Joan Champernowne Chamber.

He smiled earnestly, taking both her hands to his lips while his bright eyes looked into hers, "We shall see each other soon," he said lowly and kissed her hands.

Anthony then ambled down the corridor with hands clasped behind his back, shoulders relaxed and a confident smile upon his lips.

Anthony felt more at ease now he had spent time with his sister. She always spoke sense but there was a kindness in her heart - it reminded him of his family home, being a child and so he was unperturbed by the prospect of seeing Joan...perhaps the wine helped brighten his mood as well.

He tried the door handle and it opened stiffly - creaking with a low moan as he stepped into the room. The fire was burning but the candles had been blown out. He glanced about the room until he finally detected Joan in the bed. He shut the door and discarded his boots and coat, leaving them by the chair. As he padded lightly to the bed - his heart swelled. She looked peaceful asleep, she looked as she did when he first me her on the steps. Unruly hair and rosy cheeks.

"Are you awake?" he whispered and sat on the corner of the bed.

He nodded and crawled upon the bed, "I am. I saw Abby and she put me in a good mood - she is doing very well."

He glanced at her sideways, his arms tucked behind his head, "I don't want to be fighting with you."

He wrapped one arm casually around her back - more out of habit than anything, "We shall - you and I - be alright. We shall forget this whole situation."

His mind stumbled upon what Abigail had speculated when he was with her and though he smiled as she moved closer to him - he became preoccupied with worry. He looked up to her with a sigh and finally said, "Abigail said...well she wondered if you were..."

He trailed off. The idea of that responsibility ignited such fear in him but also a strange sort of happy hope. He assumed it was too soon but it would make sense...

He shook his head with a little grumble, "I'm sure you're not but she wondered if our arguing was due to your...well you having a change in hormones."

He chuckled, "It's foolish to suggest but we considered the possibility of you being - pregnant. I was sure it was much too soon but...well...it would explain things."

He grinned, completely relieved and happy. He sat up so he faced her and kissed her hungrily, "I'm glad," he mumbled.

He lay back casually with a sigh and looked up to her again, "I think it's a bit soon don't you? And we have been arguing...it's hardly an ideal place for a baby."

He glanced to the roof, "We still hardly know one another."

He laughed, "Learn to be a wife? What will they teach you at the market?"

He - for once - didn't feel it was right to lie with her, not now. They had been arguing and were only just talking now. He didn't want to just take her to bed to stop bickering - if that was the way they solved their arguments they would end up having a huge brood of children.

He added, "And I do want to...but I don't think we should resort to that every time we have a disagreement."

"Ah yes," he said the playfully, "The key to being a good wife is excellent flower arranging."

He then in one movement, rolled so he had her pinned her down. He smirked playfully, "Perhaps...that is, for the sake of tradition, we should do more than cuddle."

It didn't take much for the lust to consume him - as it so often did. His neck grew hot, and his manhood hardened as he heard her seductive proposition - her hands clutched onto him. He began to tug impatiently at her dress, pulling it past her shoulders and revealing her plump breasts. Then he pulled away his breeches, revealing his hard and eager manhood.

"Make it up to me then, " he said playfully and seductively.