Thank you so much to all my readers, who have stuck with me on this long path! This chapter is moderately NSFW - enjoy!

April 1919

How Anna had made it through the whole day without embarrassing herself, she didn't know. Not only was she sore in a number of interesting new places that reminded her with practically every movement of last night's activities, she also kept remembering bits and pieces of those activities at all the wrong times and having to shake herself out of thoughts that were half memory and half fantasy.

What an unbelievable night. She had had high expectations of what it would be like to be truly man and wife, but even those had been exceeded by the pleasure and the joy she had felt in Mr. Bates's—John's—arms.

She'd caught his eye at every possible moment that she could all day, and she knew by the warmth there, the intensity, that he was remembering with an equal amount of pleasure. Somewhere in a dark place in her heart the last doubt was put at rest, the last ember of jealousy. Whatever Vera had been to him, in bed and out, Anna could be more. She knew that now, with every fiber of her being.

But as the night drew closer, the euphoria of the day, of their marriage and their marriage bed, started to fade, as Anna had to face the stark reality where they were still thought to be unmarried, still housed in lonely beds in separate rooms, with a locked door between them. What if she asked Lady Mary for the use of the room again, she thought wildly. Or went to Lord Grantham and told him they were married. Or Mr. Carson. Surely they would all see the need for a new husband and wife to be able to sleep in the same bed, wouldn't they?

Anna rubbed her hands over her face. She was absolutely exhausted; last night had been all but sleepless, after a full work day and all the wonderful, but draining, emotions of finally being wed. No wonder she wasn't thinking clearly.

She could hear the familiar tap of the cane as he approached, and she was grateful for the spring chill in the air giving her at least some sharpness and clarity of thought. Had it been any warmer out she might have flung herself into his arms and gone to sleep on his shoulder.

"Anna?"

"I'm here."

Without a word, he took her into his arms, his mouth finding hers. All the tentativeness of their former kisses, all the faint taste of restraint, was gone. He kissed her hungrily, with a confident knowledge of her mouth and her responses that sent fire thrilling through Anna's body. She stood up on her toes to get closer, responding with the eagerness and abandon she had learned in his arms just last night. It was no longer forbidden to feel this immediate passion under his touch, and that was exciting all by itself.

Through the haze of arousal, she realized dimly that he had pushed her back into a dark corner of the courtyard, and that his hand was on her thigh, slowly hiking up her skirt. The Anna she had been until yesterday's first thought was to tell him to stop ... but she wasn't that Anna any longer. She was Anna Bates, and Anna Bates hungered for her husband's touch. She shifted her legs just a little apart to allow him better access and was rewarded by a low growl deep in his throat in reaction to her movement.

His warm hand closed over her, rubbing firmly just where Anna ached most to be touched, and she was glad for his mouth on hers because otherwise she couldn't have kept quiet. Her underclothes were between them, and she wished for his fingers on her bare flesh, but Anna Bates was practical, too, and knew that this was as much as she could ask for—and more than she had hoped for. She clung to his shoulders to hold herself up as weakness filled her, her hips pushing against his hand, straining for the delightful pleasure she had experienced last night.

He didn't stop, or slow, just kept on steadily until she gasped, her knees refusing to hold her up any longer. John held her up, one strong arm tight around her waist, until Anna had recovered enough to stand again.

"We couldn't have done much more than this tonight, anyway," he said softly in her ear. "I'm sure you're still sore."

Anna nodded, feeling a sudden shyness, ridiculous though that might be.

John seemed to read her shyness, because his eyes warmed with humor and affection. "I promise, as soon as I can, I'll have us back in bed together. Until then ... dream of me, Anna."

"I always do," Anna whispered, and his smile widened with a pure happiness she had never seen on his face before. "I love you, John."

"I love you, Anna. My beautiful wife."

A/N: We come to the end of this story, but the first chapter of the next, "What It Hath Cost," is up already. Please join me there for the events of series 3.