[Declan O'Dwyer]

He laughed. "You may bring all the elves and staff you want, but I suppose I should let you know that this estate has one pretty decent cook already. I'd be impressed if you'd find one who can make better coddle or boxties. That being said, the house definitely needs a cook for events with some classical training. I don't think our guests would be deeply impressed with traditional Irish fair at every occasion."

Declan gave a small smile and was about to lead her down to the kitchen when Farren teased him about wanting to see his rooms anyway. Now that, was unexpected. He'd have thought she would be more prim and proper about this sort of thing. They hadn't at all talked about the subject of intimacy, but he had just assumed that she would want to follow all the established conventions. Wasn't that usually how women felt about this sort of thing? It certainly hadn't occurred to him that she could be adventurous.

Maybe, she was just testing his limits? Unwise. He could be reckless at times, perhaps more than his usually quiet and composed demeanour let people expect. Surely, Farren knew he had a wild side at times? She'd fallen through a vanishing cabinet with him the first night they had reconnected. It was a fond memory for him. Everything had felt like it was meant to be that evening. He had seen her again and it had been strange how easily they had fallen into each other, as if no time had passed at all.

Interlacing his fingers with hers he gave her a soft, longing look. "As you wish, my lady."

Before she had a chance to change her mind he was tucking on her hand and pulling her through the double door leading into his bedroom. The fireplace lit itself as they stepped inside, crackling softly. The room had a dramatic quality with its dark, walnut flooring, deeply emerald green walls, big arched windows and ornately decorated silver mirrors. The centrepiece was an ebony four poster bed with beautifully carved corner posts. It had a certain charm, as if taken directly from one of the Gothic novels that Declan had enjoyed reading so much as a teenager.

He raised an eyebrow at Farren trying to gauge her reaction. Was she speechless? He placed his hands back on her waist gently pulling her towards him. "No orchids here," he teased her playfully. "Just an old pine," he indicated behind him vaguely in the direction of a bonsai tree sitting on top of a chest of drawers. "I hope this room meets with your approval. But just in case it doesn't..." he leaned in to steal a little peck. "How about now? Better?"

[Farren Abercrombie]

She hadn't thought he would take her up on the dare. But she was glad he did. What was there to worry about - really? There was no virtue at stake here. She was not a maiden, the world knew this, when their plans were announced the O'Dwyers would not be expecting a virgin bride for their son. So what was the big deal about going into his bed room? Who was going to tell on them? The plants? It was an innocent enough thing to look at on a house tour on the surface.


The way he took her hand, interlacing his fingers in hers, made the corners of her lips turn into a smile. It was oddly intimate when he did this and she liked it. Gentlemen never took ladies hand this way in her world. Following him gladly she was surprised at the room. Neat, somewhat sparse, yet opulent, and romantic. Grinning she looked from him to the room. "Well fit for a brooding romantic," she said her eyes falling on the massive bed. Her bedroom in London was white with gold trimmings, it was bright and airy, but this reminded her of him as a teen somehow. Glancing at the bonsai she arched her eyebrow, she knew enough to know that these types of plants took decades of management, but she assumed at this point her objection to plants in living quarters would become a bit of a running gag for them so she made sure he caught her mock skepticism of the plant before smiling.

He'd pulled her towards him again and she felt her heart quicken immediately. "I like it," she said as he leaned in, his kiss was quick, teasing. "I can think of a way to make it better yet," she said softly reaching up to cup his face in her hand, running her thumb slowly over his cheek.

Her lips brushed his as she spoke in a whisper, "Close your eyes. Imagine, I am yours and you are mine, this is our home, this is now my bedroom too, my mansion, Mrs. Farren Abercrombie O'Dwyer, I've added a vanity near one of the windows, at night you lounge in bed and watch me sit at the vanity brushing my hair, my dressing gown sliding down my bare shoulders because I've become lazy about bothering to cover up and maintain appearances in our home, maybe you can smell the perfume you blended just for me on the pillow next to you, the fire is low and crackling, it's warm and cozy...." she pressed her lips to his softly, letting them linger for a moment before deepening her kiss.

Farren found herself lost momentarily in the vision she'd created. It was meant to ensnare him, the creative, the brooding one, the deep romantic, but she too found herself transfixed at the idea of it. Had she wanted him so badly all along? She had hardly thought of such a thing before they ran into each other at his shop. But she'd almost convinced even herself this was always her dream, this picture perfect evening she'd imagined up. Her free hand found the small of his back and pulled him closer to her as she kissed him. Once again she felt the warm pull from within herself towards him, wanting more.

