Delia sat alone in the outer vestibule of the church, where she had been sent by the lady to receive documents from the priest, who had been ordered the day before to draw them up. The lady had not asked Delia to fetch them directly; instead, the pageboy had told her on the way to the manor house that her lady had given him the message to convey to her. Delia thought it odd but considered that the lady probably trusted her more than one of the girls, so she had been sent. She had only asked the lady if it was a right time for her to go down to the church and she had responded "do as you like my dear!" and so here Delia sat, waiting. She couldn’t think why the priest had not come, for she had sent the servant woman for him in the priest’s abode.
Finally, Delia heard the sound of feet against the hollow of the stone slate floor, and she turned around on the stone bench to greet the priest. Delia started up, "excuse me my lord," she said curtseying and trying to make her way towards the door. "Where are you going, Delia?" "I do not wish to interrupt you, my lord, so if you will be so good as to let me by…" The lord put out his arm, stopping her. "Why are you always running away from me, Delia? Do I offend you?" "Oh, no, please, my lord. Forgive me, but I only wish to go on my way. I intend no offense," she curtseyed in vain, trying to get him to allow her by. "Delia, Delia, come now," he said taking her by the hand, "come now, and sit back down. Were you waiting for Father?" "Yes my lord," Delia answered, curtseying. "Well then, sit back down, and we’ll wait together. I’m sure he’ll be along shortly," he led her back to the stone bench and urged her to sit down next to him.
Since he had a grip on her hand, Delia could not refuse, but tried to keep her distance on the bench. "Delia, you do your best to avoid me," he said, inching closer to her and holding her hand in his lap. Delia nearly screamed as he moved her hand, outraged at the freedom with which he was treating her. "Surely you’re not afraid of me…" "No my lord," Delia said, turning her head feigning to look in anticipation for the priest. And what a sight he would be greeted with!
Delia started up, but still the lord managed to hold on to her wrist. "Forgive me my lord, but I should be returning to my lady, as it has been too long. I fear that the priest has not time to meet with me." "No, I insist that you stay with me, and I shall send my servant to fetch the priest, for he stands outside to receive my orders." The lord stood up and finally let go of her wrist, which was now somewhat red from his rough handling. She looked about her quickly to see if she could escape out some back door while he was calling his servant, but trying the door into the church, she found it to be barred. "Where are you going, Delia?" "I was looking to see if perhaps the priest was inside, my lord," she said quietly, fearing that her lips were quivering. "You appear ill at ease, but sit. I have sent my servant, and I’m sure he shall be back directly." "Thank you, my lord," Delia whispered, curtseying again.
The lord approached her and leaned in close to Delia’s face, which caused her to abruptly jump back. He caught her wrists, as Delia feared he might again. "My dear, you perplex me!" "I don’t see how, my lord. I fear I make myself only too clear." "Coy is what you are. Never have I been met with such a coy girl. You must know that I like you very much." "No, my lord, you quite mistake me. I mean not to be coy at all." "Then do not struggle so!" the lord said, pulling her closer. "My lord! You forget yourself! We are in a house of worship." "Ah, how sweet that this should worry you," he said, breathing heavily against her face. "My lord, forbear, for you yourself have sent for the priest…" Delia’s words trailed off as a horrible realization came to her, and the lord laughed cruelly in her face.
Delia struggled once again, and the lord only gripped her tighter. "Dear, do not take all the enjoyment out of this for yourself!" "My lord, you are terribly mistaken. I have not sought your advances." "You are only too humble. The other girls are not half as pretty as you are." Delia began to see things more clearly. "The others…" she began in fright and he smiled his cruel grin and bent down to kiss her. Delia tried to turn her head, but he held her fast with one hand. "My lord, I am a married woman! Does this mean nothing to you?" "Your husband? Delia, don’t play games with me. Do not worry about your brother." "No! No, he is my husband. I swear to it, my lord!" "Are you threatening me, Delia? Do you threaten your lord? Would you like me to handle your husband then? I can handle that situation quite neatly. And when I do, I can tell him with his dying breath that you sought me, that you bedded me by your own choosing." "Oh, my lord…" Delia began to sob.
