This is the first fic I've ever published - be kind!

The day so far existed only as a jumble of sensations, the rest a muddled, distant blur between them. The steady rhythm of someone else fastening her stays for the first time in decades as Anna helped her dress; the warmth of his fingers as he took her hand to slide on the ring; the loving, surprising pressure of his lips on hers as the sun's glow touched her face outside the church; the fondness of his gaze - which she could feel in her body, even though he wasn't actually touching her - as the Earl and Countess congratulated them on their way into the schoolhouse; the devotion that radiated from him during his toast. She knew, especially after the to-do with Mrs Patmore, how he felt. She just never thought he would express it so openly, and surely not in front of other people.

Now his hand was hovering at the small of her back as she said goodbye to Miss Baxter and Mr Moseley, then it was grasping hers as he helped her into the waiting car, hired specially to take them the first part of their journey as a wedded couple. She accepted his assistance, at the same time thinking how unnecessary it was - she'd been getting in and out of things unassisted for a long time now - but he seemed unable to stop himself. That thought made her feel warm in a completely different way than she had when his ungloved palm had pushed the drape of her coat flush against her spine. She shuffled across the seat to make room for him, but before she could get all the way to the opposite window, he was in the car with her, settling himself back against the seat and reaching for her hand again to prevent her getting too far away from him.

She acquiesced to the unspoken request in his grasp and let the fabric of her dress slide against his thigh as she moved to rest back against the seat. For a second, she was completely absorbed in his movements, as he brought their joined hands to rest in his lap and covered hers with another great paw as if to keep it safe. She felt a lump begin in her throat, and looked up at his face. In doing so, she caught sight through the window of all their guests assembled outside the schoolhouse to wave them off, and she was suddenly aware of the world beyond his touch again. He was looking out of the car window away from her, nodding his farewells to Lady Mary and his lordship. She raised her free hand in response to Mrs Patmore's fluttering handkerchief, and then the driver released the brake and the car set off down the road, away from the village.

He was still looking out of the window, and she suddenly felt uneasy. What time was it? Would they catch their train? Perhaps it had been madness to try and get to their little hotel in Scarborough the same day as the service - a whim borne out of a wild romantic notion of wanting the honeymoon to start as soon as they left the wedding breakfast, rather than the more practical and prosaic idea of staying at the house or their new cottage for the first night, then sedately setting out on their trip the following morning. It had been selfish of her to want this, to want his attention only on her from the moment the festivities had concluded. She had been convinced that if they had stayed in their everyday surroundings for one more night, the shiny thrill of their new roles would have been tarnished by the familiarity of the routine, the people. But this way, she fretted, they would miss their train and either have to waste money on an inn in York or drive back to the house and spend a humiliatingly unplanned evening in their usual places anyway.

Her worries were interrupted by one of his hands releasing hers and digging in his waistcoat pocket for his watch. He flicked it open and spoke for the first time since they had left the schoolhouse. "There's plenty of time until our train," he said, keeping his voice gentle and quiet so it was clear that his words were only for her, not the driver. "In fact, we'll have to stand about on the platform for a few minutes." She leaned her shoulder against his in gratitude. He had read her silent concerns on her face, and with his customary professional anticipation, had skipped straight to providing her with the reassurance she needed, rather than bothering with any "tell me what troubles you, my dear" rigmarole. (In her head, he already called her "my dear", although apart from during the service he still had yet to utter her first name, let alone any sort of endearment.)

She let out a soft sigh. In the months since his proposal and her eventual acceptance of his apparent desire for her, they had probably touched fewer times in total than they had in the past couple of hours. Contemplating whether she dared lay her cheek against his shoulder as well as letting her arm press up against his, she wondered why she had been so afraid of being close to him. After so many decades of untouched independence, it was surprising and a bit disconcerting to have so much contact with anyone else. But it was also extremely pleasant to choose to give that enforced loneliness up, and she found herself wondering what it would feel like if he wasn't wearing his jacket, and there was only the thin fabric of his shirt between her and his skin. He put his watch back in his pocket and returned his hand to rest atop hers. Feeling emboldened by this, she gently tilted her head - careful not to let her hat catch him - and rested her cheek on his shoulder. He hummed ever so slightly, and tightened his grip on her hand, which she took to mean that he didn't mind her new posture.

The chauffeur glanced briefly in the mirror, and saw the newlywed couple sitting over to one side of the backseat, pressed up against each other, her head on his shoulder and their hands clasped tightly in his lap. Her eyes were closed and she was smiling, while her new husband was looking fixedly ahead, as if terrified that the merest glance in her direction would fright her and send her sliding over to the other side of the car. Tightening his grip on the wheel, the driver chuckled inwardly and stepped slightly more firmly on the pedal, speeding them along the road to York.