i've been thinking...would've John and Esme have feelings for eachother even if they wouldn't have been arranged?I mean, they probably wouldn't have met,but if they did?I don't think they're eachothers type,and before the marriage they lived different kind of lives.But they go really well together and i loved them together and i think that they kinda of match.Ofc,everything changes from the circumstances too,if the Lees and the Shelbys would be at peace or not.What do you think?
I think John and Esme would have went after each other even if they weren't married off.
I could imagine John would have wandered the fairs when he was younger, looking for a glint of interest from any pretty girl he could find.
Esme was wild, that's why the Lees wanted to marry her off. She could have easily went to the fairs in hopes she could sneak away from her family and meet a man with a devilish smile.
Esme was bored, and it was written all over her face. She was disappointed in herself. She spent all her energy to sneak away from all the eyes of the Lees, just to be cornered by the most boring man in Birmingham.
He was prattling on about his business in printing. Was he trying to impress her? Pressing ink on pages and binding books was not getting her knickers in a twist. He smelled like a library. Did her realize she kept scanning the fair behind him? Why has she let him corner her against a tent?
"Do you want to play the games?" She finally interrupted him.
His attempt of a smile was more like a grimace, and she knew his answer before he started speaking.
"Games? How trivial."
A man appeared beside her, chewing on a cigar with his hands in his pockets.
"Fuck off, mate," he said cooly.
The man scowled.
"She thinks you're dull," he said, a grin widening on his face. "And I'd have to agree with the lady. You smell like a fucking library. Best get your dusty ass back to where it came before you catch fire."
The man looked confused for a moment before John reached for the man's chest pocket, opened it, and tapped his cigar ashes into his pocket. The man stepped back, hands flailing as curses flew from his mouth. He walked away, muttering more curses over his shoulder.
"My hero," Esme said dryly, fighting the small smile coming to her lips. "And you are?'
"More interesting than Mr. Dusty Books," he smiled goofily. "Names John."
"And you think you're better?"
"I know I am," John said, hands back in his pockets as he bounced on his heels.
Esme leaned forward, taking John's cigar from his mouth and dropping it on the ground, stomping it with the heel of her boot.
"Prove it."
John's smile widened until he looked like a cat that ate a canary.
Two times the Garrison ever goes quiet are as follows: When Thomas Shelby walks in on a mission and When Grace Cambell, formally Burgess walks in on a Sunny afternoon.
The light filtered behind her blanketing her like a holy vision. Or a divine warning.
Thomas, Arthur and John stood at the bar discussing the races with a few locals when a sudden deafening hush swept through the room.
Icy blue orbs landed on the woman who dared saunter in. Her green coat bunched tighter around her chest as if the wool were armour.
She probably needed it. Eyes followed her as she walked closer to the trio of brothers. She was bold as brass, one had to give her that.
Thomas ashed his cigarette and turned his body to face her.
Arthur cleared his voice into his Whiskey glass as he looked at the mirror opposite of him.
John scoffed.
A steady hand of his brother kept the younger dangerous Shelby man in his seat.
"Grace, or do we address you as Mrs. Campbell now? I heard congratulations were in order." Thomas's deep whiskey laden voice rang out in the quiet room. Only a cough from a patron startled the silence.
"Keep tabs on me?" Grace's head was held high, her chin defiant but Thomas smiled when he'd caught it. The quiver of lip.
"I always keep tabs on my enemies." He replied dryly. Surely she knew that time had only passed briefly when she married and retreated back to Ireland. Campbell must have been reassigned to Birmingham….wonderful.
"I was doing a job. For the crown, may I remind you, you once fought for." She looked around the room as if seeking a friend or finally sensing the danger she'd walked into. Perhaps she was testing to see if she would be welcome back?
Not a chance in hell but it was a bold try.
He and John chuckled. The crown was a touchy subject. She'd learned nothing.
"What do you want, Grace, truly?" His pointed question seemed to emboldened her. Her shoulders relaxed. Nothing had happened yet, foolish to think it wouldn't in the future.
