The Moore's coachman chauffeured the couple through the foggy streets of Kensington to their own terrace house on Campden Hill, where they had lived peacefully together since they were young newlyweds.

It was only ever meant to be a temporary home, however, as Adeline's father, Richard, made it perfectly clear that he intended for Adeline to one day return to her family estate. Being that she was the only surviving child of Richard and the late Louisa Edwards, it was important that she inherit all that her family possessed.

Landed gentry was the term used when referring to Adeline's family, marking them as land owners who could live entirely from the rental income they incurred. Landed gentry were considered below that of aristocracy, but above the working upper class, making Adeline's marriage to Thomas quite a scandalous one within her community.

'Gentlemen don't work, Adeline, not real gentlemen,' her great aunt once remarked upon learning of Adeline's engagement.

Although Thomas' family was well known and very much respected in London, it simply was not a standard state of affairs to wed outside one's social class, yet Adeline did not concern herself with such formalities. She had the blessing of her father to enter into marriage with Thomas and that was the only matter of importance in her eyes.

Of course, Richard's blessing did not come without a prenuptial agreement that Adeline's inheritance and title to the Edwards' estate stay in her name and her name only.

Perhaps this too was a source of contention between Thomas and Adeline.

As the couple descended the area steps and entered into their home, Brona, the maid, quietly padded down the stairs from the entrance hall and assisted Adeline in removing her overcoat.

'Tea, Ma'am?' Brona asked with her soft, Irish intonation.

'That won't be necessary. You may retire for the evening, Brona,' Adeline assured as she followed Thomas up the stairs into the entrance hall.

The Moore household was, what some might call, comfortably cluttered. A collector of fine things in any form, Adeline had spent the better part of a decade filling her home with any and all things she considered to be beautiful, interesting or meaningful.

Nearly every surface, to which there were many, was adorned with statuettes and picture frames,

bowls and boxes, pots, vases and trinkets. The walls were busy and alive with richly colored motif wallpapers, like Larkspur and Pomegranate, and over them hung dozens upon dozens of paintings, photographs, mirrors and sconces.

Spending as much time at home as she did, Adeline had, perhaps partly due to boredom, transformed her marriage home into an eclectic art gallery of sorts.

During the dark of evening, the rooms were set aglow by the many gaslight fixtures and chandeliers placed in every open space, where they cast out a warm and comfortable amber hue. In daylight hours, the drapes and blinds covering the bay windows and glass doors would be cast aside to allow the sun to shine freely in, making the space feel crisp and clean.

As Thomas began to ascend the second set of stairs that would lead him to his bedroom, Adeline captured his attention, 'Thomas?' She asked softly, 'Would you care to sleep in my room with me tonight?'

'Long day ahead tomorrow, darling. Must get a good night's rest,' he answered without looking back or slowing his climb to the third level of the house.

'Goodnight then,' Adeline responded, having stopped on the fourth step to allow Thomas leave of her presence.

Brona spoke gently from behind, 'You're certain there's nothing I can get for you, Mrs. Moore?'

Adeline turned to give her young maid a placid smile, 'I'm sure. Rest well'

With that, Brona clasped her hands in front of herself and turned away, pacing lightly to the back of the house where her humble sleeping quarters were located, leaving Adeline on the stairs where she waited a moment before continuing up and toward her own bedroom.

She and Thomas hadn't always slept separately, of course. It was only four years prior that he went to Adeline insisting they both deserved their own, quiet place to rest and rejuvenate at the end of every long, strenuous day.

Although she agreed to his request, Adeline had not anticipated, before hand, the implications of such an arrangement, those chiefly being an injurious loss of intimacy, both physical and emotional.

She tried very hard not to overthink or dissect her marriage, having reassured herself over and over that this was simply the way a marriage evolves over time. It was, indeed, quite common for men and women to marry only for the prosperity of assets or the gaining of title. With regards to such cold and outdated arrangements, Adeline set herself apart, having married Thomas for love, just as her own mother and father had. Even so, Adeline could not remember her parents' marraige for comparison to her own, being that Louisa, her mother, died when she was only two years old. Still, she enjoyed romanticizing over the great love that must have thrived between her parents, since Richard so often spoke fondly of his marraige as being the most wonderful time of his life.