He pulled her towards the stone bench, and in hysterics she pleaded, "my lady, my lord! Think of my lady!" "She is an old woman, and I took her in out of pity and for her wealth. She has not the appeal that you possess." "Oh, that I should not possess it. I beg of you my lord, mercy." "I don’t see why you cry so," the lord said, as he shoved her against the wall and gathered up her skirts, "you are not a maiden, if this man is indeed if your husband. What can you be protecting? I should think that you would be flattered. Relax my dear and enjoy yourself. It doesn’t have to be this way." "Then forbear and release me my lord. Forbear, for you only succeed in frightening me!" He pressed his body against hers, still reading fear in her eyes. "You shall run away if I release you." "No, my lord, I swear that I won’t. Only release me my lord, for if you don’t wish to rape me, then you must." "I shall have you either way, dear." Delia squirmed, and he let go of her.
She knew she could not manage to run for the door. Either he would grab her, or the servant guarding outside would stop her, so she knew not what to do other than bargain for time: "may not we meet at another time, my lord? I am quite shaken up at the moment." "You have held me off far too long as it is Delia. I had been promised a new form of delight as soon as I returned, and yet you have been so coy and cold with me." "I shan’t be so anymore, but please my lord, please, only let me return to my lady, for I am too shaken." "What causes you to delay? Calm yourself now then! I am tired of waiting!" the lord raged.
Delia stood still and watched him feeling as if she might faint. He stepped forward and touched her face with his large rough hands: "what delays you then? Is it…are you then in your time of month or with child?" Delia began to weep involuntarily as he touched her and said such repugnant things to her. "Perhaps you think that you can run to your husband and tell him all that has transpired and in that way avoid me. That would be unwise, indeed. You don’t want me to have to kill your husband, do you, dear?" Delia shook her head ‘no.’ "Do you know how I would do that? I’d stick my sword through his gut--a particular thrust that does not kill immediately, and then I shall inform him of what you have done with me. We don’t want that the happen now do we, dear?" He squeezed her, "no, my lord." "Then, let’s not await our blissful uniting a minute more, ‘yes?’ Come over here; the bench shall be big enough." Delia was led shaking to the bench, where he seated her and instructed her to lie back.
Images of her dearest Mark, dying for her flooded her mind and she began to weep more copiously. "You seem not to enjoy yourself, and yet I am being so careful with you, Delia. Now be a good girl and don’t struggle." He began to pull down his stockings beneath his heavy tunic lined with white rabbit skins, and then proceeded to lift her skirts. Delia closed her eyes and continued to cry. He pinned her arms to her side and lay on top of her, much heavier than Mark’s weight was ever upon her. She could scarcely breath. Frustrated in his beginning efforts, the lord looked at her on the verge of rage, "you are so damn nervous! Calm down or this shall never work." Delia felt that she should never be able to relax with this man, but then he thought to mention Mark again, and out of fear she did her best to obey.
***
Delia half stumbled, half ran along the road, not knowing where she was headed, but only knowing that she must find Mark as quickly as she could. After having made sure that the awful lord and his servant had actually left her, she had hurried towards the fields. Before she actually reached them, she saw Mark walking with two oxen, and upon seeing him, all went black.
***
"Delia, oh Delia, my love…" Mark’s voice seemed to Delia like a voice from heaven or some other far off place, calling softly to her, yet after a few minutes she was able to slowly part the lids of her eyes so that she could also see his face. She realized that she was lying in the bed of their house and Mark was leaning over her, nearly in tears. "Oh, you live yet. No, don’t try to speak sweetest. Here drink this. This will help you." Delia sipped the water Mark offered and found her mind clearing. "Delia, you collapsed in the road in a dead faint, and I had to carry you hence. My love, what happened to you? Shall I call for assistance?" "No!" Delia said in a muffled shout, "no, call for no one!" "Delia, my God, what has happened?" He stroked her forehead that was beaded with sickly sweat and looked at her with eyes that pleaded for understanding. "Mark, don’t leave me…" "No, no, never my love, never, but only tell me what is wrong. I am going no where."
He gripped her hand reassuringly, and Delia began in a whisper, "I don’t know how it all happened, but the lord…the lord…" "The lord what sweetness? It’s all right, I’m here…the lord what?" "I, he…he did what he should not have, and I told him ‘no.’" Mark’s eyes began to cloud and his brow knit together, his look had become less concerned and more verging on anger, "Delia, what did the lord do?" "I was waiting in the church. I thought the priest was coming to bring me the documents, but he wasn’t…he never came, but the lord did. He knew that I would be there…" As Delia spoke, she grew more hysterical and began to cry and to look not at Mark but around the room quickly, as if in fear that someone else was there. Mark, still holding her hand, stood upright and his chest began to heave. "And he wouldn’t let go of me and I told him ‘no!’" "Delia, did the lord hurt you? Are you all right? My God, Delia answer me! Have you been hurt?" "I…I…I ran away as soon as…as…" "I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him!" "No, oh God, no!" "You would have him live?"