"To let you know I was back in town. I don't want trouble." She laid it down like a smoke gun. John laughed like it was a hilarious joke. Tommy fought the tug forming at his lips. It was amusing. He didn't believe for one moment that was the only reason. She was a smart woman.
" Figured if I came to you, we could be done with it." She was addressing him only. Ignoring John at the moment.
"We never started." It was true. None of them had invited Campbell the first time. "You people came to us to infiltrate, break us up and you left with mud on your faces." He couldn't hide his smirk this time when her face bloomed red in shame and rage.
"Who is she?" Michael, Polly's found son whispered. He had taken a break from the numbers in the shop and joined his cousins. Arthur whispers behind Tommy trying to explain politely.
"Should have tried to seduce you Arthur, would have been easier." Grace leaned over Tommy and spoke to the elder man.
"Look grace, you're a ni…pretty lady but I think of you like I think of Ada. As a little sister, you're not really attractive to me. I took you in because you needed work and Harry said he'd hired you for the position we'd advertised for in the paper. Nothing more." Thomas chuckled and picked up his cigarette. He never smoked in front of a lady but he wasn't in front of one and she was in his tavern.
"Harry aint here no more..' John says it with a smirk. Could be a threat or a bluff.
"Your bluffing John Shelby. I've seen you play cards." Grace retorted quickly. Her hand went back to the top button of her coat near her throat. She wasn't convinced herself.
"But you can't prove what I did or didn't do can you? Tommy, Arthur and I were decorated soldiers in my own right, Grace and were peaky fookin blinders. Not a gentleman like your dandy husband. " He grins further. Thomas made no attempt to stop the jest. " Unless you find Harry you can prove what I've done." John pushed just a touch farther, always the baiter.
"Enough John. Grace, do yourself a favor lovie, go to whatever home Campbell set up for you and be a good wife eh?" Tommy finished the drag on his dwindling cigarette and snuffed it out signalling her dismissal.
The door slammed open, startling the room again for the second time this slow afternoon.
"I'm looking for Mr Shelby. Polly Gray sent me. Esme had the baby!" The little rascal's cheeks were flushed, sweat beading his beet red face. Thomas stood straighter, stunned.
"Hey, congrats and remember, girls aint nothing but trouble!" John called out as his brother brushed past Grace to stumble out into dusty streets.
"Delivered my trouble eh?" His voice wafted through the room causing all three sets of eyes to drift to him.
He was leaning against the door frame taking in the scene before him. Memorizing it like a sketch in his head.
Esme sat up holding a little bundle with dark hair. She was glowying. Her skin is all dewey from her hard work, wavy hair hanging down her shoulders like Madonna. To him she was. He believed and trusted in Esme. She and this new person who he'd help make were his faith and he'd serve without question.
"Wha' are you going on about Thomas, trouble?" Esme's eyebrow arched elegantly as if she were scolding. He knew better. He chuckled and approached.
Polly had moved off to the side where she was cleaning up and ringing a rag into a bucket. The room smelled fresh already. Hardworking women indeed.
"Yes, I'm curious what you're going on about as well." Polly answered him.
"Somehting John said when I left the Garrison today. Its been a day full of surprises. Grace Campbell walked into the pub. Apparently they are back." He sat down on the bed gently and rubbed Esme's blanket covered legs.
He hadn't asked to see the baby yet. In time. He was proud of his wife. He hadn't stopped smiling since he hit the doorframe.
Esme and Polly exchange worried looks.
"I handled it. John had a lot to say to her as well. Told her to make herself scarce and stay inside." He nodded towards the blanket bundled in his wife's arms. She smiled broadly and gently extended her arms.
Soft grunts came from the white knitted swaddle. His gun calloused hands gently gripped the child and pulled it to his chest. One hand snaked forward to pull down the shelled lace. His piercing blue eyes started back at him. The child hands Esme's doll-like face.
God he hoped it was a girl. Otherwise the baby boy would spend his life squirming in the mud, pretty boys rarely got left alone.
" Probably good advice, not that Mrs Campbell follows such advice…." Polly chimed in.
