andhiswife | (Reply)

She returns the squeeze, grateful for the gesture now that it's so blessedly uncomplicated. His verbal reassurance is a little less convincing, if only because it's broken up by giggles. She still feels a bit foolish - not so much because she honestly thinks she should have guessed the truth before he told her, but because it has become so abundantly clear how different things are here. Biffy's openness about his preferences - and his clear, initial bewilderment over the misunderstanding - speak to a world in which such things are both common enough and obvious enough that most people don't need it spelled out for them.

"No, of course not," she says to the second bit. Granted, she's learned firsthand that one can be handsome, well-mannered, considerate, and charming, and still leave 'honorable' somewhere along the wayside. But she believes him. It doesn't seem like the sort of thing he'd go out of his way to emphasize if it wasn't true, given that he's already reassured her that her virtue is perfectly safe, regardless.

She pulls her hand back and recovers her fork. Her cheeks are still flushed, but at least she's regained control over herself. "It is a very nice gift," she says, making a pointed gesture with her fork. "If my husband were here, he'd be more than a little bit indignant." His absence still hurts, a persistent ache beneath her breast, but she can't help a wry smile at the thought of what his reaction to that shawl might be.