxed and easy with him, whereas I did not see how I could possibly be relaxed when expected to engage in such activities with a person I hardly knew.

But perhaps…perhaps I should allow Corin to kiss me more. Yes, that seemed like a good, cautious first step. After all, I had enjoyed that first kiss, even while I had writhed at the thought of having to marry a perfect stranger. Once I was comfortable with kissing him, then perhaps it would not be so difficult to allow matters to progress further.

The door opened and he entered, just as windblown and grape-stained as he had been the day before. But he smiled at me and said, “I see that you have had yet another productive day.”

“I hope so, Corin.” Inwardly, I winced at the sight of his filthy shirt, for it brought home to me the realization that all these chores would be never-ending, that as soon as I was done with one, I would have at least three more tasks to manage. However, I tried to push the thought away, because I truly was happy to see the way he smiled at me. I let my gaze linger on his lips, and wondered what it would be like to have him kiss me again — truly kiss me, sweep me into his arms and hold me close, rather than have such a chaste embrace as the one we’d shared during our wedding ceremony.

Something in the air between us seemed to change then, and his gaze fastened on mine and held. My heart began to beat harder in my chest, and I realized my knees felt somewhat weak.

“I — I need to look in on our dinner,” I managed, and hurried away before he could say anything to stop me.

Nor did he attempt any kind of pursuit. I heard his footsteps go down the hall, where he no doubt was headed toward his room so he might change his shirt. After checking on the chicken and assuring myself that it was cooking evenly, I took up a basket, went outside, and began pulling down our clothes from the line I had strung between two trees.

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