"Arthur publicly turned her down and John was not interested. Her infiltration days into the peaky blinders are long behind her." He gazed down at his child, his head abruptly pulled up to look into his wife's chocolate brown orbs. Pride tightened in his chest.
" I'm thinking about calling 'er Sabrina. Sabrina Shelby." She smiled broadly, warmth radiating from her in spite of her exhaustion.
"Wonder what your going to be eh? A wife and mother? A spy? Trouble perhaps?" He mussed as he gently tugged at the blanket checking out her perfect tiny red fingers.
She squealed as if agreeing with the last word and the adults laughed. She had the Shelbys wrapped around her tiny molted fingers and she was only an hour old.
Tommy couldn't wait to introduce her at the next family meeting. After Esme was up and walking of course. No rush. This was perfect just the four of them right now.
"She is a Shelby girl, eh, already chiming in. " He laughed at his daughter. She was perfect.
Do you think Esme knew that John cheated on her, probably many times,what do you think she thought and how do you think she reacted? i personally see her as somoene who gets mad about this stuff, but i've also seen opinions of people saying she was probably alright with it,or she didn't care or she was suspicious about it but never got into it and ignored it.
I think Esme expected him to cheat when he was away, and that's why she fought so hard to have him home. I don't think she was alright with it, but I expect she dealt with it while trying to get him away from his family.
She said numerous times that she was stuck pregnant at home while John was off running around, and she seemed jealous of his freedom. John didn't take her out to events unless they were family events like weddings, so it's not like she was out at the Garrison with him on a Friday night. That said, John only seemed to cheat when he was out of town.
He kissed a girl at the Eden I believe and he cheated at the Russians, but there's no real proof he cheated at home. I vaguely recall a conversation with Michael about him and Arthur sending girls to get abortions, but that sounded like it happened in their youth, not currently.
I think Esme and John fought a lot about many things, but mostly Esme hated how much hold Tommy had on everyone. I think she would have blamed Tommy for John's cheating as "peaky business." That said, I think getting married allowed John down as much as it slowed Esme down. He didn't really seem to cheat unless they were in another city on the town raising hell.
She finally got him to bed. It was 2 am and she was almost dead on her feet. The weight of the baby was killing her back.
"This man is more work than a bloody kid." She set the tea kettle down roughly on the cooker. The camomile was too hot to sip yet. By the time she woke back up to check on him it would be chilled.
"Can't win." She walked gently to their room mindful of which floor boards creaked under any weight. She held her tea close to her face taking in the soft flower notes to sooth her nerves as she observed him from the doorframe.
He was resting for once, on his back. She'd kept the candles burning, and promised him she'd keep some light going.
She could only imagine the muddy cold hell he'd endured in those restricting claustrophobic inducing tunnels. The shovels and whispers of german and threats coming through the earthen walls as they waited for death.
She shivered thinking about it.
Now they faced a new fear among new walls. This one in her home.
She'd called a doctor when he started speaking slower. He rarely spoke and when he did it was precise. His speech was starting to sound disjointed and his eyes weren't as focused as they should have been.
"Wake him every four hours." Easier said than done. Polly had loaned her a cloak for the bedside table. She hoped it worked, she didn't doubt Polly but her husband's fate was in her hands.
The babe in her tummy leapt up as if trying to help its mummy stay alert. She rubbed her stomach as she spoke hoping to settle it. " Calm down little one. Already a soldier looking out for another, eh?"
She sighed and placed her tea down on the bedside table. She leaned down listening to his breathing. So far so good.
She lifted the quilt and slipped inside next to him. Sleep would be impossible tonight.
The shrill screeching of the alarm bell caused both her and the babe to jump.She rolled over to silence the angry brass contraption.
It was Thomas's strong hand over hers to silence the bell that flooded her with both relief and anxiety.
"Thank God. Scared us half to death." She squeezed his hand tightly as she exhaled.
"I'm sorry Esme, trying to let you sleep some. Didn't mean to frighten the devil out of you and the little one." He kissed her jaw, his voice deep with sleep still.
