Cold All the Way Through, But Warming

Paris

Our arrival in Paris was not the most elegant. We were riding in the first class car of the boat train from Cherbourg of course, but when we rolled into the station I had to be roused from where I had been drowsing against Will's shoulder and there was a slight damp spot on his coat where it appeared I had drooled. I immediately began to apologize and try to rub it dry with my handkerchief. "Will, why didn't you wake me? Oh, I'm so sorry."

"I've been exhausting you." He leaned over, kissing the top of my head. "And besides, it's hardly the worst thing to have been on my coat. What kind of husband would I be if I didn't let my wife get her sleep?"

I chuckled, shaking my head. "Still, that was hardly ladylike of me." Will kept a hand on my arm as he guided me through the train station, a porter following with Reggie and Louise, as well as the massive cart holding our trunks. I had to admit, I did like Paris, even if I couldn't understand a word of French. Will seemed to know a bit, at least enough to flag down a taxi and get us on our way to our hotel. Fortunately the staff at the hotel spoke English, especially the concierge who greeted me with a bow. "Hello, we're the Murdoch party? We should have a suite reserved, as well as rooms for our staff."

He nodded, busying himself for a moment before passing over a brass key. "Of course, Ma'am, and may I offer my personal congratulations to both of you on this happy occasion." Judging by his smile, he knew exactly why we were here. "I've seen that a bottle of champagne will be waiting for both of you in your rooms, and if you have need of anything, my staff will be more than happy to help." He gave us a brief run through of everything the hotel offered, as well as directions to our rooms. With the hotel staff seeing to the storage of our trunks, Reggie and Louise joined us in the wrought iron elevator as the operator started us up.

"Fifth floor, servants rooms are to the left." The operator intoned as he stopped the lift, "Suites are to the right. Enjoy your stay." The doors shut quickly behind us, the elevator gliding back down to the lower floors.

Will looked over to Reggie and Louise. "Take the night off, we'll be able to manage."

"Of course, sir." Reggie nodded, but he lingered. "What time should we arrive in the morning?"

"I think ten should suffice." I squeezed Will's arm. "We'll be going out that day and returning in the afternoon to prepare for the ballet."

Louise smirked at that. "I shall see that everything is prepared for tomorrow." Part of me was mortified by her teasing, as if it was a negative that I enjoyed bedding Will and wanted to engage in it as often as I could, but a larger part of me didn't care. Married people enjoyed each other in the bedroom, why should I feel shame over it? Indeed, just by Will's hand moving to my waist and pulling me a bit closer to him as we reached our room, I could feel the excitement building in me. It was never far away it seemed, the idea that Will was so enraptured by me that he could hardly contain himself.

"Ah, this is lovely." I murmured as we entered our suite, a sitting room furnished in the Louis XVI style greeted us. Everything was delicate and floral, and the promised champagne was waiting in a silver bucket of ice. Two glittering crystal flutes waited by it, and Will had them quickly filled. With flute in hand, I opened the door between two potted palms, revealing a balcony that overlooked the city. I looked over my shoulder, "Are you going to join me?"

Will grumbled as he stepped, "At least I feel like I won't break the chairs out here." He gestured to the iron furniture on the balcony. "I swear, is it such a difficulty for them to supply furniture that doesn't feel like it will fall apart if I look at it wrong?"

"You're too used to ships, my love." I sighed, looking out over the city. Paris truly was a beautiful city, with the sunlight gleaming against the Seine and the Eiffel Tower rising up in the distance. The various parks that I could see were green and blooming, people strolling along in the late afternoon sun. The streets were crowded with traffic, mothers walking hand in hand with children as they came back from the market, cars and carriages negotiating their way through and everywhere, everywhere were artists showing off their pieces to people on the street, trying to earn a bit of money for dinner. I let my eyes linger on them, "We should keep an eye out for some paintings, I'm sure we can find places for them."