Once retired to her bedroom, Adeline went about the monotonous process of disrobing and changing into her crisp, white nightdress. She sat at her carved oak vanity, looking into the mirror while she removed the embellished barrettes and pins from her hair. Wavy, umber strands unraveled themselves, cascading over Adeline's shoulders and relieving the day's worth of tension a tight updo inevitably caused.

After Adeline turned out her bedroom light, replacing it with a smaller bedside gaslamp, she crawled into bed with her hard cover copy of The Scarlet Letter. Reading was her most cherished pastime and getting lost in a story at the end of the day was the best way to calm her often hectic mind.

This night, however, Adeline would be interrupted when she discerned the familiar ping of a shifting door handle. She lifted her gaze from her book as the door to her bedroom creaked slowly inward, revealing the tall, dark silhouette of her husband.

'Thomas?' She whispered, closing her book and placing it on the nightstand next to where she sat.

Thomas did not respond while he closed the bedroom door behind himself and paced toward Adeline's bed. Proceeding to switch off the gaslamp and blow out the flame, he cloaked himself and Adeline in darkness, the glow of the moon and streetlights outside the window offering only a dim luminescence.

Thomas bent himself over, pulled back the quilt that covered Adeline, and began to cinch the bottom of her nightdress up around her waist with his hands, exposing her nude lower half.

Adeline watched her husband through the darkness as he quietly grabbed hold of her legs, pulled her down from where she had been sitting and lowered her onto her back as if she were a porcelain doll in need of repositioning.

Thomas spread her wide while he climbed onto the bed, then settled himself between her thighs, inducing in Adeline a quickened pace of heart. Her husband, kneeling, removed his nightshirt in one, swift motion, placing it thoughtfully on the bed beside them, then moved himself and his unbending manhood close to Adeline's center.

It had been months since Thomas last visited Adeline's bedroom and for this reason, the sensation of him so suddenly was uncomfortable, painful, making her tense as he took hold of and pushed himself inside. Adeline's breath caught.

Even so, the masculine scent of her husband, so alike bergamot and leather, soon eased Adeline into an ease, a state of familiarity. This aroma had attached to it a plethora of the most intimate memories she had shared with her husband in the heat of their many passionate first encounters. Adeline willed herself to relax, grateful for the opportunity to reconnect to her marital affections.

Thomas leaned over his wife, supporting his torso with his arms while he began a steady tempo of pelvic thrusts. Adeline could distinguish, even in the dim light, that her husband was dissolved in pleasure with an intensity on his features and closed eyes. She allowed herself to savor the sensation of Thomas sliding in and out like the eb and flow of a tide. His body cast a warmness into her pelvis and heated the flesh of her inner thighs, adding to her enjoyment.

With his tousled, hickory colored hair, those deep, dark eyes and strong, masculine jaw, Adeline reminded herself of Thomas's beauty and adored the way his handsomeness still set a blush in her cheeks.

A pulsing throb began to stir in her most sensitive area as her husband's breath quickened and hushed groans of pleasure escaped his lips.

Adeline gazed up at Thomas from where she lay, searching for his eyes in the dim light, aching to meet her husband in ecstacy. Reaching her hand upwards, she ran her fingertips through his thick locks, urging him to look into her loving eyes. But instead of acquiescing to her gentle request, he pulled her hand away from his hair and pinned her arm to the bed under his grip as he began to steadily dig his manhood further into her, more quickly than before. His breath came in shallow pitch as he dropped his head and squeezed Adeline's bound wrist in his grip, quickening still his momentum and causing the bed beneath them creak and moan.

Adeline was taken aback as her husband groaned, his body tense, strong and rhythmic, eyes closed tightly in concentration. Thomas's pelvis shuddered suddenly, quivering in climax as he spilled himself into her.

He panted heavily, his manhood thumping inside of his wife while he remained where he was, allowing the pleasure to ease itself through his system. Adeline lay quietly as Thomas released his rough grip on her wrist, leaned back and withdrew himself. He then calmly took his nightshirt into his hands, slipping it over his shoulders and arms while he climbed out of the creaky bed.

Adeline simply observed, at a loss for words, as Thomas padded across the floor, opened the door and left her bedroom without word, leaving her as she was in the dark, dejected, nude from the waist down and wet between the legs.