He was alive. She turned her head aware of their proximity. She could smell the antiseptic on him.
His face was pleasant and serene. Rested. They weren't out of the woods yet.
"I have bread and eggs." She said softly. She didn't know if she was too loud. He looked like death yesterday. Her breath ghosted gently across his face.
" Could you make toast with eggs please Esme." He cleared his throat, He made no move to release her from bed. They both enjoyed the stillness.
"I 'ave bacon." She grinned and her chocolate brown orbs danced when he groaned. She had made a bit extra doing some washing for the family. She was glad now that she spent the extra coping on meat.
" Bacon." He rubbed her stomach and laid his head gently on her rounded womb. She stroked his head gently as one would a pet. She loved these moments. He wasn't Thomas Shelby the gangster, he was Thomas Shelby, her husband and father to their unborn child.
These moments meant more than all the paper he chased and gold rings on her fingers.
"I'm glad to hear from you again. How's your head?" She asked as she shifted to get more comfortable.
" Hurts but that could also be the whiskey." She smiled faintly. " He's not helping, kicking with all his might." Thomas kissed her belly and continued his gentle caress.
"Like his father eh, coming out swinging." They both chuckled. "Let me out of the cotton confines. I have to start cooking for three people." He laughed and lifted the sheets. The warmth is leaving with her.
He followed her though. He wanted to stay in her sight. It was comforting to both she suspected.
Shadows passed the window.
"How many are on patrol? Tell them I'm fine Esme, send them away." His voice was weary and he groaned as he sat at the kitchen table. She had reacted to the sentries so they must be blinders.
"Moss wouldn't patrol tonight, says unless contact is made don't wake him up. Close your curtains, keep your lamps on so there are no dark shadowy corners in your house." She made him tea and quickly placed it in front of him hoping it would help. " John is out there keeping watch, he's a good soldier and brother."
"Ai, that he is. Thank you John." Thomas nodded.
"Your precious copper won't do his job." Esme had a bone and she wasn't forgiving when someone spotted her family. He smiled thinking about their future children and the scraps they would get into.
"No, Moss is only in it for a handsome sum, usually after it starts to get too messy for him to explain or handle on his own." He'd known for a while the Moss wasn't in the best position to serve the Peaky Blinders interests.
" I closed all the curtains, checked the lock, lit lamps and he told me to take your gun out." He grunted in approval. John had told her right.
'I'll handle the gun. I know the shadows of the house and the creaks in the floor boards." Thomas sat up straighter and braced his arms as if he was getting up.
"You need your rest Tommy. Sit!" Her tone left no room to argue.
"I' dont rest Esme. " He looks out of the window, starts head counting. "You and the baby need your sleep too. " he could see she wasn't satisfied. " After breakfast we'll all lay down again." He stared at her until she relented.
"Promise!" She wouldn't let him go without his word. He pinched the bridge of his nose.
"When haven't I kept my word as fast as you're concerned." he nodded and mouthed yes. "Promise."
She smiled and continued cooking, satisfied with his answer.
Warnings: Language. Illegal activities. Sex. They're criminals, guys, they do bad things.
Shout out to @peakyplatypus for the song rec and title ... It's so perfect I could kiss you. Instead, have a story.
John Shelby didn't know what to do with a girl that stayed.
Yes, he had been married before. He and Martha had barely been more than children playing house before the war scooped him up and made him a man. John was being hardened by the battlefield while Martha passed away with a baby in her arms. Both were buried before he could come home, and Aunt Polly took the rest of his clan in with Finn until the boys returned as hardened men.
Since Martha, he hadn't brought a woman home. He played. He sported. Desks, closets, whorehouses, but never where the kids slept. Never in his bed. Never in his home.
John didn't know what to do with Esme.
Their wedding consummation had been delayed thanks to Ada going into labor during their reception. The men were sent off to drink and Esme joined the Shelby women to help Ada as if she had always belonged. They both returned to John's home in the wee hours of the morning, tense and exhausted.
He had woken up with her curled in the crook of his arm. They stumbled about each other, hesitant but willing. John had stolen a kiss as she cooked breakfast for the kids the next morning before he left.
