Chapter 37

Crawford knocked on the door and waited. He held his breath as he heard someone approach and watched the doorknob turn. The heavy wooden door swung open to reveal a tall dark haired woman with delicate features, soulful brown eyes, and slightly protruding belly.

“Yes?” she asked.

Crawford wrinkled his forehead as he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out the scrap of paper that had the address written on it. He glanced at it and then at the house number next to the door, “Sorry, I guess this is the wrong address. This is Birch Street, right?”

Her hand flew up to her mouth and she gasped, “Oh! Dear Lord!”

Crawford raised his eyebrow obviously surprised at her reaction.

“Your accent! You’re British,” she said.

He smirked and responded, “That I am. I’m looking-”

“For Elizabeth,” she finished. “You’re him. Oh my, she’s going to faint dead away. Come in, come in!”

The woman stepped aside and swept out her arm, inviting him into the two-story brownstone.

“I’m Janna,” she said.

“Unusual name,” said Crawford as he watched her close the door.

“My family emigrated from Romania back in 1905, it’s quite common, really, amongst the Kalderash,” explained Janna.

“Is Elizabeth here?” he asked looking round.

“No, she’s at School. She’s teaching again over at Harvard. What am I thinking? Set down your bag and let me take your coat,” said Janna.

“Are you roommates?” he asked as he handed her the coat.

“What? No!” she said as she hung it on the coat rack that was there in the foyer. “I live next door. We’re friends and I’ve been babysitting for her since she’s started teaching again. I’ll have my own little one here soon,” she said patting the swell in her tummy. “I’m sure the two of them will be fast friends. Come into the living room?”

Crawford’s head was spinning as he followed her into the next room. The walls were painted a soft cream color. There was a large Persian carpet covering the dark hardwood floors that reminded him of the exotic richly colored carpets of Arabia. On the far wall was a rather large fireplace where there was already a roaring fire crackling inside. The walls on either side of the fireplace were lined with floor to ceiling built in bookcases, stocked with all kinds of books. There were two brown leather sofas sitting perpendicular to the fireplace with a square coffee table in between.

“Did you say-” he started to ask.

“Hi, Honey! I’m home!” he heard a familiar voice shout.

He turned around swiftly. It seemed, suddenly, as if everything slowed down. He watched as Ahmed walked into the room. As their eyes met he felt the bottom of his stomach drop out.

“Goodness! William! Why didn’t you tell us you were coming?” asked Ahmed as he walked over to him and extended his hand.

Crawford automatically returned the handshake. “I-” he started to say, looking around the room and feeling the need to escape.

“Won’t Elizabeth be surprised!” said Ahmed walking over to the table under the window that held some crystal glasses and a small array of liquor bottles. “Let’s have a toast!” he suggested as he poured two fingers of scotch out for each of them. “To your safe return!” he said as he handed William a glass and raised his.

Crawford raised his glass and said, “Cheers,” before taking a sip.

The brief silence was interrupted by the sound of an infant crying. Crawford turned his head in the direction of the sound. The scotch tasted bitter in his mouth and he struggled to swallow it. He realized that Janna had said something, but he had no idea what it was. She left the room and he watched as Ahmed settled himself comfortably on one of the sofas.

“Sit, William!” said Ahmed.

Crawford’s jaw was clenched so tight it hurt. He was filled with resentment. “Too late, too late,” he thought as instead of sitting he walked over to the window and glanced out. “So, you got lucky after all,” he said staring into the bottom of his glass. “Looks like you’re a family man again. Got to say, I didn’t expect this. Never saw it coming. Don’t know why…” he said quietly.

“I’ve got so much to tell you and so many questions,” began Ahmed. “But, what am I thinking? You must meet Hope! She’s simply beautiful, William.”

Without waiting for a response Ahmed stood up and walked out of the room. “Come on!” he shouted as he started to climb the stairs two at a time.

“Bloody, hell!” murmured Crawford as he quickly downed the drink and followed him. As he reached the foot of the stairs he glanced back at his overcoat that hung from the coat rack in the foyer.

“She’s the spitting image of her mother!” said Ahmed enthusiastically.

Crawford swallowed and slowly climbed the stairs, trying to prepare himself. He felt as if his heart was breaking. Everything, everything was lost and now belonged to another man. He may have beaten Ahmed on that morning back in Arabia, but Ahmed had been the final victor. He had never felt so alone, so empty.

“Daddy’s home! Yes, he is!” he heard Janna say as she finished changing the baby.

Crawford closed his eyes and tried to remember to breathe. He walked over to the crib and ran his hands along the rail. He watched out of the corner of his eye as Ahmed walked over towards the child and bent down to pick her up. He couldn’t bear to look. He turned around and picked up the small silver rattle that lay inside the crib next to the soft yellow blanket. “I can’t believe that in just a few months we’re going to have one of our own!” said Ahmed.

Crawford turned the rattle over in his hands and noticed the engraving. Hope Giles Crawford March 29, 1918 it said. The words that Ahmed had spoken slowly sank into his head. He turned around and looked at him.

“Are you alright? You look pale all of a sudden?” asked Ahmed, concerned.

Crawford looked down at the rattle in his hand to again read the words. But he couldn’t quite make them out; his eyes were blurry, clouded by tears that threatened to spill over. A laugh escaped his lips.

“He’s probably just a bit shocked, dear. You didn’t expect this, did you?” she said walking over to him.

