From HIS Point of View

by Beth Lawrence

The civil ceremony had been brief, with only a few guests to serve as witnesses, and that had served our purpose. I had no desire for the superfluous floral, frilly stresses of a traditional wedding. I am relieved that my wife was not interested in that sort of thing, either.

My WIFE. I turned from the window of our hotel room in Sussex to study her as she moved about the suite. I had thought my plight hopeless when I realised that I loved her when she was only nineteen. My reservations about her age and my lack of awareness as to her feelings kept me silent and, considering the magnitude of my affections, it is surprising that I was able to keep her at a safe distance for two more years. When she kissed me on the dock, though, all my composure crumbled, and I knew I wanted her- needed her- to be with me forever.

"Holmes?" Russell called, disturbing my thoughts. "Is everything alright? You looked as if you were somewhere else."

I smiled. "No, Russell, I am right here." I sat down and poured two glasses of superb wine. "Will you have some wine, Russ?"

"Yes, I will. One moment." She disappeared into the adjoining bedroom and returned minutes later, clad in a diaphanous white robe of the smoothest silk, tied at the waist with a matching belt. She had removed the pins from her hair, and it fell across her shoulders and down her back in golden waves. As she joined me at the table, I managed to choke out, "Russ... you look beautiful."

She smiled. "Quite a change from my jacket and trousers, eh? My feminine clothing came in quite uselful today, did it not?"

"Indeed." I held up my glass. "A toast: To Russell, who finally has me bound by law."

She laughed, and raising her own glass, replied, "To Holmes, who finally became smart enough to realise that we belong together."

We sipped our wine and fell into an uncomfortable silence. At least I felt uncomfortable; what was to come next? I was not ignorant- I knew what was expected on most wedding nights, but I had no intentions of making Russell submit to her "lawful duty" as a wife, not if she was not interested. Not able to endure the quiet any longer, I rose and went into the bedroom, removing my jacket and placing it in the closet and removing my shoes. As I placed these last items on the floor by the foot of the bed, I felt a hand on my arm. "Holmes?"

I turned to face her. "Russell?" That was all I said, because she threw her arms around me and kissed me, with as much energy as when we embraced that first time on the waterfront. Tentatively, my arms encircled her, then pulled her close; I plunged my hands into her hair, that beautiful mane of hers, and returned her kiss. At last, when we parted, I asked, "Russell, you of all people should know that I require nothing of you, no matter what the laws of marriage claim, and you may feel free to refuse me, but..."

She stopped smiling and took my hands in hers. "Yes?"

"I have not experienced physical love in many years," I said, a bit embarrassed by the admission, "but, without sounding too sentimental, I would be honored if you would- you'd-"

"Holmes, yes. Yes."

"Are you sure that you-"

"The thought is a bit daunting, but I know that I should not be safer with anyone but you. So, yes."

I smiled and kissed her palm. I closed my eyes as she kissed my lips again, then removed my shirt. I moved to untie her robbe, and she visibly flinched, as if I had lashed her. I knew at once what worried her--she was self- conscious about her scars; I had to reassure her that she need not be insecure around me. "Every inch of you is beautiful to me; it's alright," I whispered to her. Something in my voice must have set her at ease, for she moved her own hand from my shoulder and untied her robe. I reached out and slipped the gossamer fabric from her shoulders, I enveloped her in my arms and, realising she was trembling, whispered, "I promise I will never hurt you."

She shook her head against my chest. "That is not why I am shaking, Holmes."

"No?"

"No. It's anticipation. You interest me a great deal, Holmes, and I want us to be as close as possible."

I could not think of something to follow that, so I simply kissed her forehead, her earlobe, her throat, and finally, her lips. Then, to her surprise, I plucked her off her feet and placed her on the bed. As I leaned over her, she wrapped her arms around my neck and whispered, "Don't let me go."

"Never."

This act was more than just a physical one; this was my mind being matched by one whose intelligence matched mine. That my experience was greater was doubtless, but the wonderful thing was that she had plenty to teach me, just as I did her. Our minds were equal and had been since we had met. I felt extreme desire for this young woman, yes, but the mental and emotional culminations of this (something I had never experienced before) matched, if not outnumbered the physical satisfactions.

Afterwards, as we lay beside each other, I tried to put myself in Russell's place: at the age of twenty- one, newly wealthy and a recent Oxford graduate, she was married to a man more than twice her age, a man she most likely saw as a mere mentor for the longest time. We had been through triumphs and let- downs together, we had witnessed death and miraculous recoveries... would my ability to love her triumph over what she had endured in her life, or would she be driven away from me before too long?

At that moment, she leaned over me and softly answered, "I may not say it often, Holmes, but I love you, and being that close to you will never drive me away."

It was as if she had read my mind, and perhaps she had. " I love you, Russ. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Holmes."

I put my arm around her, and we slept.