"I'm married, you big horse," was the first thing she told me, lifting her lovely chin and trying to look very serious, her eyes gleaming evilly. "He'... a banker," was the second. "And a wastrel," was the third. "And perhaps a thief. I'm not sure. Several men said he was. And perhaps a whoremonger." She sniffed and looked like a girl again instead of the proper matron she was attempting to portray. "I made a mistake, maybe. I think I did, a big mistake." She tapped her fingers on the table top. Her tummy felt so bloated and her breasts so tender that she just couldn't focus at all and plus, every time she actually did think of something to write, thoughts of him popped, unbidden into her mind, it was almost as if he were standing beside her, chatting, waving his arms as he explained something or better still, rubbed her back, god, how she ached to have her back rubbed right now. She sat back in her chair and stretched, feeling her vertebrae shift and click, alleviating that dull ache. More

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