John would think of her while out and about. Her eyes held lightning that John had never seen. Her hair was wild and long, so different from the current style women were wearing. Modern women wanted modern style. Esme was different.
He came home that second night with flowers. He handed her the expensive bouquet and gave her a chaste kiss on the cheek. She gave a tight smile as she rushed to put them in a vase, and John bristled.
“Everyone behave?” He asked nervously. “Do I need to sort out anyone on your behalf?”
“The kids were kids,” she shrugged as she fluffed the flowers, setting them on the dining table before wiping her hands on her dress.
“I made supper,” she said, bouncing on her heels before heading toward the kitchen to finish making plates.
John followed after, watching from the doorway. Esme blew a curl out of her face as she loaded her arms with plates. She frowned as she noticed he was staring before she tilted her head.
“Just not used to a woman, is all,” John murmured. “It's… nice.”
Esme gave a small smile as the tension left her eyes.
“Get used to it, Mr. Shelby,” she joked softly. “You've got a new little wife to please now.”
He caught himself looking at her while she was just tidying or minding the children. Esme was gorgeous. She was everything the Shelby genes weren't: dark hair, dark eyes, and alive. In the week they had been married, she had already breathed life and light into everything.
The children took to her immediately, calling her mom and tugging at her skirts. She'd run and play with them, carefree as a child, and they loved her for it.
He could feel the air lighten in his home. Like cobwebs being swept away and a window opening to a spring breeze after a long winter. She made it feel like a home again.
They spent the week dancing around each other, somewhere between stranger and couple, watching every twitch to learn each other.
John was constantly gone, day and night, on Peaky business. Sometimes she was already asleep when he came in. On the off chance she was awake, they would both awkwardly move around the room to change, getting into bed but no one making a move.
John wasn't sure what to do. They were married but practically strangers. This wasn't a one night stand; she was his wife. A bad night could make a bad marriage. John was increasingly frustrated through the week, unsure what to do.
“Well, how's the wife, eh?” Arthur nudged him one afternoon at the betting shop as the brothers broke from business. “She as sweet as she looks?”
John hummed as he looked down, he could feel his collar get warm.
“S’hard to start things,” he mumbled. “With the kids and all…”
“You haven't consummated the marriage?” Tommy asked sharply.
John shrugged sheepishly.
“No, no, no,” Tommy said as Arthur clasped John on the shoulder. “It's not a marriage until you do. She could go back to her family and annul the whole thing. The treaty. This won't do, brother.”
“Get Pol to watch the kids,” Arthur said with a wink. “Take her out. She's probably been buzzing from being home all week. Impress her with a night out at the pub and then get it done.”
“Tonight,” Tommy said. “Right now. Go. I'll let Pol know you're dropping the kids off.”
John nodded and headed for the door.
“Give her hell, John boy!” Arthur yelled behind him. “Give me that fifth niece or nephew, brother.”
John heard snickers behind him as he raised his collar and stepped onto the road. With luck, he'd get home before Esme started dinner.
He scooped up some flowers from a pot or two as he walked home, even finding a few wildflowers in a ditch, and hastily made a bouquet before he opened the door to his home.
“M’home!” He called out, hearing the kids running and laughing somewhere in the house.
He found them running around Esme, who was sitting on the floor covering her eyes as she sang some sort of song.
Esme jumped to chase the children but stopped as she realized John stood in the doorway.
“Pack up the kids,” John said with a small smile. “Find a pretty dress. I'm taking you out tonight.”
Esme beamed as she wiped her hands on her dress.
“Those for me?” She looked at the flowers at his side.
“Yuh,” he nodded as he handed them to her. She inhaled their scent with a smile.
“Go get yourself pretty, wife. I'll handle these heathens.”
John let out a growl before he wiggled his fingers and ran at the children, earning giggles all around.
“Pack your pajamas before the monster gets you!” He said as he chased them into their rooms. “Off to Aunt Polly you go!”
