That week, Maria and Dick enjoyed their honeymoon by lazing in the haystack, making love as often as they liked, and exploring the area. Dick admitted he had never dared ramble on the moors, his mother's tales of people drowning and disappearing had scared him so badly he never tried, except when Dennis accompanied him so Dick could go fishing. But now Maria was with him and she was eager to learn how to stay safe amidst the peat bogs.
Dennis taught both of them how to recognize the bogs, deep pits filled with a thick soup made of living mosses that looked just like a fresh green field, but would swallow a person whole. Though both Dick and Maria had grown up in this area, neither of them had ever learned how to be safe off the paths, and yet it wasn't even very difficult. With a few simple measures they could protect themselves from any danger the moors presented them, and going out there provided them with a lot of privacy: no-one ever came there besides Dennis and Mrs Beauchamp, and in this dry summer there were endless possibilities for making love under a blue sky.
Dennis took Agnes to the attic every morning, where they sat on the bed together and Dennis soothed his beloved's guilt. His own confidence grew until he hardly recognized himself, even when he was still leading a gang of youths into danger he'd had insecurities, and there had been constant danger. Now, life was sweet, and safe, and he could face and even look forward to the responsibilities he would have as Agnes' husband.
Of course Agnes noticed soon enough, in the way he held her, and the things he said to try to relieve her remorse. Fortunately Dennis did not spy any fear in her, she had been very afraid of being ruled by a man, so much so that it had made her chain him to the wall to prevent him from taking over her life. But it seemed she trusted him, for though his newly found confidence surfaced in everything he did, lovemaking no exception, she relished his decisiveness, and when he took her like that first time back in the attic, she gave herself up to him with something much like relief.
He asked her outright.
'Do you mind being taken like that, Agnes? I allow my lust to take over from me, but I can control it if it makes you feel unhappy in any way.'
Still a bit out of breath from their love-play she replied, 'I love it, Dennis. This whole change in you, you're so calm and strong, I feel very safe with someone steady behind me. I loved the needy you so much, and I would have been very happy if you had stayed dependent on me, but this is much safer and much more comfortable. I can let go of the responsibilities sometimes, and I know everyone will be all right if something should happen to me. As for the taking, I don't even feel threatened by your dominant attitude anymore. I love it, again, I can let you take over for a few moments and let go myself, just take things as they come. When you give your passion free rein it's so powerful, I'm totally overcome and I love it.
But what about the rest of your feelings, like jealousy? Do you feel possessive of me now? You never minded sharing me once in a while, do you now? Would you mind if I made love to Guy? He's starting to look at me in a certain way, I think he's aching for some pussy, but I won't give it to him if you don't want me to.'
Did he mind? He didn't feel jealous, he had often joined Guy's and Patrick's efforts to please Agnes when he was still unable to fuck her, and it was mostly very hot, especially since either of the two men would always see to him and their methods of pleasing a man were rather thorough.
'I cannot say the thought makes me jealous, Agnes. More jealous of you than them, if anything, they are such experts in the art of loving. I so love to watch you having sex, it's so hot! And you know I love you moe than anyone, but when Dick nonchalantly suggested I join the two of them making love sometimes I have to admit I was tempted. Imagine what the neighbours would say if they knew.'
Laughing, Agnes replied, 'They say plenty without having any proof. You know I don't mind if you join Dick and Maria once in a while. Too bad I cannot have Dick return the favour, I suppose Maria won't like that. Can't we set her up with Guy and Patrick?'
The very thought of Maria's voluptuous shape in the hands of the two beautiful men gave Dennis a flash of heat, and he observed, 'That would be something, but I suppose Dick and Maria would do better to get to know each other first. She's not exactly wordly-wise, you know, though she picks things up really quickly.'
The weeks after their honeymoon, Maria and Dick got up together every morning, and he would take her as far as the outcrop before breakfast, sometimes taking the time to make love under the large rock, and sometimes in a hurry because they had indulged themselves in their own bedroom already. Maria had decided she would take her breakfast at her parents' home, the temptations at the manor house were just too large for her to resist every day.
She was feeling her pregnancy now, contrary to her sisters and Mrs Beauchamp she did not suffer from nausea, but rather felt hungry all the time. Delicacies she could usually ignore with ease were now forcing themselves on her senses, their smell would tease her until she'd no longer be able to refuse them. Better be removed from the source of the temptation altogether. Dick didn't know, yet, Maria was so afraid he wouldn't understand that children could result from intercourse even if one pulled back before the climax, she hadn't dared tell him so far. But to herself it was starting to show, her breasts were firming, her face was fuller, of course Dick didn't know her that long, and maybe wasn't as perceptive, but she did need to tell him soon. But how?
They'd had such a lovely time together, with the cute puppy of course always following them around, even into their bedroom, where she had a little basket in a corner. But Dick might spoil Pixie a little, he also did a very good job teaching her manners, she never chased the cats and the chickens, she didn't eat from the pile of manure outside the stables, nor did she roll in the smelly stuff. Dennis had helped, but Dick seemed to have a kind of instinct for raising a puppy, he never lost his temper, but stuck to the rules they had decided on together, never once letting Pixie get away with something because it looked cute.
'It's as if you've done this before, Dick,' Dennis said one day, full of admiration for his friend.
'Thank you, Dennis,' her beloved replied, 'I have never had a dog of my own, but I wished to have one very much. So I always looked at other people who had one or more and saw them handle theirs, and decided on how I would do it and remembered that. I'm glad it worked out.'
Dick liked Dennis, and Dennis seemed very able to explain things to Dick. Maybe Maria should enlist his aid to tell Dick she was pregnant already, it would be such a relief to be able to share the knowledge.
Decision made, she spent the afternoon hemming and stitching what her father had pinned together, feeling ever more dissatisfied doing only the simple jobs. Her father had never had much ambition, he was very pleased to make Sunday wear and sturdy coats for the local people, but Maria knew she could do more. She had helped her mother fit all their dresses since she was twelve years old, and her sisters still came home for fittings, no seamstress they could afford did a better job. None of the women she saw in church had better-fitted dresses than her mother and sisters, though some could afford a seamstress from town.
And childrens' clothes, too. Children weren't little adults, they couldn't sit still all day, they needed to run and play and parents would love them to still look nice. She had some great ideas about making special garments for little girls and boys, sturdy and still good-looking. She had never dared to make some samples for her sisters' offspring, her father would merely tell her no-one was going to pay to have their childrens' everyday clothes made by a professional, especially not where they lived.
Somehow, the people at the manor house seemed to think differently, in possibilities instead of finding obstacles. Mrs Beauchamp didn't need the proceeds of her books, she'd been left very well-off by her late husband and her own fortune, but still she earned enough to make a living with something only a few hundred customers cared to buy, but those rich enough to pay well.
There were many more children than there were readers of naughty books, and some of them had rich parents, some of them less so. But all parents wanted their children to look nice, and not just on Sundays, not just in their sized-down ladies' dresses and gentlemen's suits.
She would not discuss this with her father, she would gather her courage and tackle Guy in his little study, where he kept Mrs Beauchamp's household books and investments. He might be able to help her calculate how much money she'd need to buy fabrics to make a few samples, and how to take them to the most profitable market, locally or in the nearest town. And maybe advertise in a local paper.