Crawford shook his head, unable to say anything. Tremendous relief and surprise washed over him. He stared down at his daughter who was resting comfortably on Janna’s hip for the first time and he was flooded with unfamiliar emotions.

“Here,” said Janna as she handed the tiny creature to him. “She’ll be eight months the day after tomorrow.”

“She’s beautiful,” choked out Crawford as tears of joy began to roll down his cheeks. Crawford held her close to his chest, feeling the warmth of her little body as she snuggled against him. “And she’s mine!” he said with a tinge of disbelief. He lifted her high into the air so that he could study her. “Look at you!” said Crawford in awe as he smiled up at her full of pride. “You’re beautiful!”

“Da!” squealed Hope.

“And she’s smart, too! Did you hear that? She called me Da!” he said as he lowered her so that she could settle back onto his hip.

Ahmed laughed, “Hate to disappoint you, buddy, but she’s been saying Da and Ba pretty much non-stop for a couple weeks now. Haven’t you Hope?”

The little girl with the big green eyes turned towards Ahmed and began to babble, “Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba.”

Crawford walked over to the rocking chair that sat in the corner and sat down, resting Hope in his lap. “Do you…would you mind leaving us alone for a bit?”

“Not at all, my friend. This is your home after all,” said Ahmed.

“Home,” repeated Crawford as he ran his hand tenderly over the fine blonde strands on Hopes head. “How long until Elizabeth returns?”

Ahmed pulled his pocket watch out and checked the time. “You’ve got about two hours. Do you want to rest a bit? I can show you to her room. Well, your room.”

“No. I couldn’t possibly,” answered Crawford.

“William,” began Janna, “we were to have dinner together tonight. I’ve got a chicken ready to pop in the oven. I can whip up some mashed potatoes, and there are carrots. It won’t take me long. Hopes food is already prepared, it’s in the Frigidaire and there’s a bottle. She should eat soon.”

“The what?” asked Crawford.

“It’s a new kind of icebox,” explained Ahmed.

“Oh, don’t worry about us, I’ll manage to find what I need. ” said William as he began to rock Hope in the chair. “Really, we’ll be fine. Won’t we little one?”

“Come on, Janna, lets head home. William, we’re just next door if you need anything. The brownstone to the left,” he said as he wrapped his arm around his wife’s waist and led her out the door.

As soon as they were alone, Crawford sighed. He closed his eyes, held his daughter fast to his chest and quietly wept.

Janna and Ahmed turned towards one another. Ahmed took his wife into his arms and said, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” responded Janna as she was released from the hug and began to walk down the stairs in front of her husband. “I’m so happy for them,” she added as she wiped at the tears of joy that began to roll down her cheeks.

“You’re not crying again, are you?” asked Ahmed.

“Hush! I saw you mist over in there too!” admonished Janna.

“Did not!” exclaimed Ahmed.

“Right!” said Janna rolling her eyes as she slipped her coat on.

“I didn’t!” insisted Ahmed.

Janna placed both hands on her hips and glared at him. “Okay!” he said holding up his hands in surrender. “I might have gotten slightly misty…I’ll give you that,” conceded Ahmed as he grabbed his coat, opened the door, and ushered his wife out.

It was some time before Crawford collected himself. As he wiped the tears from his face he shook his head and said, “I wasn’t any more prepared for you than I was for your Mum. She took me by surprise too, you know, Poppet,” said Crawford as he stood up. “Care to show your Da around the house?”

Hope looked up at him, reached out, grabbed his nose and laughed. Crawford removed her hand from his nose gently. He looked down and carefully examined her tiny hands as her fingers curled around his. He raised her hand to his lips and kissing it softly asked, “Do you believe in love at first sight, Hope? I’ll make you a deal. You help me with dinner and I’ll tell you a story.”

Chapter 38

After spending some time just wandering through the house Crawford took his daughter to the kitchen in search of the icebox. He found a feeding bottle filled with breast milk, which he began to warm on the stovetop. He also discovered a small plate of mashed apples and bananas and some pureed peas.

“Okay!” he said as he placed the plate on the table. “While your drink is heating up, let’s get one for Da, shall we?”

Hope squealed and bounced up and down on his hip, “Da! Da-da-da,” she said excitedly.

As he walked into the living room and poured himself another scotch he chuckled and shaking his head said, “Bloody flirt! Just like your Mum. You’re gonna have me wrapped around that tiny finger of yours in no time flat, aren’t you?”

Hope began to fuss a bit. “Dinner is almost ready Poppet,” he soothed. As he started to walk back to the kitchen he noticed a gramophone over in the corner. Sitting on it was the 78rpm recording of "Rock-A-Bye Your Baby With a Dixie Melody" by Al Jolson, Crawford began to play the record. “Maybe this will help?” Mammy mine, your little rolling stone that rolled away, rolled away,

Mammy mine, your rolling stone is rolling home today, there to stay!

I want to see your smiling face, smile a welcome smile,

I want to feel your fond embrace, listen, Mammy mine!

Rock-a-bye your baby with a Dixie melody,

When you croon, croon a little tune from the heart of Dixie!

Just hang that cradle, Mammy mine,

On the Mason-Dixon line,

And swing it from Virginia

To Tennessee with all the pull that's in ya…..

Hope began to cry more loudly. Crawford winced, “Can’t blame you,” he said. “It’s bloody awful it is.” Crawford turned the music off, picked up his drink and walked back to the kitchen. “Let’s see if your bottle’s ready. We’ll get you started on that, yeah? Tomorrow we’ll go in search of some good music. Your Mum may have good taste in men but her taste in music? Questionable.”

