This World is Ours by India Millar

Author:India Millar [Millar, India]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Red Empress Publishing
Published: 2019-03-19T05:00:00+00:00

Fifteen

Everything bad

In life is balanced by a

Good. So we are straight

Callum was silent as he followed me into the bedroom. I was absurdly nervous. The gaslight in the bedroom was turned very low, and I was grateful for the dimness. I told myself that this was nonsense. Here I was with my own husband. The curtain that had hidden us from each other had finally been torn down. Surely, I should be joyful and full of anticipation. I was, but also was I worried. I sensed that this was make or break for us. What if the fire that had been between us had gone? What if lovemaking was…pleasant, and nothing more?

Nothing seemed to go right. My hands were clumsy as I pulled back the bedclothes. My fingernail caught in the sheets and I cursed it silently.

“I must tell the chambermaid she forgot to turn down the bed,” I said for want of something to say to break the silence.

“She didn’t forget. I told her not to bother. She was hanging about and got on my nerves,” Callum said.

“Oh.” I held my hands in front of my waist, fidgeting with a button.

“You still have your hat on,” Callum pointed out courteously. It was too much for my strained nerves to take. My hat was very large and was secured with many long pins. It had taken a few minutes to pin it into place and I had to have my maid’s help to get it right.

“Damn the bloody thing!” I shouted. “I don’t care about my hat!”

I grabbed it and tugged. It came halfway off, and then stuck. I tugged again and one of the hatpins scratched my hand quite deeply. The cut immediately began to ooze blood. I threw the hat on the floor and stared at my hand. I held it out to Callum, my lips quivering like a wounded child.

“It hurts,” I said simply.

“Does it? Shall I mend it for you?” Callum spoke gravely, as if I truly was a child. “Here. Give it to me.”

He took my fingers in his hand and tugged them to his lips, licking the blood away softly.

“Better?” I nodded. “And does it hurt anywhere else?”

“I think I may have many hurts,” I said seriously. “But nothing that can’t be mended, given a little time and attention.”

“Really? And would things be made better far more quickly if those hurts were given a lot of time and a lot of attention?”

I had almost forgotten what my husband—my dear, lost husband—sounded like. I had had enough of teasing. I fell against him and wrapped my arms around his waist.

“Callum, I’m sorry,” I whispered into his skin.

“You’re sorry? No, dear one. You have nothing to be sorry for. If I weren’t such a stupid, pig-headed idiot, there would have been no unkindness between us.”

I searched for words to answer him with comfort and understanding and found none. But it didn’t matter. Callum picked me up in his arms as if I was the weight of a child.

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