A strange jittery sensation had come over her when they had left for the Sanditon: a fuzzy tingling through all her limbs, her arms and legs, her fingers and toes; an odd mindless buzzing in her brain. Like pins-and-needles, sharp and incessant and uncomfortable, and if this was nervousness, it was a level she had never experienced before.
Perhaps it would wear off when they reached the room, Jemima had supposed, only when she thought about that she of course could not avoid imagining what came next – and the details of that were just as fuzzy in her head. She let out a breath, trying to dispel all uncertainty from her head – she was married, he was here, there was no way back now, and no control to be had. All she could do, apparently, was twist the new ring mindlessly on her finger, and cast surreptitious glances at him when he was occupied with other things to try and measure how unhappy he was.
“Thank you,” she murmured, as he held the door. Upon entering the room Jemima made a beeline for the window without really meaning to, as though she might admire the view or find a conversation to spark about it. But it was already dark outside, and although she could hear the waves she could scarcely see a thing. So, probably too late for a stroll – nowhere else to go tonight. She wished she had eaten less during the day; she was too stuffed to think of eating anything else now. So she supposed that left going to bed, and... whatever happened before that.
Which was remarking on the furniture, it seemed. She turned back towards him at the chaise comment, glancing at it in mild bemusement and then up at him, questioning. (There was the chaise – but more glaringly, there was, in the corner of her eye wherever she looked, also the bed.) “Yes,” she agreed, hesitant. “Can I use it a moment?” Jemima asked, although once it was out she decided it was a ridiculous question – he might be her husband now, but presumably he would not mind if she took brief possession of the chaise simply because he had mentioned it first. So she sat, and leant down to relieve her feet, which were a little squished and sore from the new shoes. “I just – need to take off these shoes.”
Perhaps it would wear off when they reached the room, Jemima had supposed, only when she thought about that she of course could not avoid imagining what came next – and the details of that were just as fuzzy in her head. She let out a breath, trying to dispel all uncertainty from her head – she was married, he was here, there was no way back now, and no control to be had. All she could do, apparently, was twist the new ring mindlessly on her finger, and cast surreptitious glances at him when he was occupied with other things to try and measure how unhappy he was.
“Thank you,” she murmured, as he held the door. Upon entering the room Jemima made a beeline for the window without really meaning to, as though she might admire the view or find a conversation to spark about it. But it was already dark outside, and although she could hear the waves she could scarcely see a thing. So, probably too late for a stroll – nowhere else to go tonight. She wished she had eaten less during the day; she was too stuffed to think of eating anything else now. So she supposed that left going to bed, and... whatever happened before that.
Which was remarking on the furniture, it seemed. She turned back towards him at the chaise comment, glancing at it in mild bemusement and then up at him, questioning. (There was the chaise – but more glaringly, there was, in the corner of her eye wherever she looked, also the bed.) “Yes,” she agreed, hesitant. “Can I use it a moment?” Jemima asked, although once it was out she decided it was a ridiculous question – he might be her husband now, but presumably he would not mind if she took brief possession of the chaise simply because he had mentioned it first. So she sat, and leant down to relieve her feet, which were a little squished and sore from the new shoes. “I just – need to take off these shoes.”