Moments later, the kids were carrying their bags as John ushered them through the house. Esme came out of their bedroom in a knee length strappy black dress with a cream embroidered shall. Her hair was down but pinned away from her face. John let out a low whistle.
“Shall we be off, then?” Esme smiled.
They dropped the kids at Polly’s, earning an amused nod from his aunt before he took Esme's hand and kissed her knuckles. He led her through the streets to the pub as the sun set.
John nodded to Harry as they entered the Garrison and he pulled Esme into the closed corner booth. Esme slipped in the wooden booth as John slid in beside her. Moments later, Harry appeared with two glasses and a bottle of whiskey.
“Ma'am,” Harry nodded to her before disappearing back to the bar.
John began to pour the whiskey for them. Esme craned her neck to look out to the crowd through the crack as the door closed.
“Want to sit out there?” John asked as he handed her the drink. “I could scare up a table, I'm sure.”
“I've just been surrounded by kids for so long,” Esme said as she sipped the drink with a wince. “Nice to see adults.”
John nodded, standing up and opening the door, glancing over the packed tables.
“Oy, Isaiah!” John shouted as he waved the boy over.
“The lady wants a table to people watch,” John said into Isaiah's ear over the commotion of the pub. “Sit the boys in here and we'll take yours.”
John extended his hand to Esme, helping her out of the booth, as Isaiah nodded with a knowing smile.
“No problem, boss, I've got it covered,” he said as he grabbed the whiskey and walked back to the table.
“Out, fuckers,” Isaiah said, slamming the whiskey on the table in from of the young Peaky boys. “A boss wants the table, and we've lucked out to the VIP booth. Get a move on.”
The boys stood and hollered as they made their way past John and Esme.
“Don't fucking break anything,” John yelled over his shoulder. “Tommy will be there in the morning. If anything is broken, you'll fucking clean this entire pub with your tongue.”
John twirled Esme to the table, kissing her hand one more time before sitting her at the table. She smiled, happily watching the pub around them.
John placed his coat on her chair before sitting down, pouring himself another glass. Esme continued to sip hers. John's knee bounced as he looked around.
“Why haven't you bedded me?” Esme said, breaking their silence as she ran a finger along the rim of her glass, looking at him with those large brown eyes.
John gulped.
“I've had men,” she continued earnestly. “And you have quite the reputation of having women.”
“Could you be with child?” John said, hesitating as he leaned back.
“Travelers know what herbs to take,” Esme scowled. “They called me wild, not stupid.”
“Oh,” John said, rubbing the back of his neck.
“You'll have to do better than that,” Esme frowned, leaning back to mirror him. “Acting as if your wife is a trollop is far from dropping my knickers.”
“I didn't mean –”
“You did, John Shelby,” she said. “Don't start lying to me now. I'm fact, let's make a promise not to lie.”
John opened his mouth to protest as Esme downed her whiskey with a scowl.
“I know your brothers don't want women in their real business,” she said, waving his protest away. “But don't lie to me, promise.”
John swallowed, a small nod.
“This was arranged,” Esme said. “Neither of us had much choice. I'm sure something will grow, but I have no interest in being left dumb in the dark with the children at my skirts. I can help.”
John snorted.
“What do you know of betting horses?” John asked with a smile.
“Nothing yet,” Esme smiled sweetly. “You haven't taught me. If Lizzie and Polly can help, so can I.”
“Like it or not, I'm your partner,” Esme continued as she poured herself another glass. “Treat me as such.”
“You want to be an equal, eh?” John said, eyeing his new wife. “Want the truth about our late nights? Every cut throat and explosion is yours, then.”
Esme nodded thanks, sipping her drink.
“That's a good boy,”she murmured into her drink. “Perhaps there's a chance, after all.”
John's ears pinked.
“Got a mouth on you, don't you woman?” He said as he grabbed the bottle back.
“Does a lot more than talk, too,” she shot back, lightning streaking across her big brown eyes.
John stilled. He watched Esme as she smirked, shuffling her shawl on her shoulders. The pub was packed, but it all fell away as he studied her. The defiance in her eyes, the squared shoulders. The drink on her lips, the alcohol in her veins already blew her brown eyes black and quickened her breath. The flush on her skin.
