Chapter Text
Your husband was wonderful. You walked through the house in a daze, softly smiling to yourself. The servants giggled sometimes when they saw you staring in the distance, lost in thought with a smile on your face. Like they knew your thoughts.
You were happy to be married to such a wonderful man. A hero, a kind and righteous man. You were happy cousin Steven chose him for your husband. Every night he asked you if you were willing to perform marital duties and you happily accepted. His body was imprinted in your head, every glorious inch. You found yourself sketching him absentmindedly, not even aware what you were doing, even if you were trying to draw some flowers. You were sure to have a happy marriage.
Until the evening you were to join a soiree at the Drysdales. It was your first outing together as husband and wife, and you had dressed up to perfection. You wanted Bucky to be proud of you. When he called out to you when it was time to leave, you were once again amazed how well he looked all dressed up and hair brushed into place. He was so handsome you'd rather stay home and retreat for the night. But you needed to face society some day. And you were ready to meet with old friends like Lady Drysdale.
You arrived at the Drysdales house excited, not only for the entertainment of the evening, but to see your friend, the lady of the house. After her marriage you didn't see her for months. You assumed married life had taken all her attention, but you could not say you hadn't missed her. Fortunately you would have time to converse with her tonight and see her new house and meet her husband. You had not known Lord Drysdale very well, but you had always considered him to be withdrawn and a bit unpleasant. He never danced at parties and stayed away from most conversation, choosing to stand in corners where he seemed to amuse himself observing the other attendees. Yet, it was a very convenient match for your friend, and you hoped her husband treated her well.
When you were greeted by her she did seem happy, glowing even! Her dress adjusted to her current state, you thought she looked beautiful. You hoped to be blessed with a child soon as well. Bucky would make a lovely father. Warmth shot through you with the visual of him playing with your children, of a house filled with love and a big family. You fondly pressed your friend's hand and wished her all the good you could think of in the future. She was pleased to see you too, and you hoped you would be able to have an opportunity to talk more privately this evening.
It was a pleasant evening and you enjoyed yourself tremendously. The food was prepared to perfection and Lord Drysdale paid no mind for expenses to make his guests as comfortable as they could be. There was enough to speak about since one of the common guests was missing, having heard rumors of sickness and a retreat to the seaside in hopes of recovery. You hadn’t been close to the lady herself, but you hoped she would get better, knowing her mother had been taken ill before passing and you hoped she would not share a similar fate.
Your eyes met cousin Steven, who had watched you apparently, a pleased expression on his face when he saw the affection between you and your new husband.
You smiled back at him brightly, meaning to converse with him later in the evening as well. You owed him much gratitude after all.
At dinner you sometimes saw a woman throwing looks his way. Unlike how most women looked at him, she wasn't looking displeased, but you couldn't place her expression. She seemed lost in thought, looked away and then looked at him again.
You hoped it meant she would show some interest in him. Steven was ready for a wife, you knew he had always wanted to marry and have a family, it would be very lonely by himself in your former house. He might not be the kind of man that caught a woman's attention immediately, but he was a good man, loyal and righteous. You leaned over to your seating partner and politely asked him if he knew of the lady, intent on gathering some information about her.
The evening passed quickly with all the distractions it provided, and while some of the men gathered in one of the rooms to play cards and smoke, the ladies decided to make some music and talk amongst themselves. You and your friend were able to sit together and chat amongst yourselves. She was happy, she told you, Ransom was good to her, there was love in their marriage and you were happy to inform her your marriage was a success as well. The two of you giggled delightedly, happy for yourself and each other.
When the night was over, you were a bit disappointed to go home, but you were tired and you wanted to spend some alone time with your husband.
He had been lost in thought the whole way back in the carriage, but you figured he was probably tired as well. You told him about the gossip you heard, while he hummed and took to watching you instead of conversing back.
At home you had one of the maids helping you out of your clothes and into your nightgown, but once you were in bed, Bucky did not touch you and turned his back to go to sleep.
Slightly disappointed you also turned to rest, wishing he would at least hold you, until your eyelids felt heavy.
-
Something was terribly wrong. Since that evening, Bucky barely talked to you, and had stopped touching you completely. He greeted you in the morning and wished you goodnight, he informed you of any information you needed to know and asked if your pin money was enough for your purchases, or if you needed use of the carriage, but he didn't talk to you, conversation halted besides the necessity.
He seemed sad. You worried something had happened to him, but he seemed so withdrawn you didn't know how to bring it up. You felt yourself rushed with insecurities that you had somehow done something wrong. Embarrassed your husband, maybe you had said something? Did you misbehave at the party? You thought and thought but couldn't find anything that reflected poorly on you.
Had he already grown tired of you? You did not believe you could take it if he had. To live your whole life with an indifferent husband, to harely converse and pretend in public. Tears gathered in your eyes. This would not do!
Another morning of Bucky leaving the house as soon as he had eaten breakfast, visiting Steve or helping whoever was in need. It was admirable, if you didn't feel it was simply to avoid you. He came home late, ate dinner with you in silence besides the occasional superficial questions how your day went, and laid with his back turned towards you in bed.