Mark was yelling, and Delia sat forward, trying to cover his mouth and pet him like one would an agitated child. "No, Mark, please! I beg of you, no. He, he will kill you. He has already threatened you. Please, oh God, Mark. Who will I have, if I don’t have you? There will be no one, and…oh, he shall…oh!" Seeing her distress, Mark collected himself and put his arms around her. "Shhh…no one will hurt you again, my love. Shhh…be at peace. Shhh…we leave at once." Delia continued to weep; yet she held fast to Mark, who continued to pet her head and encircle her with his arms. "Can you walk? Are you all right? Have you the strength? I don’t want him to come back here and make sure…are you all right, love?" Delia stood up with visible weakness, but professed she could walk if helped.
Mark gathered up all the food that he could pack into a sack and instructed Delia to put on all her undergarments as well as her heaviest dress. He did the same himself, before gathering together some extra blankets and tools to start a fire. Delia produced a knife, which he took from her, looking her strangely in the face, as if anger looked out from his eyes and not Mark. "Oh, Mark, my husband, tell me if you despise me." "Delia, I could never hate you. I would kill for you, if you only let me," he said, grabbing the sack. "Mark, we shall be seen leaving. It is too obvious with the sacks. We shall be caught and…and…" "Calm yourself, my love. You must save yourself for the journey, for we must travel quickly." "Then we leave now, while all can see?" "My dearest, you know not how time passes! Twilight is upon us, and if we leave now we shall soon be enveloped by the night. Come, take my hand and do not be afraid."
VII
They had been traveling for nigh on two weeks, barely sleeping and eating little, when they came upon a small town. The town was small enough that it did not have any city gates, and Mark and Delia freely wandered into it, seeking the anonymity that comes with large groups of people. "Perhaps there is an inn," Mark said, speaking for the first time in what had been possibly a full day: neither had the strength to speak any longer. "But we have nothing to pay with," Delia said wiping at her brow. "I can work tomorrow to pay for tonight’s rest." "No, Mark, we must keep moving." "A day here should not be too dangerous, no more so than in the forest I would gather. You need to rest: you are so pale that it worries me." Delia took Mark’s hand once again, and they set into the town to look for an inn.
Turning the corner, they were met by a familiar face, which Delia had so much dreaded that at first she sought to turn her head. "Praise be! Who would have ever thought to see you here, but then, I see you don’t recall me." "No, no we do John." Hearing Mark speak warmly to the man, Delia looked again, and saw that it was John, the man whom they had met while in the forest having run from Christianium. "What be ye doing here abouts?" "I’m afraid it is a rather sorted tale." "Aye, truly? Need ye a place to stay? Alice and I, we have a small place above a shop; it isn’t much, but you are more than welcome." Mark looked to Delia, who did nothing but hang limply on his arm. "We would be very much obliged to you, but I’m afraid that we already owe you more than we could ever repay." "Nonsense! Alice would never let it rest, if I told her I’d seen ye all and not brought ye back to see her." "Then, thank you," Mark said, shaking John’s hand warmly.
Delia and Mark followed John to his apartment, where they found Alice and a small set up of pottery tools, tables, and a small bed. Alice started up from the kettle where she was preparing a late meal. "Aye! Look here! Delia and Mark!" Alice ran forward and embraced Delia. "Who would have thought. John, where did you find these friends?" "They were traveling through our little town, and I insisted that they stay the night with us." "Aye, as you should! How glad I am to see you. Come sit down. There is meal enough for all of us to share. I hope it shan’t be too meager for you all. Looks as if you’ve been through it. Did you never settle down anywhere?" Mark quickly answered, "no, we never did." Delia looked at him with some measure of amazement. She only wished that he would now take her hand so that she wouldn’t feel so alone and frightened.
They ate their meal and conversed as best they could with John and Alice, until their hosts suggested that they all get a good night’s sleep, at which suggestion, Mark and Delia quickly fell asleep on the straw and blankets, which were placed on the floor for them. Alice quietly blew out the candles that had lit the room and followed John into their own bed, where she could tell by his breathing that he was still awake.
