Lunch in the gardens was not as torturous as I assumed it would be, in fact it was even slightly pleasant. David introduced me to his wonderful family. The father is a little rough around the edges, however he seemed nice enough. Right now, I am sitting in the carriage waiting for David whilst he talks to the horsemen. I never realised that people could become so fortunate with their arranged marriages. I completely understand that I could be a lot worse off. I mean, I could be a slave girl who will never have the complete love and care of a husband, arranged or not, because she must sell her body to survive. No, I may not have wanted this in the first place, but I am grateful not to be like those girls.
David is, well, there is only one way to describe him. He is perfection on a platter. And the so said platter is to be served to me! I don't really know him very much, but I would love to get to know him. I hear voices from outside the carriage and the nerves start again. What happens if we start to open up to each other and he decides he doesn't like who I really am? Or if he has some illegitimate child, or another mistress, how would I handle that? The carriage slightly dips towards one side as someone stands on the small ladder leading towards the entrance. I feel my hair flying around in the breeze as the small door is opened and David steps inside. "Sorry to keep you waiting my lady."
I feel a crimson blush creep upon my face, starting from my neck at his words and presence. 'No need for the apologies, Sir.' I manage to keep my voice stable despite my embarrassment of being called a lady.
I know that I have grown amongst the noblemen and ladies that are in my mother and father's social circles, however I was always referred to as the child or Alison, never have I been called a lady. David must sense my discomfort and he reaches for my hand and squeezes it gently with his own. The carriage lurches forward with a start and then we start to roll away. I realise now that this may be the last time I will see my family, and I didn't properly say farewell. "Alison, you can see them again you know? I am not going to keep you locked up in a tower like a fragile flower and forbid you to see your family and friends. However, I would love for you to think of my family as your own as well, and to make new friends. The ladies in my village are very lovely ladies.'' I feel another blush creeping up my neck at his words. No one, not even my mother has spoken to me with such a comforting tone.
Tears sting my eyes, threatening to spill over the edge and wet my face. 'T-thank you S-sir.' I see him flinch slightly at my words and I immediately tense, awaiting his verbal reprimand for speaking out of line. My father is a nice man, however he can become violent when angered, and I was accustomed to that type of punishment from men. However, I was not used to what came next.
"Alison, I am your husband now, and due to this, I would prefer you to call me by my name." I take a deep breath before replying.
'As you wish, Mr Wonderland.' He once again tenses, how could I have gotten it wrong? That is his name after all.
"No Alison. Not Sir, Master or Mr Wonderland. David, and just David."
The carriage goes silent after his words. He expects me to refer to him by David? That just seems so taboo. The women always refer to their husband formally. David seems to read my mind. "Alison, if that discomforts you then you mustn't worry about calling me David. However there shall be no 'Sirs' or 'Masters', unless you are playing around with me." I slowly shake my head. I can't call him another name that he doesn't wish to be called.
'I am sorry to say no. Alas, I must as I will call you what you wish to be referred to as. David.' A smile breaks out across his handsome features, making his blue eyes sparkly, despite the darkness of the colour.
At the sight of his smile I feel myself relax. Perhaps this long journey will be easier than I thought. I feel David's eyes on me, and I slowly look up to meet his blue eyes with my own green ones. He has a small smile playing across the handsome features of his face. He slowly leans towards me and small strands of his blonde hair fall from their place in the braid. Reaching out tentatively I push the stray strands behind his ears. When our skin makes contact I feel a small shock pulse up my arm. Did he feel it too? I have no time to ponder this question as David's face is getting closer and closer to my own. His face gets so close that I can feel his breath being exhaled on my lips, slowly drying them. My small tongue flicks out to moisten them, and then darts back into the darkness of my own mouth. Suddenly I feel a new sensation on my lips. David has his lips against my own, and his eyes are shut. I feel myself tense, and then relax and I close my own eyes.
I feel his lips start to slant across my own and his tongue darts out to run gently along my own lips. A small gasp escapes between my lips. The offending tongue quickly dashes though the opening in between my lips and skims my own tongue. The feeling is unlike any other. It is better than the sun on your skin, or the warmth of a fire on a cold snowy winter's night. His tongue starts a dance with my own, passing back and forth between my mouth and his own. I feel my breathing getting heavier; my heart starts to beat faster, until I think it will burst through my corset. Suddenly David breaks the kiss. He seems to be breathing just as heavily as myself. His lips look slightly swollen and are a darker red colour. I can only imagine what my own look like. He sits back in his seat and tries to even his breathing pattern.