Slowly she pulled away. A crazy thought entered her mind. She felt bold and playful, something she couldn't remember ever feeling with a gentleman before. "Do you like that idea?" Smirking she leaned in and placed a sweet kiss on his cheek before slowly pulling out of his grasp. "I must admit, even to me it sounds quite pleasant." There was something in the way she looked at him. Was she teasing him? Challenging him? Even she wasn't sure at this point. This place was getting to her, he was getting to her.

Turning towards the bed her back to him she walked slowly towards the bed. "We will need to convert an adjoining room or something into a dressing room. I'm sure you can imagine but I have quite the collection of clothes and shoes and jewels. I hope you won't be upset but I plan on keeping the Rosier pieces I was gifted. I'm quite fond of them at this point. Then there's the Abercrombie pieces, obviously far more in quantity but while my mother and Grandmother live much remains with them at Dalemain still. I suppose the O'Dwyers of all people know how to store heirloom diamonds and emeralds so I trust there is nothing to worry about," she prattled on about her jewelry as she walked towards his bed. Her demeanor was casual, as if all of this was entirely routine.

At the foot of the bed she paused, her fingertips resting lightly on the edge of the bed. Farren was more than aware of her affect on men. Even if her charms had never done much for her marriage she had learned enough otherwise and thought she knew Declan well enough to know what she was doing now. Looking over her shoulder at him she smiled a little, "Can you see it then? My little idea of how it could be?" She shifted, turning to face him, the edge of the bed pressed against the back of her thighs. She locked her eyes on his, smiling or was it sneering as she carefully stepped out of her shoes. Placing her hands on the bed she gently hoisted herself onto it, her bare feet dangling a few inches above the floor.

Had she suspected 24 hours ago she would be sitting on Declan O'Dwyer's bed? Certainly not. Had she thought about it and how deep down perhaps she wanted him to rush to her and push her back into the bed and climb onto it with her? Maybe once or twice after many glasses of wine. But at this point she was just being careless. Pulling her legs up onto the bed she pulled herself back towards the head of the bed. With a little giggle she let herself lean against the head of the bed, her skirt sprawled out across the bed, her legs straight out in front of her.

"Can you see it? Me sitting here while you wash up and shave in the morning? Reading The Prophet. Drinking my tea. Calling to you in the bathroom to come and read about what that miserable man Voldemort has done now. My maid has come in and wants to help me dress as she always has. You hate this. You like it to be just us in the mornings and evenings. You like helping me button up my dress and placing a little kiss on the back of my neck after you clasp the necklace I've selected for that day. She goes to the closet and selects my dress and lays it out across the foot of the bed but as soon as you appear in the door she leaves. There is an unspoken agreement about this now. You cross the room to my bedside. Lean down and give me a deep kiss before glancing down at The Prophet. I'm distracted from the paper now and reach up to kiss you again. I make some off hand comment about your lips, how I've always thought about them. We giggle. We glance at the clock and you gently take my paper and toss it aside. I set my tea cup on the nightstand. You say something a bit silly like how no one can say anything to you if you're late to the shop because you're the boss. I tease you for being a horrible boss. You make a joke about how I never seem to complain about your being the boss of me. I say something like -- oh Mr. O'Dwyer, we both know I am the boss in this house. You laugh and climb back into bed and say something silly like, indeed you are Mrs. O'Dwyer."

She smiled at him her cheeks a little pink before giggling, "Doesn't it sound nice?"

[Declan O'Dwyer]

Declan closed his eyes as she suggested and carefully listened to her story. It was easy to picture himself in this fantasy of a happy life. A vanity added by the window, her sitting there brushing her hair. It was just a mundane little detail, and yet it seemed pregnant with implication. A shared life, emotional intimacy. Declan lost himself in her kiss. Her hand rested on the small of his back and he felt safe and loved in her presence. This day sure was a strange ride, a few minutes ago he'd doubted, but now they were both easing back into their feelings.

He wanted to protest when she pulled back. He slowly opened his eyes, trying to grudgingly accept that the moment had come and gone. Farren, meanwhile had other plans. She happily talked about gowns and jewellery and Declan couldn't help a little smile. Was she really worried they wouldn't find space to store her worldly possessions? The house had so many empty rooms still, her request didn't present much of a challenge.

"Yes, of course," he confirmed simply. "I'm sure we will think of something." His eyes widened slightly as she strolled over to his bed and sat down. She was placing rather more faith in his kindness and restraint than he would have himself. Farren seemed lost in some innocent fantasy about their shared life, while his mind supplied darker, more seductive imagery. He swallowed hard in an effort to displace his thoughts best he could.