Crawford settled her into his lap and after testing the temperature of the milk began to feed Hope some of her bottle. Her crying ceased immediately as she latched on, taking strong pulls from the nipple. “Slow down there, little one!” chuckled Crawford. After she finished half he pulled the bottle from her mouth and walked over to the icebox.

“Let’s get the chicken in, shall we?” he asked as he sat her down on the floor. “Hmmmm, how about a blanket and your rattle. Floors a bit cold, isn’t it? Can’t have you getting sick. Mum would have my head! Have you ever seen her right-cross?” asked Crawford as he picked her up and swiftly carried her upstairs to get the quilt that he had seen in the bedroom and some toys.

Forty minutes later Crawford had managed to get the Chicken in the oven and was sitting in the kitchen feeding Hope as the potatoes and carrots boiled on top of the stove. He watched and grimaced as his daughter spit out the peas that he tried to feed her. As he refilled the spoon and tried again she reached out and pushed his hand away.

“Come on, Poppet, you need your vegetables,” he coaxed. He re-approached her and again was met with resistance. “Here,” he said, “how about a compromise?”

Crawford added some mashed apples onto the spoon and tried again. Hope opened her mouth like a little bird and happily gulped down the mixture. Crawford made a face, “That just can’t taste good together,” he said as he tried again for only the peas.

Hope persisted in pushing his hand away only this time she let out a frustrated whine.

“Stubborn!” he said as he added some mashed apples and watched as Hope opened her mouth wide in anticipation. Crawford laughed, “Seems we’ve got a system now, yeah?”

After watching her take several more bites he tired the combination himself, “Well! That’s not completely horrid, it is? It does get better, I assure you. By next Thanksgiving you’ll be feasting right along with the rest of us. I’ve never celebrated Thanksgiving before you know. It’s a Yank thing. This will be the first for both of us!” He picked Hope up, walked over to the kitchen sink and quickly rinsed off her plate.

“Maybe we should clean you up a bit?” he said as he wet a clean dishcloth with warm water and gently wiped clean her hands and face.

Crawford heard the front door open and then close with a loud bang. He heard the quick approach of footsteps, hard heels clicking rapidly on the hardwood floors. “Hey! Dinner smells great! Lady with a huge Turkey…coming through she said as she walked into the kitchen and set the Turkey on top of the counter.”

Crawford stood stock-still. The sink where he had been standing with Hope was along the same wall as the door and she had walked right past him in her haste to rid herself of the heavy parcel. He watched as she stepped away from the counter, pulled off her gloves and stuffed them into the pockets of her coat. “Whew!” she said, as she turned around. “We’ll be eating leftovers for-”

Her cheeks were flush from the cold. Her hair was up in a proper bun and not loosely framing her face, as he preferred, but she was even more beautiful than he remembered. He resisted the urge to run to her, to rip off her coat and let down her hair, to run his hands over every part of her, his mouth over every part of her. He could tell that she was in shock and he wanted desperately to do this right.

Elizabeth gasped as one hand flew to her mouth and the other reached out to grasp the counter top. As she turned around expecting to see Janna she instead saw the image of William, standing at the kitchen sink, holding Hope. She closed her eyes and swallowed, mentally chastising herself for indulging in fantasy. But when she opened her eyes again, he was still there. The image became fuzzy as the reality of him began to set in.

“Miss me, pet?” he asked, quietly.

Elizabeth took a tentative step towards him, and then another, and then another. She reached out, slowly with her hand, as if in a trance, letting it rest on his chest. He was solid. He was here. He was hers. “You’re really here,” she whispered as she looked up into his piercing blue eyes, the eyes that she dreamed about every night.

“I made a promise to lady,” he said, his voice strained from emotion. “Two it seems,” he added as he covered Elizabeth’s hand with his own and placed a small kiss on the top of Hope’s head.

Crawford released her hand and reached out to pull her towards him. Elizabeth wrapped her arms tightly around his waist and began to cry, “You’re home! You’re really home!”

“Yes, luv,” agreed Crawford as held his two girls in his arms and began to cry himself. “I’m home.”

Chapter 39

The sound of Hope beginning to cry forced the two lovers to collect themselves. Elizabeth pulled back and began to laugh, “It’s okay, sweetheart. Those were happy tears. You don’t need to join in,” she said as she reached for her daughter.

“No bloody way,” said Crawford turning so that Hope was a bit further from her reach. “You’ve had her for months. It’s my turn to wipe away her tears. How about you check the potatoes and carrots, and see if they’re done? I’m not giving her up until I’ve tucked her in bed, like a proper father. And then I plan on tucking you in bed, like a not so proper husband,” he added wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Elizabeth laughed as she unbuttoned her coat and laid it across the back of one of the kitchen chairs. “Well you’re going to have to relinquish her long enough for me to feed her once more before bedtime and… How, exactly do I know if their done?” she asked as she stepped over to the stove top and looked down into the boiling pots.

Crawford laughed and walked over to her. She looked up at him, a helpless look on her face and said in all seriousness, “I’m not kidding.”

“You can’t cook?” he asked, amazed.

“Not really,” she admitted, embarrassed.

“But they’re only potatoes,” said Crawford.

“I have other skills…” she said flirtatiously as she ran her hand over his chest.

Crawford moaned, took a step back and glanced down at the now prominent bulge in his trousers. “How much longer until she’s down for the night?”

Elizabeth smiled, brushed her lips lightly across his, and promised, “Soon. Now, about the potatoes.”

