Novel snippet

After not writing for a few days, I finally kicked it into high gear and got caught up tonight. I really do like this novel. It's fun to write.

This is very rough, from tonight's writing.

Genevieve had packed Edward's dressing gown with her belongings when she prepared her trunk for Washington. She kept it a secret from her maid and from Mrs. Mayes because she correctly assumed that they would not understand her need to keep his scent with her. It helped her to sleep.

When she dressed for bed, she pulled Edward's dressing gown around her and folded its lapels firmly around her shoulders, breathing deeply of Edward's own scent. Just this evening she would allow herself to sleep in his dressing gown. It would almost be as if he were there, with his arms around her once more, warming her with his body. It would not be long now before that dream was reality, as Edward had cabled her that he was on his way home.

In the far watches of the night, Genevieve received a vision. It was a vision which would haunt her for the remainder of her days, and one which could send her into instant loss of self-control for years. She had a vision of Edward.

In the vision, her bedroom door opened and he crept in softly. When she looked up at him from her bed, he lifted a finger to his lips and silently closed her door. Genevieve smiled up at him and whispered, "Edward, darling! I did not think you would be here yet. Did you board another ship?"

Edward smiled but did not answer. In the moonlight made soft by her gauzy curtains, he sat on the edge of her bed and smiled down at her. Genevieve could smell his own scent, fresh from his own body and she smiled to know that he was back and she would no longer need to sleep with his clothing. She felt the bed move when his body rested there. She reached out for his hand but it was so cold that she pulled hers away.

"Darling, you are frozen! You must warm up. Here, come in here with me and get warm," she offered, raising up part of the bedcovering to let him in. He shook his head slowly, seemingly with amusement, and patted her hand through the blanket. "Well, if you're sure, sweetheart," she murmured sleepily. "I am so glad to see you. Skipper and I missed you," she ended with a shocking yawn. "I am so sorry, dear, it has been a long day."

When she felt his body leave the bed and the springs decompress, she opened her eyes once more. He stood next to her bed, looking down at her, in his gray suit with the white shirt she had specially packed for him to wear while he was in England. She smiled sleepily up at him and he smiled in return, stroking her shoulder. He took out his watch, looked at the face of it and then pulled out the photograph he had placed inside. Her eyes were so heavy, filled with sand but she kept them open as long as she could and saw him replace the photo into the watch case, close it, and put it back into his pocket before they closed. One last time she opened them, to smile and laugh at her inability to stay awake. His blue eyes studied her sadly. She was so very warm and tired but his eyes almost woke her up. Almost. Finally, her eyes closed and stayed closed. She did not see him leave.

The next day dawned a bit brisk but sunny. She stretched as she sat up in bed and looked around for evidence of where Edward had disappeared. There were not that many rooms in the house, where had he spent the night?

Genevieve got up, washed her face in the chilly water in the basin, and rubbed a rosy glow into her cheeks. Still wrapped in her husband's dressing gown, she wandered the second floor of the house, listening at closed doors for a snore or the sound of conversation. Her mother burst from her own room, then caught at her chest when she saw Genevieve in the hallway. "What on earth, child!" she exclaimed. "You will catch your death, parading around in that dressing gown! What are you doing?"

"Looking for Edward," she said, simply.

"Edward is not due to arrive here before the weekend, isn't that correct?" was her mother's confused question.

"But I thought he arrived last night," was Genevieve's equally confused assertion.

"I don't believe so, dear, but I will check with Mrs. Sanker and see. It would be delightful to see him earlier than we had hoped. Now run along and put your clothes on. The very idea! Motherhood has made you rather indolent."

Genevieve smiled and returned to her room to dress. Surely the day would warm up some, perhaps they could go for a walk. Walking downstairs, she saw Mrs. Sanker walking away from her mother, who awaited her at the bottom of the staircase. "Mrs. Sanker says that Edward did not come in last night, Genevieve. You must have dreamt it in your keen desire to see him again."

"It was surely a powerful dream, then. I felt him sit on my bed and take my hand. His hand was freezing." She smiled at the memory and blushed a bit. "I tried to get him to come to bed and warm up but he did not. I thought he had gone to sleep elsewhere so as to not waken me further."

"No, dear, I'm sorry. He is not in the house," was her mother's firm response.

"Oh well, I guess it was just a dream. It was surely realistic!"

"Ah yes, darling, that happens when you are in the family way. Everything is so vivid! Why I remember when I was expecting you..." and Jane Lodge escorted Genevieve to the dining room for a bite of breakfast.