One evening, Shelagh asks for clarification from Patrick. Who knew Fred could cause such consternation?

Just a wee bit on the steamy side…

The bedroom was dimly lit by Patrick’s reading lamp as Shelagh closed the door. “Sound asleep, the little angel,” she informed her husband.

Patrick glanced up from his novel. “She should be, she was passed around like a football all day at Nonnatus, I’m sure.”

“Oh, she loved it. She never so much as peeped.” Shelagh sat at her vanity and began to brush her hair. “Sister Julienne said Angela is the most sweet-natured child she’s ever seen .”

“Oh, well, if Sister Julienne says so…” Patrick teased.

Shelagh turned to face him, smiling. “If Sister Julienne says so it must be true. She says you’re the best of men.”

“Well, if Sister Julienne says so…” Patrick winked.

Shelagh, finished with her nighttime routine, stood and walked to the bed. Her eyebrows were wrinkled in concentration, her mouth pursed. “Patrick?” she asked.

“Hmmm?” Patrick was enjoying his book, but knew better than to ignore his wife.

“I heard Fred say something today. I’m sure he didn’t know I was there; he was quite embarrassed when he saw me.” Shelagh fidgeted with the tie to her dressing gown.

Patrick put his book down. “I’m sure he didn’t mean to offend you, sweetheart. He was just being Fred.”

Nodding her head, Shelagh answered, “Oh, I’m sure he meant nothing by it. It’s just that, well, I’m not quite sure I understood what he meant.”

He noted the rising blush on her cheeks. This was going to be interesting. “Why don’t you just tell me what you heard  then, and we’ll see if I can help.”

Taking a deep breath, Shelagh shed her dressing gown, revealing her demure white cotton nightdress. Patrick hid a smile. Shelagh thought that the simple sleeveless style of this nightdress was proof against temptation while Patrick thought that a winter coat was enticement to marital bliss.

Her back to him, Shelagh blurted out, “What’s a leg man?”

Patrick was surprised the sound of his jaw hitting the floor did not wake the children. He gulped. “Leg man?”

“Yes. Fred was telling Mr. Hitchens that he was more of a leg man. I didn’t hear anything before that, and he stopped as soon as he saw me. Judging by the look on his face, it  wasn’t something he wanted me to hear. So, what does it mean?”

Assuming a serious face, Patrick coaxed his wife into their bed. “Well, sweetheart, as a medical man, I am fairly certain it was a reference to a particular part of the female anatomy. Mr. Buckle, it seems, likes to look at a lady’s legs.”

“Oh,” she squeaked. The light blush that had appeared across her cheeks now was a rosy red, spreading own her throat. Knowing better than to push the subject, Patrick waited for the question he knew was coming. This was better than any spy novel, anyhow.

Gaining her equilibrium back, Shelagh took charge. “So, then Doctor Turner, are you a leg man, as well?”

He eyed her seriously, as if examining her. “Well, your legs are really quite lovely. Truly.” His hand pulled the hem of the nightdress up, slowly revealing the pretty limbs. “And you have the sweetest bum I have ever seen-”

“Patrick!”

He tilted his head, studying his wife. “You want my honest opinion, don’t you? Well, empirically, as a medical man, your bottom is perfection. It curves just so, and-”

“Patrick! Really!” She jumped as his hand squeezed her flesh.

He laughed and brought  his head close to hers, nose to nose. His fingers went to the tiny buttons of the nightdress, slowly revealing her creamy skin “I  should think you know my weakness by now, love.”

Shelagh sighed. Her fingers tangled in his hair as she whispered, “I think you’ll have to help me understand, dearest…”