“Bloody hell, woman! Here!” he said as he handed their child over and reached for a fork. “You just stick a fork in, like so, and if it goes in nice and easy they’re done!”

“Okay!” she said cheerfully as she started to walk away.

“Oi! Wait a minute!” he said, reaching for her arm. “You try and tell me what you think.”

Elizabeth turned around and looked at him a bit surprised.

“What? Did you think I was just going to be your willing slave? That’s not how this is going to work, luv. There are certain things I expect from a wife. Now, I don’t mind you not knowing. And, I don’t mind teaching you. But I want-”

“Drusilla’s your wife, William,” said Elizabeth quietly. “Not me.”

He felt like he had been physically slapped. He looked at her and saw that she was frightened, not knowing her place, an unmarried woman with a child to raise and support.

He turned back around to face the stove and took a minute to gather his thoughts. He extinguished the flames under the pots and drained the water from the potatoes and carrots. Then he covered them with lids and turned once again to face her. “We need to have ourselves a bit of a chat, luv. Can you and Hope wait for me in the living room? I’ll finish the dinner. It’ll be ready to eat in just a few minutes.”

“I’m sorry, Will. That was uncalled for. I’ve just been under so much stress, not knowing-” she began.

“It’s alright, luv. Truly, it is. I’ll be along in a moment. Refill my scotch and pour yourself a sherry, I saw some, yeah?” she asked.

“Yeah,” she said, feeling guilty.

Crawford set about mashing the potatoes and whipping up a quick glaze for the carrots. He checked the roasted chicken and turned the oven off. He left the carrots and potatoes in covered pots on top of the stove so that they would stay warm and then proceeded to the living room. On the way he grabbed his coat off of the coat rack in the foyer.

Elizabeth sat on the sofa nearest the fireplace. The buttons of her blouse were undone and she had released her left breast from her brassier. Hope was latched on, firmly suckling. As Crawford walked into the living room he came to an abrupt stop. Elizabeth looked up and their eyes met, her gaze was then drawn to the overcoat that he held in his hands. “You’re leaving?” she asked.

“What? No!” said Crawford as he began to fumble through his coat pocket. He sat down on the coffee table across from her, his coat in his lap. “You’re a vision, you know that?”

Elizabeth gave him a watery smile as relief washed over her. “I told everyone that we were married,” she confessed. “It took a bit of time for me to get back here. I knew by that time I was pregnant. I just couldn’t bear the thought of Hope-”

“I told you that I would make you my wife in every way that mattered to you. I meant it, Elizabeth. I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you, with you and Hope. I want us to be a family. Drusilla is gone, luv. She was horribly injured in a fire over at Bedlam. She died before I got back to England. I’d be doing this regardless; it just would have taken longer, been more complicated. As it was, it took me a few days to make arrangements with my solicitors and to get my leave arranged. But, I’m here to stay. I’m resigning my commission,” he said as he opened up the cover of a small black velvet box and presented it to her.

Elizabeth was stunned. She looked down at herself and her daughter. Then looking back up at him said, “You don’t have to do this-”

“Shh, I want to do this. Don’t you understand? I want you. I love you,” he said, and then glancing down at Hope added, “both of you.”

“It’s just so sudden. I don’t know what to say,” said Elizabeth as she stared at the ring he was presenting to her.

Crawford took the ring from its box, pushed the coffee table aside and bend down on one knee before her. He took her left hand in his and looking up, hopefully into her eyes said, “Just say yes, and make me the happiest man on this earth.”

“Oh, William! Of course it’s yes!” said Elizabeth as tears once again sprung to her eyes. “I’m just a bit speechless. And how could you possibly propose to me when I’m looking like this!” she said in dismay as she attempted to tuck her breast back into her brassier and rest Hope on her shoulder.

Crawford smiled broadly and said, “Well, truth be told I had planned on proposing later tonight as I was buried deep inside of you. But what can I say? I couldn’t wait. I’m not the most patient of men.”

“Oh! That would have made a nice story!” said Elizabeth as she watched him slip the ring on her finger.

“It was my grandmothers,” said William. “A 2 ct emerald in an antique gold setting. Matches your eyes. It was destined to be yours,” he said.

“Was it-” she started to ask.

“No, luv,” he interjected as he reached for Hope so that she could re-button her blouse and admire her ring. “Drusilla and I, we just wore plain gold bands. It was what she wanted. We didn’t really have an engagement to speak of. I’ve bought a new wedding band for myself, and the emerald has a matching one. When you tell people our story, pet, you can tell it like it happed. I won you in contest, a battle of wills and strength. I kicked Ahmed’s skinny arse, and then I threw you over my shoulder, carried you off to my tent, and made you mine for all eternity. I’ve been married to you in my heart since that very day, you know. I just want to square it away with the church and the law, for you… for Hope.”

“She’s asleep,” whispered Elizabeth as she stood up and looked down at the angelic face of her daughter, fast asleep on William’s shoulder.

“Really?” he asked quietly looking down at her slumbering form.

“Yeah,” she said reaching out for his hand. “Let’s tuck her in, shall we?”

“Let me,” he said as he stood up and interlaced his fingers with hers. “You take a bath. I’ll build a fire in the fireplace in the bedroom and bring up our supper. We’ll have a bed picnic, like we did on our last night together.”

“I’d like that,” said Elizabeth. “We’ve got so much to talk about, so much to catch up on.

