The Wonderful Bouquet

CHAPTER TWO: The illness

Andrew woke up to feel the weight of his wife pressing down on him. Her bare skin was warm against hers, her arm wrapped around his waist. She would use his shoulder as her pillow, and she would be his blanket. They would often lay like this, but they would not always be completely naked.

Victoria had an illness, one that only came up when she was pregnant. Her first pregnancy had been good – not great, but not bad either. Alice was the perfect child. She was beautiful, kind and looked exactly like her mother. Andrew could not have been happier in that moment.

And when she got pregnant again, they were overjoyed. But soon they realized that they had cheered too soon. Sometimes his wife would be overwhelmed with pain and collapse on the ground. It was awful to see and not being able to do anything, but they had to endure it.

For nine months, they had lived in fear. Well, he had lived in fear. She had been calm about it, until her brother told her of her mother. She had passed away while giving birth to Victoria, and Malcolm, the lord of Blackburn, had revealed that the lady had been suffering with the same pain attacks as Victoria.

Since that moment, it had been hard to comfort her. Andrew tried, Malcolm tried and Elizabeth tried, but nothing could dismiss her fear – or Andrew's.

But giving birth to Louis was what he feared most. And unfortunately, his fear had not gone in vain. Victoria had been shouting in pain, but after a few hours, she went silent. And when Elizabeth came down with a worried look on her face, Andrew had feared the worst.

His wife had asked for him, for she believed she would die. It was very close, but she survived. She had been obliged to remain in bed for a few weeks, and she had hated not being allowed to feet her son. But Andrew would do whatever it took to protect the woman he loved so dear – the woman who was stirring in his arms.

He heard her take a deep breath before she moved her head off his shoulder and looked at him. A smile instantly appeared on her face.

"Good morning," Andrew said while wiping away a few hairs that had fallen in front of her face.

She kissed his lips, before she responded: "good morning, indeed."

He understood she was referring to last night – and the middle of the night. They could not make love like most couples could, for Victoria might get pregnant if they did. And if she was expecting another child, they did not know if she – or the baby – would make it alive.

Thus they kept to a routine. Every second week of the month, Andrew had to watch his wife's disappointed face when she told him they could not make love. Twas one of the remedies of to not get pregnant they had heard of, and so far it had worked. All they could do, was hope it remained like that.

Or not make love anymore, but that was not likely.

He pulled her on top of him as he watched her gorgeous face. Like this, with her hair down, he found she was the most beautiful. Pure and unique, and a sight that only he got the privilege to see.

He caressed her belly as he moved his head closer to her until his lips touched hers. He loved how he could not keep his eyes open when he was kissing her, and how he was certain that her eyes were closed in joy as well.

With his eyes still closed, he found his way to her cheek, and down to her neck. Her skin felt a bit damp, probably from sweat. Andrew smiled at that thought. They could not make love whenever they wanted. So whenever they could, they made certain it was great. And more than once a day was no rarity during every week except for the second week of every month.

She started laughing as he nibbled her neck, teasing her weak spot near her shoulder. She tried to push away from him, hoping he would stop tickling her, but he held her tight, not wanting to let her go. He wrapped his legs around her so that she had no chance of escaping anymore.