thought as to what had been about to take place. “Oh, and good thing you are also here, a trip I shall not have to make, Mr. Davis. Come, supper is ready and my wife waits,” he said, waiting for the two to follow him.
Angel felt as if she had jumped a mile in the air when she heard Oswald’s loud, animated voice, she didn’t know whether to curse or say thank you that he had interrupted the two. Angel felt like cursing. She had wanted more than anything for Asher to kiss her, to feel his warm, soft supple lips upon hers. She had to get under control.
“ Oh, yes, thank you, Mr. Oswald,” Angel said before realizing she had as of yet to freshen up. Never the mind, she hurriedly pulled her hair back in its’ bun, feeling Asher’s eyes upon her the entire time, even though she’d turned her back to him to peer into the small hanging mirror above the basin.
It felt intensely personal, him seeing her do something as normal as pin her hair and Angel felt her hands shake slightly, before dropping them hurriedly and smoothing her skirt down. “I am ready,” she replied turning towards Asher who held out his elbow for her, which she took, hands still trembling slightly as she fit against his body, her head barely reaching the top of his shoulder.
“ Then let us make way,” Asher said, staring down at her beautiful hair, a tumultuous riot of curls which she’d tried to tame, but even now, he saw soft tendrils about her face, which had escaped her bun and felt the inexplicable urge to pull the pins out, and see her hair once more waving down her back, he wanted to bury his hands into her hair, her everything and shook his head as he escorted the two behind Oswald’s chubby back and to his waiting wife.
“ Oh, my goodness,” were the first words that met Angel, as an equally small woman met them at the door of Oswald’s private dining room. “Hello, Mr. Davis, a pleasure, and this must be Ms. Barrett, which Oswald has filled my ears with, do come in, and such a beautiful young woman and from America!” She exclaimed, in a near titter as she hopped about the room, making sure everything was laid out neatly.
Asher rolled his eyes, only for Angel to see, who smiled back, before he pulled out a chair for her, seating her, his hands lingering upon the back of her seat and Angel’s breath once more seemed to have lost her.
He sat down, next to her, while Oswald and his wife, sat across from them, the table laden with enough food to feed a small army. After grace was said, the ravenous pair immediately, but politely dug into the food, it having been hours for both of them since they’d last eaten.
And through all of this, Oswald and Beatrice peppered Angel with questions about America. The Indians, the wild frontier, the strange animals, the different cities and so on.
The conversation continued well near to twelve midnight as Angel was unexpectedly having a marvelous time painting a picture of her home for these kind strangers. And during that time, she felt Asher’s eyes upon her, Asher so close to her that if she simply reached out, her hand would touch his. He kept silent for most of the conversation, oddly enough, seeming to enjoy hearing everyone else speak before deciding the hour was late enough since they had to be up so very early.
Saying their goodbyes, Beatrice escorted Angel back to her room with the promise that she would awaken her up personally at five the next morning.
Angel nodded, once again closing and locking her door, wondering if perhaps Asher would knock discreetly upon the door once the house had once again settled and knowing that if he did she would willingly open the door and tell him…what? She had no idea, but the situation seemed so romantic she giggled like a young girl before washing for bed, an hour later realizing that the good man was perhaps more than asleep and so, she herself laid upon her bed, images of Asher’s smiling face helping her drift off into a deep and
Angel felt as if she had jumped a mile in the air when she heard Oswald’s loud, animated voice, she didn’t know whether to curse or say thank you that he had interrupted the two. Angel felt like cursing. She had wanted more than anything for Asher to kiss her, to feel his warm, soft supple lips upon hers. She had to get under control.
“ Oh, yes, thank you, Mr. Oswald,” Angel said before realizing she had as of yet to freshen up. Never the mind, she hurriedly pulled her hair back in its’ bun, feeling Asher’s eyes upon her the entire time, even though she’d turned her back to him to peer into the small hanging mirror above the basin.
It felt intensely personal, him seeing her do something as normal as pin her hair and Angel felt her hands shake slightly, before dropping them hurriedly and smoothing her skirt down. “I am ready,” she replied turning towards Asher who held out his elbow for her, which she took, hands still trembling slightly as she fit against his body, her head barely reaching the top of his shoulder.
“ Then let us make way,” Asher said, staring down at her beautiful hair, a tumultuous riot of curls which she’d tried to tame, but even now, he saw soft tendrils about her face, which had escaped her bun and felt the inexplicable urge to pull the pins out, and see her hair once more waving down her back, he wanted to bury his hands into her hair, her everything and shook his head as he escorted the two behind Oswald’s chubby back and to his waiting wife.
“ Oh, my goodness,” were the first words that met Angel, as an equally small woman met them at the door of Oswald’s private dining room. “Hello, Mr. Davis, a pleasure, and this must be Ms. Barrett, which Oswald has filled my ears with, do come in, and such a beautiful young woman and from America!” She exclaimed, in a near titter as she hopped about the room, making sure everything was laid out neatly.
Asher rolled his eyes, only for Angel to see, who smiled back, before he pulled out a chair for her, seating her, his hands lingering upon the back of her seat and Angel’s breath once more seemed to have lost her.
He sat down, next to her, while Oswald and his wife, sat across from them, the table laden with enough food to feed a small army. After grace was said, the ravenous pair immediately, but politely dug into the food, it having been hours for both of them since they’d last eaten.
And through all of this, Oswald and Beatrice peppered Angel with questions about America. The Indians, the wild frontier, the strange animals, the different cities and so on.
The conversation continued well near to twelve midnight as Angel was unexpectedly having a marvelous time painting a picture of her home for these kind strangers. And during that time, she felt Asher’s eyes upon her, Asher so close to her that if she simply reached out, her hand would touch his. He kept silent for most of the conversation, oddly enough, seeming to enjoy hearing everyone else speak before deciding the hour was late enough since they had to be up so very early.
Saying their goodbyes, Beatrice escorted Angel back to her room with the promise that she would awaken her up personally at five the next morning.
Angel nodded, once again closing and locking her door, wondering if perhaps Asher would knock discreetly upon the door once the house had once again settled and knowing that if he did she would willingly open the door and tell him…what? She had no idea, but the situation seemed so romantic she giggled like a young girl before washing for bed, an hour later realizing that the good man was perhaps more than asleep and so, she herself laid upon her bed, images of Asher’s smiling face helping her drift off into a deep and
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