Crawford raised their joined hands to his lips and placed a kiss on the inside of her wrist. “We’ve got the rest of our lives, darling,” he said as he followed her upstairs. “The rest of our lives.”

Chapter 40

Elizabeth emerged from the bath, wrapped her robe around herself and walked down the hall. She stopped briefly to look in on Hope. After confirming that Hope was fast asleep she proceeded down the hall towards her room, their room. William had set a tray with two plates and cutlery on the bed. He had an open bottle of wine on the nightstand with two glasses. As Elizabeth walked into the room she saw him crouched in front of the fireplace, stoking the fire. The yellow-orange glow of the flames lit his face, causing her breath to hitch.

He turned as he heard her walk into the bedroom and stood up. He had removed his shoes, socks, and tie. His shirt was open, revealing his smoothly sculpted chest. “That’s a beautiful fire,” said Elizabeth as she walked over towards it and reached out with her hands in an effort to absorb the warmth.

Crawford walked behind her, rested his hands on her shoulders, and then leaned down to savor the scent of her hair. “I’ve missed the way you smelled,” he said, his voice already rough from arousal. He reached up and began to pull the pins from her hair. His breath quickening as he watched it cascade down her back. “Your hair has gotten longer,” he observed as he ran his fingers through the long silken strands.

Elizabeth leaned her head back on his chest, exposing her throat to him. He wasted no time in leaning down to rain a trail of hot open-mouthed kisses along the side of her neck. As he reached her pulse point just behind her ear he nipped at her slightly. At the same time he reached around her front to untie the sash of her robe.

Elizabeth moaned as he slipped the robe off of her shoulders, leaving her standing, nude, in front of the heat of the fireplace. He tilted his hips forward, grinding his erection into the round globes of her ass as he reached around and gently fondled her breasts. “My golden goddess,” he groaned as he ran his tongue over the outside shell of her ear. “I’ve been dreaming about this…being with you again…for so long.”

“Careful, with my breasts, they’re still-” began Elizabeth.

“Are they sore?” asked Crawford as he lightly ran his fingertips around the areola. “Is this okay?”

“Yes,” sighed Elizabeth. “I’ve missed your touch.”

He reached down with one hand and slid his finger between her legs, running it up and down her wet slit, separating her folds and making her impossibly wetter. “You thought about me?” he asked.

“Every minute of every day,” confessed Elizabeth.

Crawford stepped back from her. “Turn around,” he commanded. “I want to look at you.”

Elizabeth slowly turned around to face him. Her stomach was slightly less taught, her hair was longer, her breasts were fuller, but everything still somehow felt familiar. His breath caught in his throat as she reached out and unfastened his trousers then slipped his shirt from his shoulders.

“You look exactly this same,” she said quietly, “and my body, it’s different.”

“Yeah,” he said nodding in pleasure as he led her over to the chair that was positioned in front of the fireplace.

“You…like?” she asked with hesitancy as she sat down, then reached for her robe on the floor, feeling suddenly shy.

Crawford took the robe from her hands, then shook his head at her and threw it out of reach. “What? Knowing that I’m responsible for that little-one in there? Knowing that we made her, together. That she grew inside of you?” he asked kneeling before her and reaching out to caress her stomach. He gently separated her knees, and then moved between them. “That these breasts feed and nourish her?” he added as he ran his hands over her full mounds.

“Oh!” gasped Elizabeth, embarrassed, as she felt the telltale signs of letdown in her right breast and noticed leakage. “I’ll just…I’m sorry,” she said as she started to get up.

Crawford reached out for her arms and stilled her. “Don’t go,” he said. “Don’t be embarrassed, luv. It’s okay. Better than okay,” said Crawford as he leaned back, spread her legs apart even wider and said, “God, you take my breath away.”

William held Elizabeth’s face in his hands and then leaned up; rested his forehead against hers, and slowly brought his lips up to grazed her mouth, his tongue darting out to sweep across her bottom lip. She opened her mouth in invitation and he slipped his tongue inside delving deep within its wetness. He realized that he had never wanted a woman so badly, not even her, as he pulled back and took her earlobe between his teeth. “Tell me you’re mine,” he asked.

“I’m yours,” said Elizabeth, panting.

“Tell me you’ll be mine, forever” demanded William as he lightly lapped up the milk that had leaked from her right breast.

Elizabeth gasped as his tongue circled her nipple.

“Please,” he moaned, begging her.

“Yes! Yours forever, William,” said Elizabeth, as she reached up and ran her fingers through his hair.

He cupped the bottom of her full breast in the palm of his hand and ran his tongue around the underside of her nipple. Elizabeth was taken aback by how aroused she was by his action, how erotic it felt. Involuntarily, she arched her back. Crawford smiled around her nipple before latching on.

“Oh! My God!” gasped Elizabeth as she began to writhe in the chair. “Need you!”

He released her slowly, lapping up the remnants before crouching down on his hands and knees before her. He possessively ran his hands up her legs. With his index finger he then teasingly traced little patterns near the center of her heat. He licked his lips in anticipation, then reaching behind her pulled her just a little closer to the edge of the chair.

“Ask me to taste you,” he requested.

“Oh, please, William,” moaned Elizabeth, “Please, I need you.”

“What do you need?” asked William, still on his knees, looking up into Elizabeth’s eyes.

“You,” Elizabeth replied. “Want…you.”

William spread her legs, used his fingers to separate her folds, and then he slowly dragged his tongue up the length of her slit. She was already wet and he gratefully lapped up her juices. He explored her inner folds, applying pressure with his tongue. Then using just the tip he flicked his tongue across her clit for a few seconds before taking it lightly between his teeth, pulling on it gently. William could feel Elizabeth’s excitement growing as her juices flowed exquisitely into his mouth.

