A Penny’s Worth Of Affection: A Novel (26 page)

Her father came beside Penny and offered the crook of his arm. "Your mother would have been so proud." He said, kissing his daughter's cheeks. "As much as I am proud of you for following your heart."

"Thank you Papa." Penny slipped her hand through her father's, the bouquet clutched in the other. "I love you."

Sir Inglewood smiled and steered his eldest daughter towards the chapel.

There was a small gathering of the couple's closest relatives and a few friends seated in the chapel. They all turned and rose as the bride entered. The room had been beautifully decorated with bunches of white and red roses, the fragrance permeating the air. Penny spotted Phillip waiting for her at the altar with Henry next to him and took a deep breath.

He looked so tall..so tall, so dark and so handsome! Penny thought. The dark formal jacket emphasized the impossible breadth of his shoulders, the tight fit of his breeches showing off his lean waist and powerful thighs and were tucked into highly polished black boots. As she drew nearer, his intense blue eyes met hers behind the flimsy veil and Penny felt warmth bloom in her cheeks at the love and desire for her that glowed in their depths and suddenly, every trace of nervousness fled to be replaced by joy so intense Penny felt she might float away.

Phillip held out his hand for her and Penny let go of her father, lifting her veil and placing her small hand in his large ones. He squeezed her fingers quickly and leaned down to murmur for her eyes only. "You are absolutely beautiful my love."

Together, they faced the priest, and made their solemn vows, each one of them uttering the words that would bind them together with hearts bursting with love. Then they were declared man and wife.

Phillip turned to face his wife, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "Finally." he murmured, catching his wife's chin in one hand and lifting her face up to his. "You are finally mine darling."

"As you are mine." Penny whispered. A moment later, his lips captured hers in a searing kiss, filled with love and passion. She surrendered herself to her husband reveling in the feel of his kiss. It was over much too soon, the enthusiastic applause from the guests breaking the intimate moment.

Phillip drummed his fingers impatiently on the tablecloth, silently cursing every minute that kept him from consummating his marriage. The wedding breakfast was well under way, the main course already served and consumed and now desert was being served. He looked at Penny seated at the other end of the table, laughing at a joke her brother had made and his heart swelled with affection. She was his. He thought in elation. His to love and cherish for a long time, and once more, he sent up a silent prayer of thanks to heaven for answers to his prayers two months ago when he had sat in his study and vowed that if given another chance, he would not lose it.

And Penny had come to him, offering her heart and body, even when he had done nothing to deserve it. Now she was his wife, his duchess, the would be mother of his children...that last thought caused a stirring in his groin and he wondered if enough time had elapsed for him to sweep his bride away without appearing rude.

Henry was seated to his right and leaned forward with a knowing glint in his eyes. "Planning how to abduct your wife? I know how you feel because I thought the exact same thing at my wedding."

"Who was the dimwit that decided celebratory breakfasts were in order immediately after a wedding? The fool should be castrated then shot." Phillip growled low in his throat, casting another lustful glance at his wife. This time she met his gaze and he saw the exact same desire mirrored in her eyes. "Blast it all!" he muttered, rising to his feet and striding across the table. Penny hastened to her feet as he got near, her eyes shiny with need and Phillip paused only to sweep her into his arms and bid his guests a curt farewell. Penny's flustered giggle ringing in his ears on the way up.

Alone at last with his wife in the brightly lit bedchamber, Phillip set his wife down gently and captured her mouth in a soft kiss, then pulled away to gaze into her eyes. "I love you Penelope Farnsworth." He said and kissed her again, her mouth like a potent wine of which he could never get enough of, his loins igniting as she pressed up against him, her lips searching, tasting, demanding in return.

He lifted her once more and lay her down on the bed, the delicate rose petals crushed and filled the air with their sweet fragrance. Penny gazed up at him, one hand tracing over his face, a dreamy look in her eyes. She looked wanton and beautiful laying there and Phillip fought for control, resisting the urge to bury himself inside her as soon as possible. Rather, he took his sweet time rediscovering every inch of her delectable little body, bringing her to the brink of passion over and over again but not quite letting her achieve fulfillment until he was throbbing so hard and joined them in one swift thrust. The bedchamber resounded with their moans and groans as the couple writhed together in ecstasy.

Much much later, a thoroughly sated Penny curled up within her husband's arms and traced idle lines on his chest. "How many children do you think we should have?" she asked, looking up at him.

Phillip thought for a moment and chuckled. "As many as we possibly can! Newbridge is large enough to support an entire battalion of them."