It was a week later you tried to shyly touch him, your hand reaching out to be placed gently on his shoulder. He stiffened and you froze. As he moved away far enough for your hand to fall off of him, your heart clenched in pain and you suppressed a sob as you too turned your back on him. Silently crying through the night, hurt and confused.
Days were gloomy after. Your appetite diminished and nothing took your attention away from the rejection your husband gave you.
The servants were nervous around you, throwing you secret glances, aware something was obviously wrong but it wasn't their place to ask.
Weeks passed and you lost weight and the will to do anything about it. It was terribly inconvenient that your dear friend decided to visit you, you did not feel up to being any decent company. However, you could not turn her away, even if she seemed shocked at the state you were in.
Sitting down you offered her tea and she accepted, but as soon as the maid had left the room she was quick to ask you what the matter was. Had you fallen ill? You declined, though you did not feel well. You could not tell her what the real problem was. That your husband was disappointed and already bored of you.
She, radiant with such happiness, while you were despairing. You felt too ashamed to admit. But she urged you to share your worries, and though you tried to be vague she would not let you.
“I am worried, you look faint. Maybe the doctor should be called?” She once again told you.
“I do not need a doctor. I am perfectly well.”
“You do not look well. You have lost a lot of weight and you look like you haven't slept in days.”
Weeks more like it. As you stared at the back of your husband knowing he was too repulsed by you to even face you.
“I will tell your husband he needs to take better care of you,” she suddenly said, lips pressed in anger.
You looked up, panicked. He would only find you more of a burden. “No. He does not want me to bother him more than I already do.”
She sat silently, watching you for a while. “Whatever do you mean?”
And you broke. All those weeks of insecurities, of pain, coming out all at once. “He loathes me!”
“Don't be foolish, I saw how he looked at you, with all the love a man can have for his wife.”
“Not anymore. I must've done something,” you despaired and sobbed into your hands.
She rushed forward and came to sit next to you and patted your shoulder gently. “Poor thing. Tell me what's been going on, do not keep this burden alone.”
So you did. You told her everything you felt, and she listened quietly until you were finally all cried out and exhausted.
“Did I tell you how Ransom treated me at first?” She told you with a small smile on her lips. And then you listened while she told you about how lonely and deprived she had been, and how Ransom had not responded to her too kindly at first.
“But we eventually talked, and now we are as close as we can be. You need to talk to Bucky and not let him refuse you anymore. He is your husband, and he can't treat you this way. You were happy in the beginning, were you not? That love must still be there. Talk to him!”
When she left you were full of conviction. Bucky and you were going to work through this. You had to!
-
You waited until you were alone and undressed. It felt more intimate, and you hoped that seeing you so vulnerable and bare meant he would not just leave. You hoped he was willing to tell you what you had done wrong, so you could hopefully apologize and make him forgive you.
“Bucky, I do not know what I did wrong, but if you tell me I will not do so again. Please I can not bear it if you do not even look at me.” You pleaded, just as he sat down on the bed to lay down.
He seemed shocked as he turned his head to look at you, the expression all over his face. He swallowed and then mumbled, “You did not do anything wrong.”
“But you don't talk to me, you don't even look at me. You have been angry ever since we left that party and I must've done something to aggrieve you so.” You started crying again.
He looked terribly conflicted, like he was the one in pain, not you. “It is not you.” He eventually spoke.
“How could it not be? You are regretting our marriage. Somehow I have turned you away from me.”
He turned towards you completely and his arm stretched out towards you, before halting it and retreating it back to his side. He looked lost. “No, I do not regret it, but I know I have wronged you.”
“How?” You wondered, so confused as you wrecked your mind to figure out what he was telling you.
He bit his lip, but the sight of your tears seemed to have made up his resolve and he blurted out. “You had to marry a broken man. A man not whole. How can I expect you to take care of a man like me for the rest of our lives? It was selfish. I shouldn't have married you.”
It hurt to hear. “Am I that awful to you? So repulsive you wish to have never married me?”
“What do you mean? Of course not. You are perfect. I am telling you I am not. I am lacking. And I have thrust myself upon you to take that burden. You could have married someone better. Someone…someone who's not missing an arm! I can not hold you the way you are supposed to. If you fell, I could not carry you! There's things I can't do because my arm is not there and I can't expect you to care for me!” He explained and a blush appeared that covered his cheeks, so red and angry, expressing how upset he was. It was shame. He was resenting his own body and what he needed, like it mattered to you!
“I knew that before I married you,” you told him, having calmed down after his outburst.
“But you were in need of a husband, your own household. I know that. I had thought it might be a perfect solution. I wanted a wife and you were so lovely when I met you. And you were in need yourself, I thought it would work out, but now…”
“Now, you do not?” You whispered dejectedly.
“Now I realize the burden I have placed upon you.”
“I do not see you as a burden, Bucky. I see a man. A man who I chose to marry and who I chose to love.”
