They were moved in.

Finally.

Lord Robert had been good enough to grant both of them a weekend to get straight, and the other servants had been keen to help in what ways they could.

Mrs Hughes had cleaned out the servants linen cupboard and sent down a set of sheets, some old curtains and some worn but still usable blankets.

Mr Carson likewise had a rummage in his store cupboard and unearthed an incomplete set of cutlery long since forgotten and of no use to the house, but plentiful in its supply of knives, forks and teaspoons for the Bates. There was also a toast rack, some mismatched plates and a small brown teapot.

The kitchen staff had been fantastic, with Mrs Patmore digging out an old kettle and assortment of pots and pans for their kitchen and, just when John and Anna were about to drop with exhaustion, Daisy had arrived late in the afternoon on the Sunday, with Alfred trailing behind her with a wheel barrow. It was stuffed to the brim with delights, including a casserole dish of hot savoury stew, a selection of pots of jellies, jams, chutney and marmalade, a pot of butter, a small caddy of tea and a loaf of new bread to help them set up their larder. With a pint of milk from the local dairy they were set all set for both supper and their very first breakfast.

"No need to send the dish back, Mrs Patmore says," chirped Daisy, "it's a bit small for what she needs, so keep it yourselves. We'll see you after breakfast." In a flash she was gone, chivvying Alfred out of the door.

Anna beamed as she looked around her very first home. Gripping John's hand, she turned to him and almost squeaked with delight.

"We did it!"

John gazed down at her fondly. "We did. All that's left now is our own possessions. I can walk back for them if you like."

"No, I'll go," Anna was already reaching for her scarf. Before John could protest, she pointed him towards the kitchen. "I'll be faster. If you stay here and get the kettle on and table set, we can have supper when I get back. Pop that stew in the oven to keep warm."

Bates, like all wise husbands, did as he was told and settled down to wait for the return of his wife.

...

Mrs Hughes had been busy on their behalf when Anna arrived back at the house.

"Are you all settled then? Or as near as you can be for starting out?"

"I think so," replied Anna. "We've got what we need, it's now just a case of building up what bits and pieces we want."

"I took the liberty of having all your things packed up for you," smiled the older woman. "You didn't have that much between you, so it was no bother. I hope that you will be putting down roots where you land now."

"I hope so too, Mrs Hughes."

Anna reached to pick up the two carryalls with all their wordly possessions.

"Anna...?"

"Hmm?"

Mrs Hughes was holding an extra parcel, wrapped in muslin. "I found this, in the bottom drawer. It was somewhat crumpled, but I took the liberty of having it laundered and pressed. With the greatest care of course. I didn't want to pack it in case it got wrinkled up again."

She handed it over to Anna, who peaked inside.

"I have a feeling you may be wanting it tonight."

There was the slightest twinkle in the housekeeper's eye as Anna looked back up at her. The good lady didn't know about their stolen night together just prior to Mr Bates arrest, bless her. She looked upon this as their true wedding night, their first night in their new home.

"Thank you Mrs Hughes."

"Go on now. Be off with you. That husband of yours will be wondering what's keeping you, and I wouldn't want him to think it was me!"

Gratefully, bags and package in hand, Anna did just that.

For once in their lives, everything was right. The little fire in their hearth crackled and spit with loving enthusiasm, the stew was hot and tasty, the tea brewed just to suit any Yorkshire lass. Anna sighed, stretching out and toeing off her shoes.

"Are you happy, love?"

John sat across from her, finishing his tea and mopping the last of his stew with a crust of bread.

"Wonderfully so," she grinned, reaching across the table to take his hand.

"To be able to do this, without fear of censure or reprimand, is such a wonderful thing."

John squeezed her hand.

"When I was... away, I used to picture this night. On days when I was more hopeful. After one of your letters or visits, or when Murray had some news for me."

"Has it been as you dreamed?"

"Better."

Their little carriage clock, a present from Lady Mary, chimed the hour.

"Bedtime?"

John's eyes were alive, sparkling. Anna's stomach turned over, overflowing with pleasant memories and anticipation.

"You go up. I'll wash up and be right behind you."

As John turned to smile at her, heading upstairs to their room, he playfully wagged a finger at her. "Don't take too long, Mrs Bates!"

A frission of pleasure ran through Anna as he winked at her. Once he was gone, hurried to the stove to scoop out a cup of hot water, setting the plates to steep for the night. She washed her hands, regretting the lack of fancy soap this time, but sure in the knowledge that John wouldn't mind. She quickly rummaged out the parcel Mrs Hughes had given her, pulled it open and removed her embroidered night dress. Making sure the curtains were closed, she slipped out of her dress and pulled it over her head. Smiling around at her little house, she tripped lightly upstairs.

John's smile when she can into the room was everything she could have wished for.