“Let's get out of here,” John said, chewing on his cheek.
“Short night,” she jeered. “This what I'm to expect as a Shelby wife?”
“I didn't say we were going home.”
John stood and pulled her chair out, picking up his jacket for her to wear.
Esme looked at him for a moment before slipping his jacket on. He grabbed the whiskey bottle and held his other hand out for her to take. Esme took his hand and he led her back outside.
They walked quietly through the dark streets, few people passing by. He stopped in front of a stable.
“Ready to steal a horse?’ John asked, letting go of her hand while handing her the whiskey.
“What?” Esme asked, confused.
“Surely you know how to ride,” John nudged.
“Of course,” Esme answered.
“Good,” John smirked. “You got a hair pin, by chance?”
Esme pulled a pin from her hair, cascading her dark curls back into her face.
“That's my girl,” John murmured, taking the pin and jiggling it in the padlock.
“Here,” Esme said as she stepped forward, handing him a second pin. “This should help.”
John smiled, cupping her face with his hand before pulling her close. He kissed her softly, his tongue grazing her lip before deepening the kiss for a moment. He pulled back, took the second pin and returned to the lock as Esme stood dazed.
“You're welcome,” she said softly as she ran a finger over her lips.
The lock clicked and dropped to the ground. John swung the gate open, arms wide.
“After you,” he hummed, dipping into a playful bow.
Esme grinned as she walked in, taking stock of the horses in the stalls. She gasped when she saw a black stallion in the end stall.
“Oh he's beautiful, John,” she gasped.
John chuckled, taking a bridle off the wall. He grabbed Esme's hand and twirled her before stepping between her feet and pushing her back into the neighboring stall door. He kissed her deeply as she froze and slowly thawed out to match his kiss. He broke the kiss, lips still touching hers.
“Stay right here.”
John stepped back, took a deep breath, and opened the stallion's stall door. The horse began to protest, but John's low voice won it over quickly. He slipped the bridle over it and led it out to Esme.
She patted the horse's neck, admiring the gorgeous creature. With no hesitation, she ran her hand along its back and hopped on. She nodded for John to do the same. John climbed on with a chuckle and less grace than his wife as the horse made a side step at the added weight.
“H-hullo?” A portly man mumbled as he opened the cracked door wider. “Why is this door unlocked?”
“Go,” John urged. “Now!”
Esme kicked hard and the horse shot past the man, who stumbled back a few steps.
“H-hey!” He yelled. “C-c-come back!”
Esme melted into the horse, her heart beating wild as the cold air nipped her cheeks. John let out a hoot behind her, holding onto her waist tightly as if the horse would bounce him off otherwise. They took off down the empty streets until they hit pasture and hills.
John laughed, loud and clear, as Esme kicked and the horse sped up in the dark wide open.
“Where we going, love?” He whispered into her ear as he leaned forward to hold her tighter. “You got a plan, darlin’?”
Esme chuckled, digging her heels in deeper. The hills gave way to wide open, the crescent moon barely illuminating their path. The horse gasped for air but listened as Esme pushed it harder and harder.
Just as John leaned closer to tell Esme to ease off, she began to slow the stallion down. They stopped at the top of a hill near a stretch of trees. John hopped off and took Esme into his arms as she jumped off. He twirled her round in the dark, both giggling as he kissed her neck, her ear, her cheek. She gently pushed away from him.
“We'll have to tie our new friend up if you plan to keep him,” she giggled between John's kisses.
“I'd rather tie you up,” John said playfully as he nipped her neck.
He stepped back and around Esme as he reached for the stallion's reigns, humming praise as he checked him over and tied him to a nearby branch.
“You're good with wild things,” she mused, biting her lip.
“Am I?” He asked, walking toward her and putting his arms around her inside his big coat.
John kissed her softly at first, attentively, until he felt Esme relax beneath him, and then he deepened the kiss. Esme's head spun, the stars twinkling above them as the world spun and she didn't know up from down. His touch burned her skin, grounding her while leaving her to spin. She was lost in him.