He looked upon you frozen, so you decided to continue. “I see someone kind, someone who made me comfortable on our wedding night. Who made me so happy! I was so grateful for cousin Steven to introduce us.”
“You are not ashamed?” He whispered brokenly. “To be with a man like me? To see everyone looking at me and laugh, and pity you for being tied to me?”
“What happened that evening?” You demanded. “It was when we left you were not yourself, something must've happened.”
He fell silent.
“If you do not tell me I am forced to believe you have become tired of me, that I somehow am not a good wife and you wish to send me away.”
He looked back up to you again quickly. “No, never!”
“Then tell me. Please.” You begged.
“It was after, when we went to smoke.” He said quietly. “I had spoken to Drysdale about a new investment, so I was in a good mood. I went to join a game of cards, but I overheard some of the men. They were talking about how it is unfortunate I have lost my arm, that surely my wife is more of a caretaker to me and that I could never be a real man to you. That I lacked in every way a husband should be. I…I suddenly realized how much better it would be if you had married someone else.”
Your eyes had widened and you listened, shocked at his words. At the way he thought about himself. And anger, because those awful men had hurt him so.
“You believe I could pretend to be this happy with you?” And there was anger in your voice you could not hide. “That I was sullen to marry a man like you, and, what did you call it? ‘Lacking? Not a real man’? Have I given you any thought that I felt that way? You listen to men not worthy of another thought. Instead you should have looked at me and seen how happy I was. You have hurt me, husband. You have neglected me and dismissed me. I was all alone, thinking you would turn me away. I demand an apology.”
Wide eyed he was quick to do so, looking as stunned as ever.
You relaxed your shoulders, realizing the tension they were under. “Had you spoken to me, I would have told you how proud I am to be your wife, how kind and brave I find you. How I see your caring heart every day in the way you treat me and the way you speak to our servants. You are never too tired to help out those who need it. And with all this, you have made me happier than I ever have been. I am happy to be your wife, to be touched and loved by you. Your touch has brought me nothing but joy. I look at you and I do not see a lacking man. I see my heart connected to yours.”
His eyes urged you to continue, to convince him you were truly feeling this way.
“You are the most beautiful man I have ever seen and I can prove it because I have drawn you everyday since I saw you on our wedding night when you showed me the way a woman can love her husband and be loved in return. I will continue to draw you until you see yourself the way I see you. I will spread every drawing I have if anyone needs convincing you are perfect to me. I-”
He silenced you with a kiss. You mumbled, or tried to, but it was no use, he continued to swallow every word out of your mouth.
When he pulled back you tried once again. “I will love you until you never doubt it again.”
“Silence, wife. And let me show you how much I love you, then hopefully you will forgive your foolish husband for putting you through all his wrongdoings.”
“It might take a lot of convincing,” you tried to sound teasing, but the former hurt and insecurity still lingered inside of you, still too raw and new to completely be silenced.
“I will love you every day, and show you how proud I am of you that you are my wife. And I vow that I will never give you doubt again that I am happy beside you. I will forever prove myself to be worthy of you.”
“You are. You are, Bucky, you always have been. Just never stop talking to me again.”
“I promise.” He kissed you again. “I promise.” A kiss on your neck. “Promise.” Another above your breast. “I wholeheartedly promise.” He continued pressing his apologies and devotion into your skin.
You clung onto him as he undressed you and then himself, relieved to have him back in your arms. And once again you were in awe of his body.
Your fingers tracing the muscles as far as they should reach.
“Perfect,” you mumbled happily. “So beautiful.”
He chuckled, but you saw he was pleased. “Still not used to a man’s body?”
“Never used to seeing yours. you keep taking away my breath. While my heart pounds in my chest and my body trembles to be one with yours.“
He swallowed, eyes tracing your body beneath him.
“It always feels so good, and I wished I could paint you so I could always look upon you as you are now. Naked and mine.”
He became desperate for you after, hands touching everywhere, lips occupying yours until you were indeed trembling.
His fingers reaching your privates to pull wave after wave from your body, his manhood running against your sensitive folds but not giving you what you needed the most, until he had you shouting his name for the third time. And when he joined you, so perfectly fitting inside, you cried again, he murmured sweet loving words in your ear as he started moving.
How he was going to claim you again after this. How he hoped to start a family with you soon. How lovely he thought you were. The prettiest wife. How lucky he was to have gained you in his life.
You fluttered around him with each spoken reassurance. Desperate to hear how he wanted you.
The night was long from over, and the next morning had you sore but still willing when he reached for you as soon as he had awoken.
The servants were unsure how to move through the day, with the two of you not appearing at the table in the morning, and staying inside the bedroom well past what was proper. However, they were glad that their Master and Mistress had seemed to be happy again, surely this meant good news for everyone.
You and Bucky were happier than ever, telling each other daily how much you loved one another, and it did you well when after a few months, you were so obviously with child, you made sure to look every man you met at every event in the eye pointedly, wondering if these were the men that had insulted your husband before, so they could see that, clearly, Bucky wasn't lacking anywhere.