Chapter 7

Charmian lay in her narrow bed and stared into the darkness. The rain continued, slamming against the window and pounding against the tiled roof. But that wasn’t what kept her awake.

Since the weather turned bad this morning, she’d been rushed off her feet. She should have fallen into bed and gone straight to sleep. But here she lay open-eyed, feeling like the storm outside raged inside her as well.

The reason for that wasn’t hard to fathom. The reason lay on the floor in front of the fire wrapped in a blanket.

When her mother and aunt had cooked up the plan to get her away from home, they’d hoped to rescue her from the despair where she’d languished since leaving Roland. Or so they said. At the time, she should have guessed that some plot was afoot, but she’d been so heartsore that she hadn’t thought to question their decision to send her to help Aunt Janet.

They’d schemed to keep her out of a ruthless seducer’s clutches. Tonight the ruthless seducer lay silent on the far side of the room, with no designs on his wife’s body, damn it.

She hadn’t shared a room with a man since she’d run away from Roland. That was enough to make her restless. That, and those spectacular kisses that made her feel alive for the first time since they parted.

He’d kissed her as if he’d starved for her, then stepped away and acted like her brother. The passionate lover had given her grounds for optimism. The polite stranger made her feel like howling in denial.

Not to mention that those kisses had woken parts of her she’d done her best to ignore since coming to the Spotted Fox. There was a pulsing weight in the pit of her stomach and her blood raced with carnal desire.

Carnal desire that clearly she experienced alone.

Because instead of ripping her clothes off and uniting his body with hers, Roland had been kind and contained and considerate. He’d brought her hot water. He’d stepped outside while she washed and changed into her sensible white flannel nightdress. He’d hardly looked at her when he came back in to wish her good night and stretch out on the rag rug in front of the fire.

Charmian shifted again. She’d been doing a lot of that. She couldn’t seem to find a comfortable spot. Mad to say that the bed seemed too big, when it was small even for one person. But that was how it felt.

Roland hadn’t moved since lying down. He’d looked exhausted when he arrived at the inn. Then Janet had put him to work running up and down stairs and fetching and carrying. Charmian should be all wifely and be glad that he got some rest.

She was feeling wifely, but not about letting her husband sleep off his weariness. He’d said that he wanted her back. He’d said that he loved her. For pity’s sake, he’d kissed her into next Wednesday.

How dare he leave her lonely, while he slumbered in front of the fire?

She shifted again and told herself that she had no right to be annoyed. Instead, she should be grateful and hopeful and happy. She and Roland had a chance to make up for the past’s mistakes. She’d prayed for that to happen since she’d left him.

And it was Christmas Day. Surely that alone was cause for joy. A time for fresh starts and new plans.

As she lay yearning and stirred up and confused, Charmian didn’t feel joyful. She felt frustrated.

Sexual frustration was a familiar companion. But it verged on unbearable when the object of her interest was mere feet away, rather than kicking up his heels in the fleshpots.

She sighed and turned onto her side to face the wall. Perhaps if she couldn’t see him, she could pretend that her long-lost spouse wasn’t within reach. She tucked one hand under her cheek and blinked away stinging moisture. For pity’s sake, she’d already cried enough tears to fill an ocean. There shouldn’t be a drop of saltwater left inside her.

“Are you all right, Charmian?”

“Did I wake you?” She didn’t want to lie to him, but nor did she want to answer.

“I haven’t been asleep.”

He’d been so quiet, that surprised her. “I haven’t either. You don’t have to stay on the floor. There’s the chair, or if we squeeze in, we could share the bed.”

She thought that she heard a faint groan. Or perhaps a log shifted in the fireplace. “It’s a very narrow bed.”

She continued to stare at the wall. The view was misty. “Big enough for one.”

“I’m better where I am,” he said with a hint of grimness that she didn’t understand. “Are you crying?”

“No.” The choked denial proved her falsehood.

“I thought I heard you.”

“I just caught my breath.”

He wasn’t persuaded. She didn’t blame him. “I apologise for upsetting you.”

“It’s been…an overwhelming day.” Now you don’t want me, and I don’t know why.

“Yes, it has. I’m not sorry, though.”

“That you made me cry?”

He exhaled audibly. “No, of course not. I’m not sorry that we met and we’ve had the chance to talk.”

Talk. Yes, they’d done that. And needed to do more. But talk wasn’t what she wanted. At this moment, she wanted his arms around her. She wanted his spicy masculine scent in her nostrils and his warmth to banish the chill inside her. She wanted the hard thrust of his body and that moment of perfect intimacy when he filled the aching emptiness at her core.

Then she wanted the inexorable climb to ecstasy, the blast of sensual lightning at the peak, and the gentle drift back to earth afterward.

She wanted him to treat her the way that a man treated a woman he wanted.

It had been three long years since Roland had used her body. But she’d forgotten nothing. She was in a fever for him. Why on earth was he so far away?

“Charmian?” he asked when she didn’t reply. “Aren’t you glad we’ve reconciled?”

“Yes, of course,” she said. “We couldn’t have gone on as we were. We had to make some decisions.”

“Yes.”

She wondered if she was wrong to hear a hint of disappointment in the single word.

“Some certainty about our future will be helpful.” She struggled to sound pragmatic.

“Yes.”

A silence fell. She wondered if he’d gone to sleep, but some vibration in the air told her that he was as alert to her as she was to him. She swallowed another sob, although why she bothered, she couldn’t say. Roland knew she was upset.

