They have never even lain naked together, he on top of her or vice versa. She has never felt the press of his skin against her chest, and thinking of this makes Hester’s throat dry, makes her heart rise up and half choke her. Without a word, she moves closer to Albert, until she can lay her cheek on his shoulder. He does not move, or speak. He can’t claim to be tired when clearly his mind is oddly alert tonight. After a minute, when there is no protest at her touch, Hester raises her face again. Albert is so close she can’t focus her eyes on him properly. He is a creamy-coloured blur, soft shades of gold and brown and milky white in the half light. The smell of him fills her nose. The soap he uses to shave with, the gentle tang of his skin underneath it.
‘Oh, Albert,’ she breathes, and all her love and desire for him rush into those two words, making her voice deeper, more resonant. She lets her hands run over his chest, pressing them into the cloth of his shirt, seeking the heat of the skin underneath, the slight resistance of the sparse hair growing there. Reaching up, she presses her mouth to his, feels the wonderful warmth of his lips, the softness of them, just for an instant, before he pushes her away.
‘Hetty …’ he begins, looking at her with something like despair, something almost fearful.
‘Oh, Albert!’ Hester whispers desperately. ‘Why do you always push me away? Don’t you love me? It is no sin, for man and wife to touch each other, to lie in each other’s arms …’
‘No, no; it is no sin, dear Hetty,’ Albert replies.
‘What then? You do not love me?’ she asks, stricken.
‘Of course I do, silly thing! Who could not love such a sweet wife as you?’ He releases her arms, clasps his hands across his chest again in a seemingly casual manner; but it is a guarded gesture, putting a barrier between them.
‘I’m not silly, Albert; I … I don’t understand. Are we husband and wife in name alone?’
‘We are husband and wife in God’s eyes, and that is a sacred thing, an unbreakable thing,’ Albert says, his voice almost fearful. His eyes roam the room, as though he longs to escape it.
‘I know it, and I’m glad of it; but … our union is not consummated. And what of children, Albert?’
‘I …’ Albert shuts his eyes, turns his head away slightly. ‘A family … a family is what I want. Of course it is, Hester …’
‘Well, though I do not pretend to know a great deal about these things, I know we shall never have one while you will not touch me, or kiss or hold me.’ Without meaning to, Hester bursts into tears. They are hot on her cheeks, and make her eyes burn.
‘There, there now; stop that, Hetty! We shall have a family, all in good time! We’re young yet, and … perhaps we are too young. Perhaps it would be better to wait a while longer, until we are both more tutored in the ways of the world …’
‘I am twenty-six on my next birthday, Albert. You will be twenty-five. Many women younger than I are mothers thrice over already!’ She sniffs, blotting at her eyes with the cuff of her nightdress. ‘But it is not just that – not only that! I need … I need tenderness from you, Albert!’
‘Hetty, please. Calm yourself,’ Albert begs, and he looks so strained, so trapped and awkward that Hester relents.
‘I don’t mean to make you unhappy,’ she says, swallowing her sobs.
‘How could you? Dear Hester,’ he says, and in his eyes is a look of helpless anguish. He watches her cry for a moment, and then rolls onto his side, towards her, and brushes her cheek with his fingers. He seems to come to a decision. ‘Very well. Will you turn out the light?’ he says, and Hester is shocked to hear his voice shaking. Mutely, she complies.
In the darkness, Hester waits. Albert moves closer still, so that the length of his body presses into her side. She turns her face towards him, and can feel his proximity, the way her own breath hits his skin and bounces back to warm her. When he kisses her she leans into him, crushing their mouths together. She can’t seem to catch her breath. The room spins and it is wonderful, intoxicating. She puts her arms around him, fingers splayed to touch as much of him as she can. She gathers up his shirt, bunching it with her fists until she finds the skin underneath, and runs her hands along it, delighting in the heat of it, the smooth texture. Albert shivers at her touch. Gently, she pulls him closer and closer, so that he loses his balance and has no choice but to lie on top of her. Holding him tightly, feeling the weight of him squeezing the air from her lungs, a strong surge of joy shoots through her. She smiles in the dark, and kisses him again.