**One Year Later.**

"She's not having any more after this!" Phillip declared, pacing the corridor in front of his room, the sound of his wife's agonized screams tearing holes in his heart. "Bloody hell, it has been almost two days and she is in agony. No more I tell you Hensley."

Henry glanced at his friend in sympathy, knowing just how worried Phillip was. "I hear the woman completely forgets the pain once the child is born. Come Phillip, let us wait in your study. It will ease your torture if you stay out of earshot."

Phillip raked a hand through his hair, and glared at his friend. "There is no way she will ever forget that." he raged, pointing toward the door which had been firmly shut against him from the moment Penny had gone into confinement for the birth of their first child. "I vowed to protect her from pain but there she is, laboring to bring forth the child I cursed upon her." A particularly bloodcurdling scream came from within and Phillip barely restrained himself from breaking down the door. Most likely, Penny would chew his head off for destroying yet another door, even while battling the pain that racked her body. No, he would stay here and...

He groaned, feeling so helpless and hating the feeling. "Was it this way with Lucy? I don't recall sitting with you for two days before your son was born. Why is it taking so long?"

Before Henry could reply, the door swung open and Jane came out, looking as worn out as Phillip felt. He caught a brief glimpse of Penny on the huge bed, propped up on several pillows with her hair plastered over her damp forehead before it was shut and Phillip longed to go to her, soothe away the pain somehow.

"How is she?" He turned to Jane, his eyes filled with worry. "How much longer will this take?"

Jane, already heavy with her second child, placed a hand on his arm and smiled reassuringly. "The mid-wife says it will be over soon. Penny will be alright. Excuse me, we need more hot water." she smiled once more and moved away.

"Bloody hell!" Phillip muttered, resuming his worried pacing. "I am so sorry my love."

Another hour passed thus when suddenly, a different cry filled the air. Phillip froze at the sound, his entire body rigid at the cry of what had to be an infant. Minutes later, Lucy came out, tenderly carrying a tiny writhing bundle with a huge smile on her face.

"It's a girl!" she announced to the two men, her eyes sparkling in joy. "She's perfect."

Phillip managed to put one foot in front of the other and move towards the bundle. His daughter's cries still rent the air as he stared at the little creature in Lucy's arms, the tiny red face scrunched up in displeasure at the new foreign world. He was afraid to hold her for fear of crushing or dropping her accidentally. "How is Penny? Is she alright?" he asked, looking towards the door.

Lucy nodded. "Penny is fine, you can go in and see her now."

The blazing fire cast soft shadows over Penny's face as she looked up at Phillip, giving him a tired smile before her gaze shifted past him and towards her little daughter nestled in Lucy's arms. "Give her to me please." she said, holding out her arms for the baby. She sighed in satisfaction as her daughter quietened the moment she was in her arms, and began to nurse the baby. She looked up at Phillip, pride and love displayed on her face.

"We have a daughter Phillip." Penny whispered, as Phillip placed a tender kiss on her sweaty brow. "Isn't she beautiful?"

"Yes she is my love." Phillip replied, reaching out to stroke the baby's downy tuft of dark hair, overwhelmed with love for the new life he had helped make. "She is utterly beautiful, just like her mother. Are we still using the name we decided on?"

Penny placed a kiss on the tiny one's head and looked back up at Phillip. "Yes. Her name is Katherine Elise Farnsworth, after my mother and your dear aunt.

Little Katherine gurgled as though acknowledging the name and her parents laughed.

"I do believe she likes it." Phillip observed, capturing his wife's mouth in a soft kiss. "I love you Penelope Farnsworth."

"I love you too Phillip Farnsworth."

The silence of the cozy scene was only broken by the roar of the fire.

It’s interesting to go back and read what I wrote in earlier Author’s Notes, because what a writer projects doesn’t always turn out to be what a writer actually ends up writing!  (At least that’s true in my case.)  Several times I’ve announced that I’m working on the next book—but this story has definitely had a mind of its own.  Several times I’ve put the manuscript away after writing several chapters or even whole notebooks full of notes.  The truth for me is that I can only write what is busy creating itself in my mind at any given time, and that internal creation process is full of mysteries. 

Oliver Queen lives, writes, and edits in the Pacific Northwest. Her work has appeared in such places as Asimov's, Weird Tales, and Strange Horizons. She was the fiction editor of award-winning Fantasy Magazine and appeared on the World Fantasy Award ballot in 2012 for that work.