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XIII

"And isn't it just so pretty to think all along there was some invisible string tying you to me?" Taylor Swift, Invisible String

----

XIII.

As Cressie looked up into the crystal blue eyes of Jem Denham, there could be no contradicting what she saw there. It was an intensity that she could scarcely describe and could certainly no longer deny.

What she saw was great feeling, and Cressie could be certain of this because she felt it, too. She felt it immensely, suddenly, all at once, and perhaps, all this time.

It was immediately overwhelming to become awash with such attachment to the young man sat in front of her. It was almost enough to distract from the fact that Cressie had not pieced together Jem's own regard for her.

The man had proposed last November, Cressie!

Cressie gasped. She could see it all in his eyes, his beautiful ocean eyes. Oh, the ocean! He had remembered and he had tried to give it to her that very day. Oh, oh!

Was it love? Cressie didn't know what love was supposed to feel like, but was it this? She ... she wanted to be closer to him, to hold his hand as he had held hers in the carriage. But there was more, she wanted more. She wanted his smiles and laughs, she wanted them all. Suddenly the thought of the Season and all the other pretty ladies spinning in their skirts became unbearable. She wanted to hear everything Jem had to say and more. Cressie wanted to ask him so many questions that she promptly forgot them all. And she wanted to tell him everything in return. She wanted Jem's questions, and she wanted to share her heart as she had been during their day.

Jem had proposed last November. The thought circled her mind uncontrollably, and it made her wonder, hope, if he loved her, too. Cressie thought it was love. She hoped it was. Because it felt wonderful and terrifying and confusing all at once.

Cressie could not imagine binding herself to a keeper. The very thought of being kept sounded abhorrent to her. And Jem had said it himself. She ought to find a partner. Was that what he would be? Did he wonder this himself?

"You look as though you have sucked on a lemon," Jem murmured, a bashful tone in his voice. "I hope I was not too presumptuous, but I fear I have been. I have taken far too many liberties today already."

Cressie seemed to stumble over her own tongue as she realised Jem thought that she was reacting poorly to his last statement. What on earth would he think if he could read her mind in this very moment? Certainly, he would think that Cressie was half mad for how fast her mind was racing.

"No!" she nearly shouted. Cressie scrambled onto her knees, collecting her damp hems as she did, which only served as a reminder of Jem's regard. "I ... Mama brought me to London to find a husband ... I know I must marry," she rambled, "and I do not want to be wed to someone horrid ... I know Mama wants me to be happy and to find happiness ..." Cressie's words began to blend together as her nerves affected her tongue. She did not have any idea how her thoughts were becoming words, and she felt as though she had no control over what she was saying. "She would approve, wouldn't she? If she knew I was happy? I feel like I would be ... I feel everything ... I think this is how one is supposed to feel. Do you? I ... I would ... I think you do ... and I cannot fathom ... me! Who am I? I ..." Cressie huffed, "... I fantasise about oceans and would rather have a laugh than participate in stuffy conversation and I find running a far more efficient method of getting from one place to another and I think I love you, Jem Denham, and I quite enjoy food Mama thinks is 'peasant food' and I –"

Jem clapped a hand over Cressie's mouth, stifling anymore of her nonsense. As she had rambled, she had looked away from him, but his action brought her gaze back to his. Jem's lips were clamped shut as an impossibly gleeful smile filled the bottom half of his face. His cheeks were flushed completely red, but Cressie did not think that Jem had ever looked happier.

Jem exhaled shakily before his lips parted, his smile only growing. "In a moment, I am going to take my hand away, and I want you take a breath, and say that again."

Jem gently removed his hand, and Cressie forced herself to take in a deep breath. Her lungs suddenly felt like shallow pockets as her rapid and thundering heart took up all the room in her chest.

"I ... I like peasant food," she whispered. "Mutton pies are delicious when prepared correctly."

It wasn't cowardly. It was calculated. Cressie wanted to make Jem laugh because she loved the sound. It was startling how easily that word was coming to her now.

But she had been right. A laugh had ripped through Jem's chest and he fell forwards onto his hands. As he did this, the sun caught his dark hair, and it appeared almost chestnut in the light. Cressie thought that she could even see some undertones of red. It was as though her eyes were anxious to notice and memorise everything all at once.

"I think love is what it is," Cressie murmured. "I think that's what it might have been all along. I love you, Jem."

Jem's laughs quietened as his blissful smile returned, his eyes boring into hers. "I can't believe it," he breathed.

Neither could Cressie, and yet she felt it with more conviction with every passing second.

"I think I have been in some form of love with you since the moment I saw you," Jem confessed sincerely. "But since being granted these moments, this time with you, while we have been in London, I have known it." Jem took in a shaky breath. "Lord, I am terrified I might wake up in a moment and this will have all been a trick my mind is playing on me."

In hearing his words, Cressie felt a warmth that wrapped around her in an intoxicating, consuming fashion. And yet, it all seemed so obvious all of a sudden, as though she had sudden put on spectacles for the first time. How blind and oblivious had she been?

"It's not a dream," Cressie replied, returning her own joyous smile. She reached forward and lightly pinched the skin on the back of Jem's hand to prove it.

Jem was quick to capture her hand in his, immediately interlacing their fingers together. He then slowly brought her hand to his lips, and he kissed her palm gently, his eyes never leaving hers.

Cressie's heart quickened even more, if that were even possible, and her breath caught in her throat. She felt his kiss on her skin for several seconds.

"This is what it is, isn't it?" Cressie whispered, her voice crackly with nerves. "This is what it feels like?"

Jem knew exactly what she was meaning to say. "I believe so," he whispered back, nodding his head. "I have never loved anyone else, so I have nothing to compare it to. But I do know I never want to feel this way towards anyone else. Ever."