She rolled over close to him and whispered in his ear, "they aren’t the same young couple we met that many months ago, husband." "And what do you mean by that, Alice?" "Only that they might be by the same name and all, but to look at them you can even tell they are different. The girl seems almost about to die of nervousness and the man…he seems so different as well, almost embittered." "Aye, I noticed it too. Perhaps this life of travel has been too much for them." "Then they better settle down. Never a sweeter or more innocent couple was there ever a few months ago, and now…" "Could they settle down here then?" "Nay, I wouldn’t think they could find anything now. They’ll need to travel a bit farther to the North, to a bigger town, a city perhaps. There is always enough to be done there." "But what can they do?" "Surely we must know someone they could work for…we shall ask them tomorrow if they have any skills." "Aye, we shall then. You are a good wife." "You’re sure of that even after these years then?" "Aye, that I am."
The morning sun broke in through the one window of the apartment, and Delia sat up, confused by her surroundings. She looked down and saw Mark still asleep on the floor, a good foot away from her, and forgetting for a moment all that had happened, she moved over close to him and rested her head on his chest. Out of habit Mark enfolded her in his arms, and slowly began to awake. He realized where they were and turned his head to see if their lodgers were awake. Seeing them nowhere in the room, he realized that they had slept much later than this couple ever did, it being sunrise already. "Delia, Alice and John are gone." "Should we be awake then?" "Yes, I am afraid so."
As the past few weeks’ events unfolded in Delia’s memory, she began to cry. "Shhh…" Mark said soothingly, feeling less angry and more soothed by a solid night’s sleep. He stroked her head. "I’m sorry," Delia whispered. "For what, my love?" "For…for letting that happen to me." Mark clenched his jaw, "Delia, you were…raped." It was the first time Mark or Delia had said the words. "No, but I don’t know," Delia said, burying her head in his chest and shaking quietly with tears. Mark was confused by her answer, and continued to silently stroke her thick hair. "I…I did it to save you. He told me that if I didn’t…then he would kill you. He swore it to me and I would do anything for you Mark."
He stopped petting her, "what do you mean, Delia?" She didn’t answer, but slowly stopped crying, somewhat realizing that Mark’s arms had stiffened around her. "What happened Delia?" "Oh, but you don’t want to know, Mark. Oh God, please don’t be angry, for I did it only thinking of your safety. I would have let him kill me instead, if he hadn’t promised to kill you if I fought him anymore. So, I…I…I let him do it, I stopped struggling. I didn’t scream." They lay there for what must have been five minutes, but for what seemed to both Mark and Delia like an hour. "We should get up," Mark said roughly, and unceremoniously sat up disengaging himself from Delia.
John and Alice finally returned from their trip to Mark and Delia and began immediately to suggest the idea that had come to them the night before. "Perhaps you would like to find a place to settle down for awhile?" Alice asked of both of them, but Delia would not raise her head to meet her eyes. Mark coldly nodded, and then thought better of it, "we couldn’t think of staying here in your town…it is too small and…it wouldn’t suit us." "Nay, you are right in that, and Alice and I were saying that ye should be traveling a bit farther North to the big city there--where there would be more for ye to do." "Have you any skills? We know many folks there abouts that could fit you up with something as nice as this at least." "Well…" Mark said thinking.
Delia mumbled, "I can make hats." "Hats you say? What kind of hats, straw ones?" "No, ladies’ caps hats…anything from something rather plain to very fancy types. My father was a hat maker." "Truly now! Well then, that could work out very well in a bigger city," Alice said, brightening with the fulfillment of her hope. "Course, that takes a lot of supplies, and I don’t suppose ye all be having that much money or things to trade," John said. "No, no they don’t, but our friends would surely help them in that. We know weavers and such…they could give you the cloth. I’m sure it could all be managed." "I don’t want to be in debt." "If we do well, we shan’t be in debt long," Delia said defiantly without meeting Mark’s gaze. "There’s the spirit!" Alice said, clapping her hands. John began to walk towards his work bench, where he had some paper, "I can have a note sent with you, telling who sends you, but I’ll have to have it written up real good by the clerk." "I can write," Mark said, following him. "Oh my! Do you write too, Delia?" Alice asked smiling, and Delia only shook her head ‘no.’ "Aye, well neither do I. John can do numbers and sign his name though, which is all we need."
