The First Snowdrop

He did not know quite what he was going to do when he returned to London. His not-insubstantial mansion in the city would seem bleak and empty without A

His daughter. At least he would have Catherine to give some meaning to his life and to remind him of A

Merrick was standing in the library, a glass of brandy in his hand, staring out into the darkness of late evening. Calling the room a library, he thought, turning to look around him, was to dignify the room considerably. There were very few books there. Now if he were to move here from London, he could bring his substantial library with him. His books would show to advantage in this room, which A

Merrick made a gesture of impatience and drank the remains of his brandy in one gulp. There was no point in such self-indulgent thoughts. That was his trouble. He had always been insufferably selfish. Let him do one selfless deed in his life. No more talking about leaving. He would do it the next day. He would go now and tell A

A

There was a brief tap on her door and it opened. A

"My apologies," he said. "I did not realize that you had retired already. But I did not wish to wait until morning. I shall be leaving tomorrow, A

Her stomach lurched and her knees felt weak, but she showed no outward sign. "I see," she said.

"You will be glad to see me go," he said abruptly. "Soon your garden will be keeping you busy, I expect."

"Yes," she said.

"I shall try to leave before noon," he said, "so that we can be home before dark. I shall take the carriage and have it returned within a few days for your convenience."

"Yes," A

"I shall take Nurse with me and hire a wet-nurse as soon as we reach London," he said.

"What?"

"Is she too young to be weaned?" he asked. "I am not sure. I have meant to ask you."

"What are you talking about?" A

"I shall take Catherine with me tomorrow," he said. "Perhaps she is too young to be taken from you, but I thought it best to take her when I am here to care for her and protect her on the way. My God, A

Merrick lunged forward and caught his wife as her knees buckled under her. He could almost feel sound coming from her before the terrible wail finally escaped her lips.

"My God," he said, "what is it?"

But A

Finally A

Merrick took her firmly by the arms and sat her down on the edge of the high bed. He knelt on the floor in front of her and smoothed a damp strand of hair away from her face. "What is it?" he said. "What have I done?"

A

He stared up at her for a moment and then got to his feet and drew her into his arms, pressing her face against his shoulder. "A

She was too distraught to hear him. "Please, Alex," she said. "Please. Don't take Catherine. Oh, I shall die. I shall die." She put her arms up around his neck and clung to him.

"Hush," he said, rocking her in his arms. "Hush, love. I would not hurt you for worlds. Hush now."

A

They were both shaken, A

Merrick tore at her nightgown, too impatient to open the buttons down the front, and lifted her naked body onto the bed. He followed her there in but a few moments, his own clothes having suffered just as rough a fate. He came between her thighs and pushed urgently into her so that she cried out and twined her arms and legs around him. And together they found a rhythm intense in its need to be completed. He thrust deeper and deeper into her, and she opened and lifted herself more intimately against him, each straining for the unity that their love craved, both believing in their hearts that it was in reality but a one-sided experience. Yet they reached their climax together and murmured their release against each other's lips.

When rational thought returned, A