The Bet

Bonus chapter 1: Somewhere on the road to Liverpool

Marcus was secretly glad that his sons kicked him out of the carriage. They were traveling to Liverpool. He wished they had kicked out Frances too, but she was their partner in crime; they adored her. He always lost his cool when his sons got into a fight. More than once he had reduced them to tears.

The family stopped at an Inn for the night. His four sons ran around and caused a racket in the dining hall.

'I missed you,' Marcus said, hugging Frances once they retired to their room.

She blushed and said, 'You should travel with us tomorrow.'

'So you didn't miss me?'

'Only when Antony was being difficult,' she admitted guiltily.

'You are traveling with me tomorrow.'

'I am sure the kids won't kick you out.'

'Alone,' he added, making Frances blush again.

Marcus started kissing Frances trailing down the neckline. Slowly he divested her of her clothes. Her breathing hitched, he loved his wife with every fibre of his life. He slowly cupped her breast and squeezed.

Splash! He was drenched with milk.

'I am sorry, I forgot to express milk in the morning,' cried Frances.

'Wait here.' Marcus ordered and exited the room.

Oliver was one and half years old, he had weaned on his own. Still Frances' body has not adapted and still produced surplus breastmilk.

Marcus was back carrying a bowl and a few towels. He assured Frances to the bathroom and made her sit on a stool. He dipped the towel in warm water and gave a warm compress.

'It's less painful when you help me express the milk.'

'I will help you everyday.'

Marcus then carried Frances to the bathtub.

'Aren't you going to join me?' Frances asked

Marcus shook his head.

Frances asked nervously, 'Marcus, are you angry with me? Sorry I didn't expe-'

She was cut short as Marcus leaned in and kissed her.

'I am not angry with you. You hit me with a treacle tart when I proposed to you.'

'You are never going to forget that, are you?'

'Why would I want to forget one of the best days of my life?'

Marcus patted Frances dry and helped her into a bathrobe. She stifled a huge yarn, which was not missed by him. He chuckled and carried her to bed.

'Sleep, my love.' He kissed her brows and gently massaged her head.

'I love you, Marcus.' Frances mumbled as she pulled him closer sleepily. He felt warm as he closed his eyes, wrapping his arms around his wife.

Peaceful moments like this were always rather short-lived. Oliver came wailing like a banshee. He wiggled himself between both, pushing Marcus' hands off Frances while hugging her. Soon Issac joined them, kicking Marcus out of the bed.

Marcus wanted nothing more than to carry both his sons by the scruff of their necks, back to their room. Rather, Frances smiled warmly as she wrapped her hands around both his sons. She gestured with her eyes asking Marcus to lie on Oliver's side. Marcus slid into the bed beside Oliver, who promptly turned and hugged Marcus.

There was something exceedingly warm about being wrapped around by Oliver's little hands. Marcus fell asleep soon after.

'Dada.'

Marcus awoke to Oliver's voice. His vocabulary consisted of fewer words. He handed his sons to the nursemaids. Finally some alone time with his wife.