“Come on, lad. Buck up! Pull yourself together and toss us the rope!”
Only the seriousness of Casey jumping into the river, gave Tom the incentive to stop laughing long enough to manage a credible throw. At last, two ropes were safely in the hands of his brothers, who pulled the boat slowly back. Casey barely waited. When the boat was a couple of feet away, she stepped quickly over and into Tom’s arms. He examined her face to see if she was mad. Relieved at the grin she gave him, he pulled her close, and in front of God and everybody, kissed her long and hard. The stuffy Edwardians on the dock responded to this with catcalls and cheers, as the brothers tossed the ropes (and Casey’s shoes) back onto the boat, and waved them off down the lough.
The two-hour trip to Rostrevor kept them busy adjusting sails and steering the boat. Casey was the only crew member and her inexperience meant that Tom had to keep a close watch on everything she did. Still, she was determined to be helpful, so she watched him closely for instructions. After about half an hour, he seemed satisfied with the wind and the progress they were making, and he moved to sit behind her, surprising her by sitting with his legs on either side of her, his hands resting gently on her waist.
He nuzzled her neck, and the boat jerked as her hand slipped from the till. He laughed and helped her right it, but when they were settled again, his hand was on her breast. She couldn’t look away from him. Heart pounding, she moved to kiss him, a kiss that started softly and built in passion, just before the boat jerked again. It was harder to right this time and Tom moved forward to make adjustments. This time, he stayed forward, making light conversation as he pointed out the sights. She’d been down this way in the twenty-first century and described it for him, causing him to shake his head in wonder.
“Cars and paved roads everywhere, traffic lights, large buildings,” he marveled. “Airplanes! It’s hard to imagine, sweetheart.”
She looked around her at the gentle hills, the green, green grass and the stone walls everywhere, as the lough meandered on its way to the sea. “Yes, but it’s true.” She examined him in a slow way that made him blush. A small smile moved her lips, but she said only, “It’s still considered a quiet country, though. It’s built up, but it still has its charm.”
A blast of wind hit them, and Casey gasped as a wave splashed into the boat. Tom gave her a quick instruction, his voice harsh with surprise. Casey concentrated on her task, fighting a sudden flash of worry that had nothing to do with sailing. Will he change now that we’re married? Will he be dictatorial? Strict and demanding about sex? Will he rush through it and not think about whether I’m enjoying it? Does he think it’s only for procreation? I’ve heard such odd things about how men used to be.
Now that the time was so close, the worry wouldn’t go away, sitting instead like a lump in her stomach. He’s not like what I’ve always heard old-time men were like. He’s funny and kind, not stiff and proper. She tried to remind herself of their past kisses and his frequent hugs. He really was affectionate. But she also remembered all the times when he had been stiff and proper, and would insist that she needed to be that way, too.
“Are you all right, love?” He was pulling a rope tight a final time, but he looked at her with concern. “Did you get hurt?”
She shook her head and he went back to his knot. Before he went forward again, he touched her cheek and brushed a finger over her lips. “The most precious crew I’ve ever had,” he murmured, and her fear seemed to melt, allowing her to smile. It would be all right.
Steering got more difficult as they approached the pier near the cottage, and he gave her several instructions as he adjusted the sails. He lassoed the pole and pulled the boat in the last few feet, then set about securing everything. Casey moved a couple of the boxes to the pier before stepping over herself.
With a deep breath, she lifted a box and smiled wickedly at Tom. “Would you like some help with your boxes, mister? I can carry ’em for you, if you’d like…” Her words trailed away as he laughed with delight and swung himself over to stand beside her, eyes on her face. He just looked at her for a moment, his eyes moving slowly down her neck to her breasts, then her stomach and hips. She felt that look in parts of her body she’d never felt anything before, and she acknowledged to herself that she was simply nervous. For all her talk of sexual freedom and casualness, for all her mother’s lectures on birth control and STDs, and making her own choices about sex, Casey had always been shy about making out. She wanted to spend every minute making love to Tom, but she really didn’t know what to expect.
He took up the other box and slipped an arm around her shoulders, guiding her back toward the cottage that could be seen peeking out from the trees at the bottom of a hill. The area had lots of trees and a few tall hills, one of the reasons Tom said he liked it. They would have privacy, and Casey could relax, without needing to act like an early twentieth-century lady. It had been their biggest reason for wanting to go camping.
For all his insistence on waiting for marriage, Tom seemed to think there was no reason to wait any longer. They had just entered the cottage and paused to look around. Casey knew he’d been up here the day before with his brothers, and Jessie and Nina. The cottage was clean and made up, so she’d have nothing to get ready this first day. Tom put the boxes by the door and she started to return to the boat for the others, but instead, he grabbed her hand and pulled her to him, holding her close and smiling into her eyes.
His voice was low. “Mrs. Andrews.”
She could feel his heart beating and noticed the pulse of it in his neck. She stood on tip-toe to kiss the pulse, breathing in the heat rising from his skin. She would have kissed it again, but his lips found hers in rough urgency, his kiss hot, his tongue playing gently in her mouth. Desire rose up, and left her helpless and out of control.
Everything she’d ever heard about the awkwardness of getting undressed proved true, with the added impediment of Edwardian undergarments. She still didn’t wear a corset, but she had on everything else and there were all those dratted buttons…
In the end, they contented themselves with removing only what was necessary. He lay her on the bed, covering her with his body, kissing her hard, his hands searching for bare skin wherever he could find it. She tried to touch him everywhere at once, excited with the idea that she could touch him—her hands moved inside his shirt, rubbing his back, his shoulders, his chest, his hips… He didn’t wait, entering her almost immediately,, pausing a brief moment at her gasp. She kissed him, not wanting him to think she was hurt—she wasn’t—just surprised at the way he felt inside her. The months of waiting took their toll, as he finished quickly, but she didn’t care. His breath in her ear, his moan of pleasure as he poured deeply into her, gave her more joy than she had thought to experience in her entire life.
He’d better not think sex was only for procreation. She’d never let him get away with it.
Chapter 26
September 1907—January 1908
They spent the week never more than a few feet from each other. He took her hunting and fishing, they fell asleep one night while counting the stars, swam in an inland pond, and made love all over the cottage and a few interesting places outside. Casey had brought her “boy pants,” but somehow, this time there was no mistaking her gender. It was warm enough during the day that a couple of times, she wore just the pants and her camisole, as if she were in the twenty-first century. Tom swore he loved the look.