He took two of his fingers and slipped them inside of her, moving them in and out in time to her now thrusting hips as his mouth continued to pull on her sensitive bundle of nerves.

“More!” demanded Elizabeth.

William grinned, in pride, as he kept up his ministrations, but added an additional finger. He gently curled the fingers of the hand moving inside of her forward, searching for the spot that would ensure her release. He could hear Elizabeth’s breathing becoming more and more ragged. One hand desperately holding onto the arm of the chair, the other entwined in his hair. Her upper torso arched forward and her head was thrown back as she approached the edge. Her legs and thighs were quivering, then trembling, and then, she came- screaming his name- he had never heard a more satisfying sound.

William rolled back onto his heels, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and gazed up at Elizabeth. She was glistening with a sheer layer of perspiration, her hair was tousled, her breathing winded, her skin flush, she looked wanton as she gazed at him through dazed eyes. He had never seen anything so beautiful.

William kneeled up and while she watched him, he slowly licked his fingers. Then, he kissed her, softly, deeply on the mouth, allowing her to taste herself. As he broke off the kiss he stood up, pulling her with him. He swept her up in his strong arms and carried her to the bed, their bed. “Don’t move,” he said.

“Can’t,” she responded, smiling contentedly. “I don’t think my legs are working anymore.”

“Good!” he told her as he removed the tray of food from the bed and set it on the floor. “All part of my plan to make you my personal sex slave. I figure paralysis will decrease your odds of escape,” he added as he began to climb up towards her from the bottom of the bed, smiling seductively.

“Oh! You have a plan, huh?” asked Elizabeth, playfully.

“Uh huh!” admitted Crawford. “I’m gonna make love to you,” said Crawford as he began to kiss her stomach, “all night long.”

Elizabeth giggled, “All night long, you say? That’s your plan?”

“Yup!” he confessed. “Not elaborate, I admit,” he said as he continued to kiss her stomach. “God, I’m sorry I missed seeing you pregnant,” he added as he looked up at her and gazed into her eyes.

Elizabeth smiled down at him, and ran her fingers through his hair. “Well, I was quite the site at the end there.”

“We made a beautiful baby,” said Crawford, as he climbed further up her body and hovered above her, settling himself between her legs.

“Yes, we did,” responded Elizabeth as she wrapped her arms around him and ran her hands over his back. She lifted her knees slightly off the bed and wrapped her legs around the back of his. She could feel the head of his cock poised at her entrance.

“Let’s make another,” whispered Crawford as he kissed her softly on the mouth, slowly entered her and began to slide in and out.

“Welcome home, Will,” said Elizabeth as she lifted her legs higher and wrapped them around his hips, returning his thrusts. “I’m never letting you go,” she said as she felt him push deeper into her. “I’m never letting you go!”

Crawford felt it as her inner walls began to quiver. “I can’t hold on, luv. It’s been too long,” he said, apologizing.

“Come for me, Will. Come for me, baby. I love you!” she wept as she wrapped her arms and legs more tightly around him so that their bodies melded together, making them one. “I love you.”

Elizabeth felt his body shudder as he spilled his seed deep inside of her. He looked up at her, his piercing blue eyes meeting hers. He reached up and brushed her hair away from her face then brushed his lips across hers while murmuring over and over again, “I love you, too, Elizabeth. I love you, too.”

EPILOGUE

July 5, 1922 Provincetown, Massachusetts

Elizabeth sat on the front porch of the simple three-bedroom cottage in a wooden rocking chair. She briefly glanced up from the book she was reading to look out at the ocean. It was still early morning. She loved this time of day, after the sun was up but before the beaches became crowded. She took a sip of her morning coffee, set the cup back on the side table adjacent to her rocker, and returned to reading.

A few minutes later she was startled from her reverie by the feel of her husband’s lips grazing her cheek.

“Oh!” she gasped. “I didn’t hear you come back. Where are the kids? You didn’t lose them did you?”

“Down at the tide-pools with Janna and Ahmed. Hope managed to find a sand-dollar right off, she’s pretty proud of herself,” said William as he walked into the cottage. “Finally gotten around to finishing Eugene’s book, I see?”

“Yup!” said Elizabeth as he emerged with a glass of water. She held up the copy of Anna Christie that she had been reading and announced, “I’m almost through. I admit it’s a fabulous piece of work. But, I still say that The Redemption of a Soul should have taken this years Pulitzer for drama. It was brilliant. Hey, the daisies are pretty.”

“And you’re not the least bit biased…” teased William as he dropped the daisies into the glass.

“Nope, not me. I can sleep with the author and still maintain my objectivity…totally,” declared Elizabeth as she returned to reading her book.

“You’re sleeping with Eugene?” asked William feigning shock.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes and said, “Right, like I would have time. What, with taking care of four children.”

“Three children,” he said absently as he put his spectacles on and picked up the newspaper that was on the adjacent table. After a moment he looked back up at her, removed his glasses and asked, “Unless… Are you?”

“Huh?” said Elizabeth looking up. “No! And, you stay away from me. I was including you in the count. You, Hope, Joy and Noel are plenty. You have your boy, so back-off buster!”

William smiled seductively at her, wiggled his eyebrows and practically purred, “But the trying is so much fun,” as he lifted a few of the daisies from the water glass and walked over to her and crouched down. From his position he looked up, wearing an expression of wide-eyed innocence, and suggested, “maybe we could just practice?”