VIII
"We don’t know anything about making hats, Delia." "No, you’re wrong. I do know how to make hats, and I’m rather good at it. You could do it too. And you’re good with numbers, you can read and write…I don’t see why you wouldn’t be an excellent merchant." Mark refused to meet her eyes. "And what if when we arrive, these friends of theirs don’t care to help us out? What then do we do? We’ll be in a large city with nothing to do, no where to go, nothing to eat…" Delia interrupted him by holding out her hand in front of him. "Mark, I know you despise me, and you won’t listen to me, but I know how smart you are and I know you can succeed at anything you do. I can help you too, because I am a merchant’s daughter. If you want, I can leave after you get started enough." "Delia, I don’t hate you. And you’re my wife, so enough of that talk," he said this, but he still did not look at her.
***
They slowly made their way towards the city, which was bigger than anywhere Mark or Delia had been. As they climbed a hill they finally saw it in its jumble gathered below in a valley. Farmland stretched out around the city limits and they could see people walking on the roads entering the city gates. The very sight overwhelmed the country senses of Delia and Mark. Delia looked to Mark, wishing she could share in a sense of joy with him, but she now felt like he wanted very little to do with her. He saw her gaze in his line of sight, and said with a sigh, "city air breathes free, so they say." He was right, if they remained hidden in the city for a year and day from the time they ran from the lord’s land, then they would be free by order of the law.
They hurried towards the gates, now that the goal was in sight, and after they stated their purpose to the guards at the gate, they entered. They didn’t know where the people they had been told to seek out lived, so it took most of the day asking around before they came to the rug weavers shop was found, and they could speak with the owner.
"We were sent by John and his wife, who make pottery. They claim a friendship with you," Mark said, handing the large man the letter. "Yes, of course," the man said, not looking at the letter. "John and I are from the same village. How can I help you?" "John and his wife told us that you might help us for a while, until we can set up our business." "Which is?" "My wife and I would like to set up a hat shop." "Just hats, eh?" "Yes, just hats." "Sounds awfully fancy." "Well, some of it would be." "How much help are you in need of?" "I’m afraid a lot. John speaks for our reliability though. My wife’s father was a successful hat maker and I can read, write, and work with numbers well." "Truly? Well…are you needing a place to stay?" "Yes, we basically have nothing. We have no money to even begin a business." The man sighed.
Delia had been looking around the store. It was not only woven rugs made locally, but also rugs which were from the Orient and also Arabia. She knew this man must have a good deal of money and a good business to have such foreign trade contacts.
"So, this letter asks my help?" "Yes, sir. It does. But, sir, I abhor debt, and even if our business would not make enough money, I would see to it that your favors would be repaid. I would work for you myself doing anything, sir." "Well, in truth, I owe a good deal to John’s father and you seem like a good sort of boy. John must think so. Me and my family live in a house some ways from here, and we have a room you could stay in for awhile, and tomorrow I can start seeing about a place for you to have your store and such." "Thank you very much sir," Mark said, shaking the man’s hand. "Call me Godfrey."
The room in Godfrey’s house had been for Godfrey’s girls when they were young, but they were now all married, so his wife, Juliana, had been using it to store things. Godfrey and Mark worked at clearing it out, while Godfrey’s youngest son, Alan, who was their only child still living with them, went into the attic to look for the old bed and a table as well. Delia sat with Juliana, a gray haired lady of possibly forty-five years. Juliana seemed very kind, and offered Delia some hot milk as soon as she arrived.
"How long have you been traveling, my child?" "Oh, I’m not sure…months though." "Months! Oh goodness, that must have been very taxing. I don’t think I’ve ever traveled for that long. Mr. Godfrey and I moved here with our oldest child, Edith, from our native village, which was trip enough! Oh, but now you shall not have to travel again." Delia smiled, as she drank the milk. "Scoot over there closer to the fire, my child. You’re just a little thing, and I can only imagine how cold it is outside. I haven’t been outside in maybe a week. We’ll have to get some of the girls’ old things out as well…a shawl at least!" "Excuse me," Delia said, covering up a yawn. "Oh, you poor dear, how tired you look. I’ll see if they’re finished moving the things yet, and then you can rest until dinner." Delia didn’t seek to stop Juliana, since she was so very tired.