Meanwhile Farren detailed a future that sounded sweet, even if a little alien to him. She had a maid to dress her? Well, she was right in her characterisation of him, he would hate seeing that lady in their shared bedroom. It wasn't a done thing in his family. If anything sharing such closeness with someone outside the family was, well, a little odd. He supposed as much as their station made the, equals, they had been raised in quite different worlds. Then again, it made sense. The Abercrombie's spent a lot more time hosting events and attending fancy soirées than his family ever had. It made sense to have skilled staff at hand.

His mind ran along a little more serious tangent for a while, trying to pinpoint how they would balance things. Farren was a public figure and he was under no illusion that would change. That probably meant that part of their personal life would be exposed to public scrutiny. All the more reason to keep some things sacred. Wasn't it just?

"You know me well," he commented softly. "I don't think I'd be very happy sharing our most personal space with anybody else. There will be things happening here that are just for you and me." He returned her teasing little smile. He had to admit that she looked rather tempting sitting on his bed. Maybe, he should just let himself enjoy the moment. It seemed a little scandalous, but if Farren could be quite fearless so could he.

Declan stepped to the bedside and stole a quick peck from her lips. "I have to admit, I never quite imagined it just like that, but it does sound rather wonderful." He couldn't help but steal another little kiss before sitting down facing her and taking her hands in his.

"There's definitely no dressing gown in my account of events. But music is playing while you're fixing your hair. It's been a long day for me. You, I dunno how that's possible, escaped work early. I'm leaning against the doorframe when I see you. The room smells of something faint and floral, roses I think, must be your favourite. You've clearly been waiting for me. Make-up's still on. You're wearing your emerald necklace and earrings still. I feel nervous and my stomach flutters. It's kinda embarrassing after all this time. Still, I can't help it. That's just how things are. You turn and flash me a smile. My breath catches in my throat. You look beautiful in your corset. Then you demand kisses. Here," he took her hand and moved it to point at a spot on her cheek. "And here and of course there." Declan moved her hand again, touching a spot on her neck, and another at the corner of her lips. "Of course, I comply. Who could say no to a woman like you."

His narrative got broken up as he carefully placed the mentioned kisses, each short and fleeting, but placed carefully and with clear adoration.

"You know exactly what to say to make me lose my mind and more requests follow." He leaned closer to her again, slowly undoing the red bow around her neck. "It's a good thing nobody ever disturbs us or overhears what is said." Declan gave her a soft look and undid the top button of her dress, placing another gentle kiss on the bit of pale skin revealed.

"You urge me on, I don't think I ... make out the words. Too distracted drinking in how beautiful you look." He moved his hands again to undo another button, but found himself hesitating. Maybe, that was just too brazen? She was bound to tell him off for this.

[Farren Abercrombie]

Mature content. This is not currently available to you.

[Declan O'Dwyer]

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[Farren Abercrombie]

Farren gasped at his touches. Her eyes closed she could only focus in bursts on him and his body. She felt ripples of longing surge through her with each brush of skin, each press of his lips. For once she was consumed only by the fleeting but electric pleasures of the moment. Wrapped up in the moment and in him entirely. Her leg shifted, wrapping around his hip keeping his body close to hers. It had taken so long to feel what she'd read in novels and seen in the theatre. Love, lust, and total consumption of another person. Already she found herself wanting and thinking about things she shouldn't.

Arching her back towards him she exhaled sharply, overwhelmed, her brain foggy with emotion and physical chemistry. "Declan," she managed to whisper, almost panting, "I'm overwhelmed," she said softly. Somehow she couldn't bring herself to tell him to stop. She didn't want him to stop. Certainly not, as inappropriate as it was she wanted him to keep going. To slowly undress her, to cover her skin in kisses and touches. A little groan of simultaneous pleasure and torture escaped her as she gently reached to cup his face in her hands and turn his gaze back to her face. "My dear, you have such a power over me already," she said softly. "I am overcome with emotion and desire in such a way I thought was reserved for novels."

Shifting she leaned forward, curling her shoulders forward to gently kiss him. "Lay next to me, I would like you to hold me." It surprised her how when he eventually moved off of her she immediately wanted him to come back, like the pressure of his frame against hers was somehow holding her to the earth now. Turning on her side to face him she didn't bother adjusting her clothing, she didn't mind being partially bare, exposed to him. She wanted him to look at her, appreciate her, lust for her even if he wasn't uncovering more of her.

Her nose millimeters from his she smiled sweetly and pressed a tender kiss against his lips. "I can't believe all of this. On one hand I still think we're mad. On the other, I truly do wish it'd happened like this earlier. I never expected....the way you promise to care for me, to adore me, in truth I never expected such a thing from a man. At least not one like yourself of station and power and wealth. You will have to be patient with me. I'm sure there will be many things that overwhelm me. You are the poet of this family, not me, I am not used to using words openly as expressions like you." Pausing she let her eyes meet his for a moment. It was she thought the first time she'd referred to them as a family. It was overwhelming too. Declan was going to be her family. It seemed the most proper thing to have happened in her life in a long time.