Elizabeth closed her book, laid it aside and repeated, “Practice?”

“It’s just a thought,” said William as he kissed her on the tip of her nose, stood up and walked behind her. He sighed as he looked out at the ocean. “I love it here.”

“Me too,” she said leaning back in the chair. “Is it important to you? Having a fourth?”

“No,” he admitted as he began to run his fingers through her hair. “I know that the last pregnancy was hard on you. The truth is that I’m so bloody relieved that you and Noel made it through…I don’t ever want to feel that afraid again. I love the children, but I don’t want to risk having another if it means I could lose you. You, Hope, Joy and Noel are everything to me. You’re my world.”

“You’re getting sentimental in your old age,” teased Elizabeth.

“Oi! What are you going on about?” huffed William as he separated her hair into sections. “I’m not old! I’ll have you know-”

Elizabeth started laughing, “You’re so easy to tease! What on earth are you doing back there anyways?”

“Braiding some of the daisies in your hair, like you do with Hope,” responded William.

Elizabeth smiled and said, “Happy Birthday, William.”

“Well, technically it’s not until tomorrow! But, if you want to give me an early present you could come take a nap with me?” he suggested.

“Nap? It’s still early morning! What-” started Elizabeth.

William released her hair and throwing his hands up in the air exclaimed, “It was bloody code! You used to be a spy, woman!”

Elizabeth turned around in her seat so that she could look at him and said, “So when you said ‘nap’ you meant….”

William wiggled his eyebrows, curled his tongue behind he front teeth and smirked.

“Nuh uh! Not enough time,” declared Elizabeth.

“I can be quick,” suggested William.

Elizabeth frowned, “That’s suppose to be an incentive? And…just for the record, you are never quick, Mr. Crawford. Besides, they’ll be back soon.”

“Speaking of the devils…I mean angels-” said William as he nodded down the shoreline.

Janna and Ahmed were walking with the children back towards the cottage. Janna was carrying Noel in her arms. Ahmed had Joy resting on his hip and Sasha and Hope were walking alongside them.

“Janna looks happy with Noel in her arms. They’re trying again, you know,” said Elizabeth as she shielded her eyes and looked at them.

“Yeah! I hope things work out for them. Despite my grumbling, I’m glad that you insisted on inviting them for the weekend. We’ve all been so busy this past year…seems like we haven’t hardly seen them!”

“Speak for yourself, dear. Janna and I see each other every day. It’s you and Ahmed that have been so wrapped up in work. Between his new assignment at Mass General and your spending so much time in Chicago this year…”

“I’m sorry, luv. But when you’re an investigative journalist you need to go where the story is, and since the passing of prohibition….well, that is more and more looking like Chicago,” explained Crawford. “But for the next week…I’m all yours. And we could talk again about moving there. It doesn’t have to be permanent. We could always come back to New England. I still have that offer pending with the Chicago Daily News.”

“Take it,” said Elizabeth.

“Really?” asked Crawford. “You mean that?”

“Yes. Take it. I’ve been stubborn, not wanting to move. I’ll miss our friends and I’ll miss Boston, but this past year…with you traveling back and forth…well, I’ve missed you more,” she admitted.

“Yeah?” he asked searching out her eyes. “I miss you too, when I’m away. I hate leaving you. I-”

“Well,” said Elizabeth, looking away shyly.She began to nervously play with a button on her dress and she explained, “I have a tiny confession to make. My inviting Janna and Ahmed for the weekend? Wasn’t just about wanting to spend time with them…I had a bit of an ulterior motive.”

“Ulterior motive?” asked William.

Elizabeth stood up and walked over to him. She wrapped her arms around his neck, leaned up and whispered in his ear, “You. Happy Birthday, darling.”

Crawford’s forehead wrinkled in confusion, “Not sure I followed you round that last bend.”

“Tonight they are taking the children back with them. Noel’s weaned now. Janna and Ahmed agreed to watch them. We get to spend the rest of the week here. Alone. Just the two of us,” said Elizabeth as she nuzzled his neck.

Crawford pulled away, “No!”

“Yes!” nodded Elizabeth enthusiastically.

“Now, you do realize how bloody cruel it would be for you to tease me about this, don’t you?” asked Crawford.

“No teasing,” said Elizabeth. “Scouts honor!”

“You mean I have five entire days with you? Only you? Your undivided attention?” asked Crawford.

“Yup!” confirmed Elizabeth. “Oh! And let’s not forget the five nights that go along with them!”

Crawford wrapped his arms more tightly around her waist and repeated, “Five entire nights, alone, just you and me. Whatever will I do?”

“You can do….anything….” Elizabeth trailed off coyly as she pulled away from him and twirled an errant strand of her honey blonde hair around one finger.

“Anything?” asked Crawford, leaning back himself and pointedly looking down at the now prominent bulge evident in his pants.

“Anything you want,” said Elizabeth slowly as she leaned up to whisper into his ear. “There’s just one…little…catch.”

Crawford’s eyes grew wide with anticipation, “And that would be?”

Elizabeth backed away from him towards the steps to the porch. She looked over her shoulder out towards the ocean, and then glanced back towards Crawford a playful smile forming on her lips and a glint of mischief in her eye.

“What?” he asked almost overwhelmed now with anticipation.

“You’ve got to catch me first!” she shouted as she bolted from the porch with a squeal.