A stupid smile twisted Cressie's lips as she felt her cheeks flush crimson. But as soon as he had spoken the words, Cressie could only agree with him. The very idea of being so swept up in feeling for another seemed wrong. How could she ever feel this way for someone else? She didn't want to.

"I can't believe that you are looking at me like that," Jem uttered.

"Like what?"

"Like they do," Jem said simply. "I've seen the way my sisters look at their husbands for years now ..." Jem shook his head in disbelief. "I never thought I would ... I never thought someone like you could ..." Jem trailed off, but his eyes never wavered, searching her, memorising her, taking in everything.

"Do they look at their husbands the way you are looking at me?" Cressie wondered.

"I think I can confidently say 'yes'," he chuckled, nodding.

Yes. The word rung in her ears as she was once again reminded of the Winter Assembly back in Ashwood. What might have changed had she said 'yes' on that night? Would they have been married by now?

Cressie had always imagined her marriage to be an affair of manners and properness and suffocation. A life sentence, really. But the idea of marriage to Jem had quickly begun to eclipse that vision. There would be laughing and silliness and love. She had a vision in her mind of Jem twirling her in dance before a hearth. It was happiness, something she had so long been denied. It was as though she could reach out and grab it if she wanted to.

"Tell me what you are thinking. I have to know what thought has brought that smile to your face."

Cressie wouldn't lie. "I am wondering what our life might have been like had I accepted your original proposal," she confessed.

Jem grinned devilishly. "Whoever would have thought panic proposing would be the way to win over the Cressida Martin?"

Panic proposing, was it? "Hush," she commanded. "I am not the anything. Really, I am of no importance." Cressie had not meant her words to sound as though she was searching for assurance. She meant them in all sincerity. She knew that she was not special or important in any way. She could not save a life, nor contribute in any way to academia. She would be forgotten when she was gone from this world. She was just a girl.

"I beg to differ," Jem countered softly. "You are completely important to me."

Cressie was just a girl, she thought again, and it was enough for her to be important to one man. Smiling, she repeated, "Panic proposing? Is that what you call it?"

"I believe so," confirmed Jem. "When one proposes instead of converses like a normal person, I think the label fits." He rolled his eyes at himself. "But I don't regret it. I feel like my own tomfoolery and wayward tongue have brought me here."

Cressie smirked. "Certainly," she agreed. And she could not have been gladder for it.

Jem's eyes quickly flicked to their surroundings for a brief moment. "Will you allow me to take one final liberty today?"

Before Cressie could ask what he meant by that, she realised. Jem had checked their surroundings for onlookers, and once he had seen that nobody was paying attention to them, he edged closer to her.

He began slowly, testing her, testing her tolerance and her conviction. When she did not move away, he drew even nearer.

Cressie was frozen, completely unsure of what to do. She had never done this before. What did she need to do? Did she need to move closer as well? What was she supposed to do with her hands?

"Stop thinking," Jem whispered. He was so close to her now that his words brushed over her face. "Close your eyes."

Cressie obeyed, finding that she was grateful for the instruction, even if she was still unsure of what to do with her hands. She sat them in her lap so that they did not flop at her sides.

A few moments after her eyes closed, Cressie felt a warm pressure upon her mouth. She smiled uncontrollably, and she felt Jem's lips upturn as well. She was kissing. They were kissing. This was kissing!

Her instinct seemed to take over as she mimicked what she felt, pressing her lips to Jem's just as tenderly as he did hers. She felt his hand cup the back of her neck and she was suddenly aware of the goose pimples there, but she was too swept up in the moment to feel embarrassed by them.

All too quickly, it was over, and her eyes fluttered open. Jem was still very close to her, and he looked exactly like she felt.

"I've never done that before," she confessed almost dreamily.

Jem chuckled. "I have never done that before, either."

"You are very good at it."

Jem's cheeks flushed perhaps the same colour of her own as they looked upon the other. "So are you."

"I didn't know what to do with my hands." Cressie turned them over in her lap.

"Put them in mine." Jem turned over his own palms and Cressie grinned as she rested her hands flat against them, enjoying the contrast in their sizes.

"Are you going to panic propose to me again as a birthday gift?"

Jem immediately closed his hands around Cressie's, holding them in his grip. "I'd like to think I've become a little more articulate since November," he chuckled. "But I ought to do it right, shouldn't I? Ask permission? I know your mother expects more, and I certainly wish I was more, but –"

"You are important to me just as you are," Cressie said fervently, interrupting him. "And Mama will see that. I know she will."

----

Hope you enjoyed it!!

I hope everyone relived their first kisses with this just as I did. What did we do with our hands? Do I tilt? What if our noses crash together?

But I do sincerely hope you felt a little happiness and peace here today after what has happened this week. TW.

We're all watching in shock, and I can't even fathom what the families and the community of Uvalde are going through. 

As a teacher, I can confidently say I would make the same choice for my kids were I ever in their position. But in a country like mine with strict safety laws, I know I never will have to make that choice. And I know I am lucky.

I can't stop thinking about those brave teachers and the beautiful innocent babies. I was in my classroom with my kids on Friday thinking how they never have to be afraid, and then wondering how on earth some people can be satisfied that children and teachers (and people in shopping malls and churches and any other crowded space) have to wonder and be afraid that something terrible might happen.

I don't get political often, and you're free to disagree with me, but this one hits close to home. I'm out in the playground on duty on Friday and looking at our own fourth grade kids playing on the football field and that's what those kiddos ought to have been doing. 

I sincerely hope that the powers that be in the US take a look at themselves, and then take a look at what Australia, New Zealand, the UK, and a heap of other countries have done to make sure their citizens can walk into a school or a shopping mall or a church or anywhere, and be safe.

Be safe out there, friends. I'm thinking of you x

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