"Since we will be a family....I think before we get too wrapped up, too....." she couldn't help but glance at his lips, she was thinking about them covering her bare skin in kisses again. "We should talk seriously about the family aspect of things. Expectations should match you know....homes, money, children, roles in the household. If we cannot agree on these things we will be doomed from the start."

Taking a deep breath she slid closer to him, resting her forehead against his chin, nestled into him. "I will live here with you -- once the mad plants are gone and there is some bit of semblance of a home. If we wed before that is achieved we must have an alternative residence. My father has passed up the rights to Hutton. It's another estate home, seven miles or so from the house at Dalemain. Since he has passed it up it is now rightfully mine. I would like to spend some time there. It is my home. It is as much in my blood as this place is yours."
"I want children. I will need at least 3 sons. So far I am the only child of my father's as you know. The plan with the Rosiers was always that we would have children until we had 3 boys. An heir and a spare for Clive. The third, he would be my boy, my heir. Abercrombie-Rosier, and as my heir would carry on my family name. If somehow my parents manage to have a son then I suppose all that is for naught but the doctors have said it's impossible so I suspect it will be critical that I produce an heir for us lest the family is to die off after my death. I know it is frightful for proud pureblood men to think of their son bearing the name of another clan as their primary clan. I know it will be complicated with the children....but I think between the two of us we have enough property and money to appease them all even if one has an inheritance to rival the eldest?"

Sighing she placed a soft kiss on his neck. Declan was a proud man. He seemed very serious about restoring his family's name and reputational influence after his father had muddied the waters a bit. It wouldn't surprise her if he resisted one of his sons being English, heir to an English line, and adopting her surname as his primary surname later in life. "He wouldn't have to go by Abercrombie until I am elderly. He would spend much of his formative years as an O'Dwyer first....but he would and likely another would need to understand my family's ownership stakes and such as you do with the O'Dwyers....I know it's a lot to ask...but it's not really something negotiable for me....I will need to have quite a lot of children then I'm afraid. Cause of course I also want a girl as well and I don't suppose you should have one girl and three brothers. She will need a companion, a sister. So as much as I don't really have an opinion on infants, I suppose I must have rather a lot of them when I am married."

Pursing her lips anxiously she looked up at him worried about his objection. He only had one sibbling. Perhaps he didn't care for children. They certainly had enough space and money that if he preferred not to he wouldn't have to be involved much in their daily care. But still, it was rather a lot to ask of a man. Surely all of this affection and desire was meant to lead somewhere? If not many happy children then to what end? "What do you think?"

[Declan O'Dwyer]

Things seemed to take a turn for the more serious again and still Declan felt like he wanted to laugh. Farren attested him that he was good with words and expressing his emotions. Had she met him? The statement sounded absurd to him. "I try my best, Farren, but I don't think you're right about me. I struggle just as much as anybody else. You know, there's this story that I was in love with my best friend and didn't tell her. Went to her wedding to another man and everything."

He quirked a brow and gave a low chuckle. "I'm just as overwhelmed as you are," he admitted in a half whisper. "Rather a lot to take in, isn't it?" He settled to lie beside her and just hold her hand. It felt essential to retain some sort of physical contact as if having it would tether him to reality. His heart was all fluttery and his soul all floaty with that bit of passion they had shared. Part of him wanted to push for more, but they'd barely just reached an understanding. There was time, right?

Farren, meanwhile, seemed to be preoccupied by pureblood succession and politics. We was a bit taken aback when she started to discuss the number of heirs they would need. How could she be so... so calculated about founding a family? She was right of course in that it was a detail they would have to agree on for the sake of their families. Still, it was a little bit scary to think of it in such pragmatic terms.

"I'm not opposed to any of that," he said softly. Sure it was a bit unconventional to give a third son a different surname, but he supposed it was better than what usually happened with third sons. As an O'Dwyer such a boy would be a life long second fiddle to his older brothers and have an uninspiring inheritance. Being an Abercrombie would give him both wealth and influence. Declan could see his father potentially having a thing or two to say about it, but his opinion on things hardly mattered.

"As long as our sons are happy with such an arrangement," he confirmed, "I don't see why not. I won't force our children the same way we were. If they find their own path, they will have my support." He suspected that was a bit of a controversial opinion to have and wondered if Farren would be offended. "However, I suspect if our children are anything like you and me that won't be a problem."