“Bloody Hell!” he said as he jumped off the steps into the soft sand. She was already about 50 feet ahead of him. The skirt of the simple white cotton dress that she wore was almost translucent in the sunlight. The long braid of her hair, entwined with daisies, flew out behind her as she ran, her feet kicking up sand. Crawford paused for a second, wanting to commit the vision to memory. Her melodious laughter traveled back to him on the morning’s ocean breeze. “If you can catch me…you can have me!” she shouted over her shoulder as she continued to run, taunting him just as she had done one night years ago, in a land far away.

“Oh, I can catch you, luv” he said, confidently before taking off at a full run. “Help me catch mum, kids!” he shouted as they approached their family and friends.

Hope who was a bit over four immediately joined in the fray, “Come help catch Mummy, Sash!” she squealed to her little friend before beginning to chase Elizabeth down towards the waters edge.

“Hope, you close in on the right! Sasha, move in on the left!” shouted Crawford. “Come on girls, don’t let her get away now!”

Joy let go of Ahmed’s hand and she immediately tried to chase after her older sister, but her little 3 year-old feet were a bit clumsy and she stumbled as she struggled to run in the loose sand. Crawford noticed her plight as he caught up with them and without breaking pace he scooped her up in his arms, ran four or five steps closer to the water and set her down on the firmer sand.

Elizabeth was now wading up to her ankles in the water, gingerly lifting up the skirt of her dress so as to prevent it from getting wet. “Looks like I’ve got you cornered pet,” he said as he stalked towards his prey.

She was winded and flushed from the running. “You cheated!” she yelled, nodding in the direction of his accomplices.

“And your what? Shocked and disappointed? I’m evil!” teased Crawford as he continued to walk towards her. “You knew that when your married me, pet. Do you give?”

“No!” she shouted, defiantly.

“Stubborn!” he accused as he reached down, scooped up a handful of the cold ocean water and splashed her.

Elizabeth spontaneously shrieked as the cold water began to hit her face. Without thought she dropped her skirt and brought her hands up to shield herself from the continued onslaught. The fabric fell into the water immediately becoming heavier. As she took another step back she could feel it as her skirt began to twist around her legs. She looked down and began to gather it up again. Just then, a medium size wave approached and pushed her unsteadily forward, into Crawford’s waiting arms.

“And, I am victorious!” shouted Crawford pumping one arm in the air, jumping up and down. His other arm firmly encircled Elizabeth’s waist as he turned to face Hope, Sasha, and Joy who were jumping up and down, clapping with glee.

“Were you born this big a pain in the ass?” asked Elizabeth quietly.

Crawford turned to her and scowled. He narrowed his eyes as he leaned down, tossed her over his shoulder, and carried her from the water. “What can I tell you, baby? I’ve always been bad,” he said with a smirk as sat her down on the edge of the shore. He plucked one of the daisies from her hair and began to twirl it around in his fingers, looking suddenly pensive

Ahmed shook his head, and laughed at his friend’s antics as he walked up to his wife and whispered, “They’re good together.”

“And they make beautiful babies,” said Janna with a tinge of envy looking down at 8 month old Noel.

“There’s no reason to give up hope, Janna-” began Ahmed.

“As a matter of fact, I feel really optimistic this time. I just have a feeling…” she drifted off.

Ahmed leaned over and kissed his wife tenderly on the lips. “Me, too.”

As Ahmed pulled away from the kiss he felt the tug of a tiny hand on his trousers. He bent down and scooped Joy up onto his shoulders. “Hope! Sasha!” he yelled. “Let’s get packed!”

Crawford looked up from the flower, a serious and yet slightly confused expression on his face. He looked back at his children as they made their way towards the beach cottage, then he looked out towards the ocean and down the long expanse of sand. Finally he looked at the woman before him, her golden hair reflecting the early morning rays of the sun. Crawford smiled slightly, looked down once again at the daisy, and slightly shuddered.

“Something wrong?” asked Elizabeth, noticing at once his change in mood.

Crawford looked up at her, smiled, and then tossed the flower into the ocean. “Just the opposite,” he whispered as he watched the tide carry the flower further out to sea. After it disappeared in a shower of white foam he turned towards his wife and pulled her towards him, enveloping her in a familiar embrace. He kissed the top of her head and quietly revealed, “I sometimes have a hard time believing how happy I am. There are days I look at you and the children and wonder if this is all some elaborate dream. This life, with you…it sometimes reads like a fantasy, a fairytale, don’t you think?”

“I don’t want it to ever end,” she whispered as she pulled back slightly and brought her lips up to brush softly against his.

“All good stories must come to an end, luv,” responded Crawford as he pulled her in a bit closer so that her body was molded flush to his.

“And, how will this one end?” she asked, as she leaned her head back a bit, exposing her neck to him.

“This one?” he murmured, his breath warm and moist against her skin.

“Mmmm,” she moaned as she felt her arousal build, her heart rate quickening as he began to kiss her neck.

Crawford took his time, savoring the moment as he trailed open-mouthed kisses up the long column of her neck. When he reached her ear, he bit down on her lobe, tugging on it gently before pulling it into his mouth. When he heard his wife’s moan of pleasure he smiled and stepped back. He looked steadily into her eyes, his gaze revealing at once the depth of his emotions. He took her face in his hands and softly said, “How does this one end? Happily. Ever. After.” Then, he leaned in slowly and kissed her. It was a kiss full of promise. He kissed her like it was the first time, like it was the last time, like he did every time, once again sealing their love and stealing her heart.

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