Winter Winds

Slaty clouds hung low overhead, and the occasional ray of watery sunlight penetrated through the dense covering to illuminate dreary shop-fronts. Patched and frayed jackets darted between lumbering leather overcoats, and small grimy feet splashed joyfully into dirty puddles as heavy umbrellas were swept away by the wind. The chilly November air pushed and pulled at the shop keepers, while young men weighted down by bags laden with ripe produce and plunder from distant lands shivered behind their carts. Girls peeked around the curtains of their carriage windows, secretly marveling at the dripping foreign laborers as they feigned conversations of tea and weather. A bell tolled in the distance and the horses stirred restlessly, as if they knew just as well as the coachmen that they must only endure a few more hours before they could retire for the day.

Jessamine watched silently as the wonder that is London moved before her, the city breathing and bustling just beyond the rain-splattered window. Curled up on a large floor cushion with an open novel lying abandoned in her lap, she carefully observed the world around her as if it were a play, each character's actions affecting the other’s no matter how minor their roles.

"I should’ve known I'd find you back here."

Jessamine looked up with a start, blinking away her musings as the familiar male voice jarred her from her thoughts.

She quickly rose to her feet, a warm flush rising to her cheeks as Thomas shut the door behind him and came to stand beside her at the window. He stood with his hands in his pockets, a shoulder casually leaned against the glass as he watched her from beneath a mop of unruly dark hair.

“When we were younger, I would often spend hours attempting to uncover what thoughts dance through your head when you stare off into the distance like that. I used to try to read your mind; Uncle had a book on hypnosis and would often use its advice, of course to no avail.”

“You might have been more successful in your efforts had you merely asked,” Jessamine told him with a teasing smile.

She could still hear her heartbeat pounding so loud she was sure Thomas must’ve heard it, but she was glad he’d opted for a more casual topic of conversation than the dramatic professions of love she’d feared he might focus on. Thomas had never been one for serious discussion, but his disposition towards Jessamine had changed in the past few months, and she’d spent the entire carriage ride to London wondering how he would behave. Luckily he seemed to have retained his joking manner, although Jessamine did detect a hint of seriousness that she’d never noticed in his speech before.

“Yes well I was never one for taking the logical approach to an issue,” he reminded her with a smile of his own, and Jessamine did her best to control her breathing when he took a step closer to her. “But you see, I didn’t want to know your thoughts for mere curiosity’s sake. My ultimate goal was to discover how I might hold your attention the way the most mundane things do. You’ve always been so fascinated by every seemingly insignificant aspect of life; I thought that perhaps if I studied hard enough, I could become as interesting to you as a streetlamp or a tablecloth.”

Thomas had moved closer to her as he’d talked, his playful smile fading and his eyes softening as they now searched hers for an answer to the one question he would never dare ask aloud. She merely stared at him, not trusting herself to speak as she realized that after all this time, after that stolen kiss in April and the hundreds of words she’d written him sense, Thomas still was not sure that he’d succeeded in winner her love.

“Jessie, please just…at least say something,” he pleaded, his voice slightly tinged with that nearly paralyzing fear of rejection she knew had plagued him from the moment he’d first confessed his feelings.

Although they’d spent nearly all of their time together as children, Thomas still often allowed the lies spewed by popular society to cloud his thinking and destroy his self-esteem; despite her constant assurances to the contrary, Thomas still seemed to believe that Jessamine’s wealth and status did in fact make her superior to him. Even when he’d first informed her of his affections he’d spoken as a boy who feared his favorite bird would fly away and never return the moment he opened the cage door.

“You aren’t mundane, Thomas, and neither are the simple objects that capture my attention” she finally told him with a slightly frustrated huff as she lifted a hand to his face. She was momentarily distracted by the warmth of his clean shaven cheek beneath her thin white glove as he leaned into her palm.

“You are…well, you are magnificent,” she said, a smile involuntarily breaking across her face as she watched relief flood across his face. “You may not have power or money or status, but I have yet to meet any holder of those qualities who has not masked his intentions with lies and secrets. You may not be made of gold Thomas, but you are honest, and I would prefer you over gilded wealth any day.”

Jessamine’s heart beat quickened when she felt his hand unexpectedly press against the small of her back, pulling her closer to him. Thomas leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers as his heavy breaths puffed against her face.

“I’ve spent years craving the sound of those words on your lips, Jessie,” he told her, the childhood nickname taking on new meaning as he heaved the word like a desperate prayer.

“All you had to do was ask,” she reminded him, impulsively reaching up to trail her fingers along the curve of his lips as she stared up into uncharacteristically serious gaze. It was strange, hearing him speak with such determined conviction, but Jessamine couldn’t’ say she found this unfamiliar side of Thomas unpleasant. In fact, it was almost as if his change in tone had inspired a new courage within her as well, awakening a strange new energy she’d never before experienced.

Jessamine felt as if they’d left London far behind and entered an entirely new realm of existence as she realized she was actually touching the very mouth that had played the main role in her countless fantasies over the years. Thomas was in fact mere centimeters away from her now, no longer an elusive character in the fevered dreams that had plagued her imagination every night since that first kiss in April.