"This brings back memories..."

"I hoped it would."

Sat on one side of the bed, John had undressed down to his trousers and undershirt.

"Less buttons for me to battle with this time," Anna teased, as she settled next to him. John took her hand, kissing just behind her wedding ring.

"I've a surprise for you too."

"Oh?"

Reaching into his bag, he pulled out an envelope and passed it to Anna. Opening it, she recognised her own letters, the ones she had sent to him in prison.

"You kept all of them?"

John smiled, his eyes unusually bright.

"Take a closer look."

Anna pulled out the first to find that all of the spaces around the edge of her words had been covered in drawings. Sometimes in pencil, other times in pen. Of roses.

"You did these?"

John ducked his head and shrugged.

"I had to practice for a while. I used the envelopes for that. But when I thought of you, of us, and our lives together, I thought of roses. Because roses..."

"...always make you think of home." Anna was stunned, a tear leaking from the corner of her eye. What had she ever done in life to deserve this man?

"Now... I couldn't stitch. I can mend, but nothing like this..." John traced a finger around the neckline of her nightdress, over the roses and vines she had so patiently and painstakingly stitched into the fabric. "But when I drew them, I could picture you... in this...and hope that I would come back to you again."

"Oh John..."

Turning towards him, Anna reached for him just as he pulled her into his arms for a deep and long kiss. The sort the had both ached for since he walked out of that stone doorway into the dawn light outside of York prison, to be greeted by the woman who had worked and tried for years to get him out of there. The sort of kiss where they both emerged breathless, stunned and aching for more.

"Oh my love, how I have missed you..."

"You too..."

"Do you want to...?"

"Oh yes!"

In a flurry of limbs and kisses, they tumbled back into bed, their own bed, kissing and stroking, unable to have enough of each other. Laid flat, John pulled Anna up above him, gazing up at her as she smiled down at him.

"You look different from up here," she said softly, stroking her hands over his face. The gentleness of her touch stirred John's blood, his longing to feel her hands over the rest of him.

Reaching up, he tugged gently at the binds holding back her hair.

"May I?"

Anna smiled, reaching up to unpin it properly, leaning over to place the pins out of harm's way. Her thick waves of hair tumbled down over her shoulders and back, golden in the candlelight. Wordless, John reached up to stroke his fingers through her hair, marvelling at the way Anna sighed and relaxed into his touch. Drawing her down to him, he kissed her again, teasing at her lips with his tongue, his other arm snaking around her waist to pull her closer into him.

Anna's sweet weight on his chest was heavenly. His tiny little wife could render him all but powerless with the slightest of touches. Her nimble fingers tugged at the hem of his undershirt, working it up over his head. Tossing it to one side, she ran her fingers gently through the fur that covered his chest and shoulders.

John sighed, his eyes closing with pleasure. Any minute now he would wake up, any second he would be back in that prison cell, this was too good to be true.

"You like this?"

"Oh yes..."

"What else do you like?"

His eyes snapped open. Anna was gazing down at him, that adorable nervous look back in her eyes.

"Everything."

"Seriously, John..."

"I am being serious." He sat up, perching her between his knees, his hands playing with her waist. "Truly Anna, I love how you touch me, I love that you WANT to touch me. You're so soft, so gentle, and very little in my life has been soft, or gentle, or wanting towards me."

Pulling her closer against him, John ran his hands down Anna's back, wrapping her close against him. The curve of her chest against his was exquisite, the taste of her lips magical. Anna moved to kiss along the side of his neck, her lips leaving a trail of burning caresses down to his shoulder.

"What about this?"

"Oh my, you little minx, you will be my undoing."

"Oh I do hope so," she teased against him with her tongue.

John growled, seizing her waist and tipping her sideways onto the bed, eliciting a delighted shriek. Pinning her beneath him, with one hand he teased open the ribbon around her neckline, loosening the gown around her neck and shoulders.

"Two can play at that game, dear one..."

Bending down he began a trail of kisses, from the side of her neck towards the sweetheart neckline above her chest. Anna writhed and moaned softly beneath him, every move of her body driving him wilder with desire. How long had it been since their wedding night...? Far too long, that's how long.

"I love the way you kiss me," she whispered.

John pulled back from her, his eyes and breath hot with longing for her. But they had all night, all sweet night, to find each other again.

"I love to kiss you," he breathed, his lips teasing a path down over her nightdress to teethe at her nipples through the soft material. A small mewl of pleasure slipped from Anna's lips. "I'd love to kiss more of you..."

John glanced up at her, tracing his tongue over her nipple. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes as bright as his. "I think I'd like that," she whispered.

Sliding down towards the end of the bed, John gently pushed the hem of her nightdress up, moving her legs apart.

"John, what are you... oh!"