She felt her back hit a tree as John grabbed her hands and brought them above her head, pinned with one hand. The other hand lazily caressing down her body, learning every curve and reading every sigh.
“John Shelby,” she said breathily. “I think I know why your reputation precedes you.”
John nuzzled his nose against hers, chuckling as he lifted her dress up to her thighs. His knee pinned between her legs as he undid his trousers, letting them sag. He kissed her neck softly as his hand gently squeezed her thigh, lifting her leg up to his waist.
Esme moaned as he slid inside her painstakingly slowly. She gasped as he filled every inch of her and held her there as he kissed a trail along her neck.
“You've got goosebumps, love,” he chuckled into her ear as she began to squirm. “Need me to move, eh? Move in and out of that pretty little cunt for my good girl.”
“Yes, John, yes,” Esme whispered excitedly as she fought to break her hands free. “That's it, more. Be a good boy.”
John's speed picked up as Esme's breath hitched, both of them building excitement for each other. He finally let her hands go and grab her jaw as he crashed his lips into hers, kissing deeply as they scrambled to be closer, deeper, together.
“More,” Esme breathed as she leaned back to breathe. “More, that's it.”
“More, more, more,” John said in time to thrusts. “Greedy, aren't we, Mrs. Shelby? I'll fill that greedy cunt with children.”
Esme gasped as her walls clenched him tightly, John covering her passionate cry with his own mouth as his thrusts stuttered with his own orgasm.
They kissed slower, riding their orgasms as he stayed inside her. Their highs slowly leaving as the world around them came back into focus.
John gently pulled himself out of her and put himself back into his trousers. Esme pulled her skirts back down to relieve herself of the cold air. John smiled lazily as he reached out for her hand.
“Care to lie here and watch the stars a moment?” John said softly. “I'll keep you warm, love.”
Esme smiled as she took off his coat to lay on the ground away from the trees. John sat first and guided her down across his chest. They laid there, watching the bright stars in the otherwise dark night.
“Sometimes I forget you're one of us,” Esme said, drawing circles on his chest. “You don't carry yourself right. You've been inside too long.”
“I wasn't raised in the country, but we were always moving around,” he murmured. “The war drilled all the rules in. Listen or die. So I adapted. Doesn't take the want of freedom out, just boxes it for a bit.”
“It comes back in your eyes,” she said as she raised up on her elbow to meet the outline of his face. “When you forget your brother's ambitions. Stealing that horse, you were light again. I could feel it.”
“Dad used to tell fortunes,” he shrugged. “Tell people their horse would go missing. They'd be amazed when it did. No one ever realized he'd send me and Tommy out to steal ‘em while he was in plain view. No one could blame him for the theft and he'd earn more credit for his predictions.”
“Always liked horses,” John said.
Esme giggled, placing a kiss on his lips before returning her head to his chest.
“Esme,” John said hesitantly. “I've got a bit of truth to tell you, seeing as we agreed not to lie.”
Esme hummed as she stiffened waiting for his truth.
“The stallion is not technically stolen,” John said sheepishly. “It's Tommy's. The man that went to stop us is Curly, a family friend. We should probably return it before he tells Uncle Charlie.”
“Then why did you tell me we were stealing?” Esme asked.
“I liked the way your face lit up when I said it,” John said. “You didn't like the florist shop flowers. You liked the wild ones. I thought I'd give you a bit of wild again.”
Esme was silent for a moment, fingers still making circles along his chest as John waited for her reply.
“John Shelby,” Esme said quietly. “I think this is going to be a good match, indeed.”
“You'll have to do better than that,” Esme frowned, leaning back to mirror him. “Acting as if your wife is a trollop is far from dropping my knickers.”
“I didn't mean –”
“You did, John Shelby,” she said. “Don't start lying to me now. In fact, let's make a promise not to lie.”
John opened his mouth to protest as Esme downed her whiskey with a scowl.
“I know your brothers don't want women in their real business,” she said, waving his protest away. “But don't lie to me, promise.”