“Thomas,” she began, not entirely sure what she’d intended to say as she continued to graze her fingers over his mouth. Her words faded into the heavy silence, and Thomas kept his gaze focused on hers as he reached up and lightly wrapped his fingers around her wrist, gently pulling her hand from his face. He laced his fingers through hers, his hand on her back pressing them closer as he closed the space between them with a kiss.

Their kisses began as quiet, hesitant things, but months of separation and years of suppressed passion quickly overpowered both Jessamine and Thomas’ shyness. She found her hands tangled in his hair, his chest hot against hers, and the cold glass of the window pressed into her back.

Jessamine was surprised by the pleasant fuzziness that clouded her mind, the fierce pounding of her heart, and Thomas’ eager reactions to the various improper sounds that escaped her mouth.
As she reluctantly pried his arm from around her waist some fifteen minutes later, Jessamine found it incredibly hard to resist his pleas for her to stay with him just a little while longer.

“Thomas, you know I can’t.” Her words fell on deaf ears as she removed his hand from beneath her skirt and he tried to assure her that their secret would be safe in the back room of his uncle’s bookshop.

Slipping back into her stockings, Jessamine allowed herself the guilty pleasure of taking in the sight of the bare-chested, gorgeous young man she’d pined over for years. It was hard to believe that this was the same scrawny boy she and Mary had spent countless afternoons with in this very same room, reading tales of adventure and teasing each other endlessly.

“Just say Mary wouldn’t let you leave before you discussed your opinions of the Bradshaw boy and had another cup,” he suggested. Although Thomas had only ever seen Jessamine’s mother once, it was common knowledge that Mrs. Whitaker adored Mary, and that any lie involving the slightest hint of Jessamine’s possible betrothal was sure to dupe her.

“That won’t work this time. Mother hardly even agreed to let me out for what she thought was tea with Mary today, so arriving late for dinner is out of the question.” Jessamine tried her best to ignore Thomas’ overly dramatic sigh as she pulled her blond curls back into a bun at the nape of her neck and gazed up through the window at the darkening murky sky. The clouds had finally retreated and the rain had ceased, and the light emitted from the gas lamps took the form of orange orbs suspended in the thick haze. The streets had cleared considerably, and carriages were scarce as vendors stored their supplies for the evening and shoppers made their way home.

“I don’t want Mother angry with me on my first day back,” Jessamine added. As Thomas’s arms wrapped around her from behind, Jessamine confirmed her suspicion that he still hadn’t grown out of his stubborn determination to get his way in any situation. She watched his reflection in the dark glass, his face uncharacteristically unguarded as he stared at her with those brilliantly blue eyes.
“Then tell her that you were here, with me,” he whispered a moment later, his breath warm on her neck. She forced herself to remember Sister Abigail’s advice on resisting temptation as she felt the pads of his fingers gently stroke her bare arms.

“You know I can’t do that, Tom,” Jessamine huffed. She wondered not for the first time why she hadn’t foreseen the constant frustrations that came along with continuing a relationship society would deem less than proper. “She would never let me leave the house again if she knew I didn’t break off our friendship when we were thirteen. And she’d probably ship me off to another Irish convent if she discovered what our ‘friendship’ has escalated to since April. I would never see you again.”

“And how often do you think you’ll see me once you’re married to some German aristocrat and are living in a Dutch manor house?” He asked snidely, his blue eyes flashing. The Thomas she was used to was finally beginning to emerge from beneath the mask of a romantic he’d been hiding behind for months.

“Tom…” she began, not wanting to slip into the debate that had begun shortly after she’d left London and had been the subject of countless letters during her absence.

“I’m just afraid,” he added after a long silence, his voice cracking on the last word. The lack of sarcasm in his tone unsettled her, and it was suddenly clear to Jessamine that it had, indeed, been Thomas who’d written those short serenading poems at the end of his last few letters; perhaps the romantic Thomas wasn’t the mask at all. “Afraid of the day you meet that attractive, intelligent, gallant, young suitor who will steal your heart with promises of an elegant life I could never give you.”
Jessamine turned to face him, her arms crossed tight over her chest even as she fought back unexpected tears at his painfully honest fears voiced aloud.

“Tom, you must believe me when I tell you that you have no reason to fear that I would ever abandon you. I cannot…I cannot conceive of a life without you,” she insisted, her voice tight with tears as she willed him to understand just how much she needed him. He was the only boy she’d ever trusted, the only one whose affections she’d ever desired, and to lose his love would be to lose everything remotely pleasant in her life.

She let out a noise painfully akin to a sob as Thomas pulled her back into him, kissing her with the same tenderness that had so enamored her on that first night in April. Jessamine struggled not to push aside the demands of her mother to make room for wants of her own as his kisses increased in desperation. “Jessie, please don’t leave me again,” he panted, and she fought to retain control of her thoughts of returning home as they slid from her grasp.

“I’ll come back,” she finally choked out, taking a deep breath before pushing him away. “I wouldn’t leave you, Tom, not for the world,” she whispered as she swiped tears from her face, and she scrambled into her shoes before hurrying out the door.