Anna gasped as his lips and tongue began tracing a path up the inside of her thighs, beginning at her knees. Hot darts of pleasure shot through her veins as he moved higher, her legs parting on instinct. Her eyes closed, as she lost herself in his touch. His thumbs ran a gentle line around the tops of her thighs as his kisses stopped. Anna moaned at the loss of his touch, wanting more, not knowing what to ask for.

"Did you like that, my darling?"

"Oh yes..."

"Do you want more?"

How did he know?

"I think so..."

"Just trust me, and tell me if you don't like it."

Using his thumbs, ever so gently, John parted the soft folds of her flesh, gazing upon his wife's sex, glistening with heat for him. He wet his lips, trembling slightly, hoping that she would enjoy what he was about to do for her.

Anna shrieked with delight as his tongue ran over the delicate bud of nerves at the centre of her. He stopped briefly, worried that she hadn't wanted this.

"No...please... don't stop..."

No man could have resisted such an eager invitation. Lapping gently at her, he relished every moan, every twist as her body responded to his intimate caresses. Teasing his tongue into her, he groaned inwardly as she panted, aching her back, allowing him deeper into her. Sliding first one finger into her, then two, continuing his ministrations with her tongue, he ached inside with every hot, harsh breath that fell from his wife's lips, as she panted, her pleasure rising until she called out his name, climaxing beneath one final slow lick.

"Oh... oh John... that was..."

"Shhhh..."

Gently he gathered her to him, holding her in his arms as she floated back down to earth.

Her eyes opened, looking up at him, sighing with pleasure, her breath still rising and falling.

"I feel... so wanton..." her smile was so endearing, lost as she was in the aftermath of her own pleasure.

John stroked his hand over her hair, ignoring the screaming in his own blood for her. No need to rush.

"You look so beautiful Anna..."

She bit her lip, wrinkling her nose and smiling shyly at the compliment.

"And you are so handsome..."

Bates scoffed.

"But you are..."

"Only to you."

"It's only me that matters..."

Anna's hands, resting peaceably on his chest, began to slide downwards.

"I don't think it's fair that you've got me half naked and you're still dressed," she teased, slipping open his trousers. Before John could protest, she'd opened them and pushed them down, kicking them off with her own feet.

Sliding her hand down further, Anna grew braver, stroking her fingers over his underwear to tease at his own sex.

"Anna... oh!"

John gasped at the sensation of his wife's dainty fingers sliding around him, teasing against him. Her touch on any part of him was exquisite, but this was beyond words.

"Do you like that?"

"Very much, oh so much..."

"What about this?"

Anna slipped her hand inside the fabric, to tease and stroke against him. John shuddered, groaned, praying that his will power would hold out. After a few seconds he seized her wrist gently.

"Was I too rough?"

Oh far from it.

"Anna, my sweet, I have a self control that you could build strong towers around, but your touch makes me melt..."

"There's no need to wait, John..."

There were two seconds where he tried to, before his longing for her crashed through his veins.

Shucking out of his remaining clothes, he rolled onto his back and pulled Anna above him, to sit astride his waist. Anna was confused.

"Shouldn't I be...?"

"I know that's how we did it last time... the first time..."

"There are other ways?"

Again, something in Anna's innocence touched him to the core and John found himself thankful beyond measure that it was he who had been given the chance to show and teach this beautiful woman all of the joys of love. How could he ever have pushed her away from him?

"There are many, my love, this is just one more."

Anna moved to remove her nightdress, but John caught her hands. "Leave it on. This is one of the advantages of this way. I can see you, all of you..."

Moving the gown up to her waist, John steadied her as she positioned herself, showing her how to ease him into her. She gasped, her eyes fluttering shut with pleasure as she slid down onto his loins.

Looking up at her as she moved gently above him, John was never more certain in his life that he had married a Goddess, an angel fallen to earth by mistake. This moment, with the gold lights of her hair, the movements of her trim firm body, along with the way she moved against him so wonderfully, were an image he would hold close and treasure through the rest of his life.

Gritting his teeth, he waited, held on, determined that he would see her rise in pleasure before him once more. As Anna's face flushed and her fingers tangled in her own hair, she caught her breath, gasping and moaning, higher and faster. Just as she called out again, John felt a wave of pleasure crash though him, bowling him over the edge into an abyss of pleasure.

All his long held dreams, deepest fantasies that he had clung to in prison, all his wishes of a reunion with his wife had been nothing to this. He had been blessed.

Settling into his arms beside him, Anna murmured sleepily, as the screaming in her blood dimmed down to a pleasurable hum.

"John...?"

"Hmmm?"

"I think I like that way better..."

In seconds she was asleep as John lay for a moment, thankful beyond measure for the treasures in his life, before leaning over to blow out the candle and rest in the darkness with his wife safe in his arms.