Juliana called up the stairs, "have you got the place all cleared out? Miss here is so tired, poor child." In reply, Godfrey came down the stairs followed by Mark. "It should be enough for now," Godfrey said to Mark. "Oh, certainly, it is more than enough." "Good then. Now where is Alan? He should have brought down that furniture by now." "Well, sounds as if he is working on it," Godfrey said, hearing the scraping on the floorboards above. "Then follow me, child, and we’ll get your things settled," Juliana said, extending her hand, and Delia stood up going to her.
Alan slid past them, bowing slightly to Delia, as she passed him. He looked all of about sixteen. Juliana lit a candle in the room and sighed. "Oh, this simply isn’t a very nice room anymore, having not been lived in for more than a year. But then maybe you shall have your own soon enough." "It is quite enough, thank you," Delia said feeling tears well up in her eyes. "My child! What is wrong? Are you all right? Should I call for your husband?" "Oh, no thank you. Don’t bother him. Please don’t tell him I was upset," Delia said, quickly wiping at her eyes. "As you wish," Juliana said, putting her arm around Delia. "Come, see, Alan has made the bed. My boys must do these things on their own you see. Lay down my dear and sleep. You are simply tired out." "Thank you, ma’am. You…you remind me of my mother, and that only disturbed me for a moment. I’ll be all right." "How dear of you to pay me such a compliment. I suppose it has been a while since you have seen your mother?" "Yes ma’am." "Well, then for now you may think of me as your mother, for I have no girls left." Juliana blew out the candle and left the room.
They sat at the dinner table and ate with Godfrey, Juliana, and Alan. Godfrey was at the head of the table with Mark at the other end. Juliana sat at the right side of Godfrey with Delia being placed on the right side of Mark, next to Alan. Godfrey asked some questions of both Mark and Delia, and Delia noticed that Alan paid prodigious attention to her as she spoke, even turning around sidewise in his chair. She tried to avoid his gaze, even though she thought him perfectly harmless. She had known plenty of boys like him in the village of Christianium, and she had even been promised to one when she had run away with Mark. Mark had never known that, she thought reflecting.
That night after dinner, Delia went up to their room before Mark was done talking with Godfrey. She quietly undressed with the candle that poorly lit the room. The room was a bit cold, as it didn’t have a fireplace, but the chimney did come up along the wall and heat radiated from that. Still, she wanted to quickly change and get under the covers. She had just climbed into the tick bed with the wonderfully heavy coverings, when Mark opened the door, his figure silhouetted by the light coming up from the stairs. He came in wordlessly, and began to undress himself. Even though Delia had made herself as small as possible on one side of the spacious bed, Mark did not come to the bed.
Delia sat up, "Mark, would you rather I slept on the floor?" "Good God! Someone will hear you," he said, coming to sit on the edge of the bed. Delia lay back down, hoping Mark would lie down soon. It only seemed like things were getting worse between them. "Alan seemed to like you quite a bit, didn’t he?" Mark asked her in an embittered hushed voice. Delia didn’t know what to say. "Well, I’m not imagining things, am I? He couldn’t keep his eyes off of you, could he?" "Mark…please, this isn’t helping. He is a harmless boy." "He is just as old as you and I, that’s what I know. How do you know he is so harmless? Just how do you tell who you are safe from, Delia?" "Mark, please…not tonight. Can’t we just be happy to be where we are? Nothing is going to happen with their silly boy."
Her teeth began to chatter as she spoke the last sentence, and Mark turned to look at her for the first time since he entered the room. "You’re chilled," he said coldly. "No, I’m fine," Delia said laying back down. "Are you wearing…stockings?" Mark asked, pulling the covers up around her chin. "No," Delia said. He got up from the bed and walked over to her pile of clothing set out on the bed. He gingerly went through them and pulled out her cleanest pair of stockings. He came back to the bed and pulled back the covers, but Delia, overcome with exhaustion had already fallen asleep. Mark sat still for a moment, hoping she would wake, but she didn’t, and he didn’t wish to disturb her either. So, he took her feet carefully one at a time and slid the heavy stockings onto them all the way up to her thigh. He felt the goose bumps on her skin as he slid them on, his hands brushing her skin, and tears began to sting his eyes.
‘Why his Delia?’ he thought to himself, before climbing underneath the covers himself. He lay on the far side of the bed, no where near touching her, and yet he lay this night facing his wife, so he could watch her breathe and see her face in the pale moonlight coming through the window. It was a form of torture he could not give up.
