Page 110 of The Quiet Wife
Sated from their lovemaking, they had fallen asleep in each other’s arms, but during the night, they had awoken twice. Twice! And each time, Jemie had taught her something new about lovemaking. The first time she had lain virtually inert beneath him, largely because that was all she knew. Jemie, she discovered, had other ideas.
She stifled a smile as she recalled his insistence that she be an active participant in their activities.At how she’d looked down on him as he writhed beneath her as she sat on… She had to put a hand to her mouth and pretend to cough. She couldn’t imagine doing those things other than with Jemie. And what he’d done with his mouth didn’t bear thinking about. She felt heat prickle the nape of her neck at the memory.
She coughed again.
“Are you coming down with a chill, my love?” Lizzie looked concerned. “You look a trifle flushed.”
Frances shook her head. “No, just a tickle.”
Jemie’s eyes glinted.
***
When reflecting on her life, Frances would always see the weeks that followed that first night with Jemie as one of the single most wonderful times of her life outside the joy of having her children. Lizzie and Edith knew what was afoot and were the most wonderful co-conspirators. Anna looked on them with worry but was as loving and kind as ever.
“Who put that look in your eye my girl?” Aunt Agatha asked when she arrived a couple of days later, nothing ever getting past her. Frances flushed bright pink and floundered. It didn’t take her long to work things out, and she, like Anna, looked on them with worry knowing the consequences if they were to be discovered.
Jemie painted furiously in the following days. They entertained, well, Lizzie and Jemie did, but that was good enough for Frances. He took them both all over London to see plays, gardens, exhibitions… It was rather like discovering what it might be like to be married to a man whose company she enjoyed. More than that, to a man who enjoyedhercompany.Little things like fun, laughter, and affection with Jemie were simply intoxicating. It was like he couldn’t get enough of her presence, and she realised how starved of affection she had been with Frederick for all these years.
Jemie listened to her. Valued her thoughts, her opinions and actually invited them. With Jemie, she felt like a person of consequence. Someone who mattered.
The nights they spent together were beyond words. They had been careful after that first time. Jemie had taken care of things and arrived the day after with a box of what he called prophylactics, a good deal of information on preventing a child, and an enthusiasm for trying a range of options that had made her laugh hysterically. And they had certainly tried everything. In fact, by the end of a couple of weeks with Jemie Whistler in her bed, she no longer felt anyone could describe her as strait-laced ever again! Not after the things that they had got up to. She felt quite… Modern, she supposed. She and Jemie made love often and with unabashed joy. She also discovered that the marital act did not have to take place in the marital bed. It could take place anywhere! Not only that, but at varying points in the day. It was not necessarily a night-time activity. Every time she thought of Jemie’s face and the sheer delight he took in introducing her to something new, she shivered inside.
She thought she would feel shame at the betrayal of her marriage vows, or that she would feel like a fallen woman, but the simple fact was, she didn’t. She’d suffered Frederick for years and enjoying a little happiness now didn’t seem wicked at all. She knew it couldn’t last, knew that there was no future for her and Jemie, but she regretted nothing about pursuing her desires.
They were expecting guests for dinner later in the week, and Frances was in the parlour of the Prince’s Gate house with him and Lizzie going over the arrangements.Several artists were attending, and there wasn’t a businessman in sight on the invitation list, which considerably lifted Frances’ spirits.
“Will you invite Freddie and the girls?” Jemie asked Lizzie as he ran his eye over the guest list and noted their absence.
“Would you mind?”
He gave her a look. “Of course not. I’m not having them hiding upstairs out of the way. It will do them good to meet some decent people and not feel they must be so rigid all the time.”
Lizzie laughed. “I couldn’t agree more, my beloved fiancé.” She jumped up and excused herself, leaving Frances in the room with Jemie who appeared baffled.
“Was it something I said?”
“I think she left me free to do this.” Frances wound her arms around his neck and kissed him. He kissed her back with tenderness, pulling her flush against him with a groan. She pulled away and tilted her head to look at him. He met her gaze and touched his nose briefly to hers.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“The children,” she said sincerely.
He touched his nose to hers again. “Don’t mention it.”
“I would like to meet your son.” She held his gaze.
He pressed his face into her neck. “I would love you to meet him.”
“Then we shall arrange it. I recall you mentioned something about an elephant and an escapee hippo?”
Jemie laughed softly.
“In fact, I think we should take Lizzie, Freddie, and the girls with us and then have you all around for tea. Everyone will love him as much as we love you.
“You would do that?” He paused, a look of surprise overcoming him.