She heard him roll over. This small room offered a kind of intimacy, even if not the intimacy that she wanted. “If you’re happy we’re together again, why are you crying?”

What could she say to that? She summoned all her courage and decided to be honest. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.”

Wondering why he was so slow to understand, she licked dry lips. “I missed…what we did in bed.”

She heard him move again. When she turned, she saw him sit up. Against the firelight, he was a black shape, but she caught the glitter of his eyes.

“Are you asking me to join you, Charmian?” His tone was neutral, but in the flickering glow, the line of his head and shoulders was stiff with tension.

She sucked in a shaky breath, and all her secret places softened at the prospect of Roland joining his body with hers. “You’re my husband.”

He sighed. “I am. But I don’t want to take anything for granted. This is too important.”

“Would you…would you like to sleep with me?”

During their few euphoric weeks together, she’d never had to ask. One come-hither look was all it took to lure him into bed sport. It seemed that she needed to work a little harder these days.

“I want what you want.”

A hiss of frustration escaped her. “That’s no answer.”

“If I come to you now, I want you to be very sure that you’re coming back to me.” His tone became resolute. “I couldn’t bear losing you twice. Not after you take me to heaven again.”

That dratted annoying lump in her throat was back. She swallowed to shift it, but her voice emerged as a croak. “Is that how it felt to you back then?”

“You know it did.”

She swallowed once more. It didn’t help. “I’ve had long enough to question whether I knew anything at all when we were together.”

His hiss expressed contempt for that statement. “Come on, Charmian. Whatever else went wrong between us, we were always a perfect match in bed.”

“Then why are you all the way over there?” Her voice was scratchy.

He didn’t immediately respond. Her heart shriveled into a tiny, aching lump. He’d kissed her as if he wanted her, but she was out of practice with a husband. Perhaps she’d misunderstood.

Roland sounded on edge when he answered. “Because I don’t want to frighten you away with how much I want you.”

The tightness in her chest eased. She hadn’t mistaken his desire. Something told her that they needed to come together as lovers before they could heal the breach between them. Anyway, she was desperate for him. Just the sight of him made her feel like she was a woman again, after three vile years of feeling like a ghost haunting her own life. His admission that he wanted her in return set the wanton blood rushing through her veins.

“I’m not frightened anymore.” Which wasn’t entirely true. Roland wasn’t the only one who feared that this chance reconciliation mightn’t last.

He made a convulsive movement in her direction before he pulled back to resume that constant watchfulness. She felt like he counted her every breath. “Convince me.”

Charmian supposed that she owed him that. After all, she was the one who had left him in York. “I…I kissed you.”

“Yes, you did.”

“I’ve told you I love you.”

“Yes.” A single word, but it didn’t sound quite so uncompromising.

“You say you still love me.”

“You don’t seem sure.”

She wasn’t. Not to the depths of her soul. “It’s been a long time, Roland.”

“It has.”

She sat up and put her feet on the floor, wishing she hadn’t extinguished the lamp. If he wanted her to strip her soul bare, it would be easier if she could gauge his expression.

Ever since she’d left him, she’d tormented herself. A vivid imagination could be a curse. She curled her fingers into the mattress underneath her and steeled herself to ask a question that she wasn’t sure she had the right to pose.

Her voice shook with nerves. “Were there…were there a lot?”

Although she couldn’t see his face, she knew his brows drew together in a frown. “A lot of what?”

Roland, don’t lie to me. Not now. Not when it’s so important. If we can’t start out with honesty, what use is this new beginning?

“A lot of women.”

“Charmian…”

One unsteady hand made a sweeping gesture. “You don’t have to tell me about them. But it’s driven me nearly mad, thinking of you with other lovers. I need to know.”

“You’re my wife.”

She made a contemptuous sound. “Yes, I am, and you already know you’re the only man who’s shared my bed. I realize that it’s different for men.”

“Why is it different for men?”

The edge in his voice made her flinch. “Well, different for you. I’ve been stuck in the backwaters of Yorkshire. You’ve been out in the wider world. You can’t tell me you had no chance to bed other women. For pity’s sake, you traveled around Europe’s pleasure spots. Anyway, I know you, Roland. I know how…insatiable you are. Celibacy would drive you out of your mind.”

“So you’ve tortured yourself this whole time.”

She’d gone past the point where she had any hope of preserving her pride. “Of course I have.”

“I didn’t think you’d care.”

“Because I didn’t answer your letters.”

“Or come back to me.”

“You were wrong.”

“Yes, I was wrong. But I only discovered that tonight.”

She raised her chin and told herself that she could endure this. If she’d lived through his absence, she could live through learning that he’d been unfaithful. “The uncertainty is the worst. Tell me. I’ll forgive you, then we can move on.”

“So what would be acceptable when it comes to adultery? One lover? Three? Twenty? A hundred?” His question held a sardonic tone that she didn’t understand. Shouldn’t he be grateful? Hadn’t she said that she’d overlook his sins? And she’d almost meant it, by God.

“I wouldn’t like it if it was one.” Because that indicated a stronger connection than the urge to relieve a physical itch. No, she wouldn’t like that at all.

“It wasn’t one.”

She sucked in a relieved breath. Although she shouldn’t find too much comfort in the admission. She didn’t want him making an emotional link with some faceless woman, but nor did she want him seducing any female who took his fancy.

Face it, Charmian, you want him to be all yours. Despite your long estrangement and his masculine needs. Despite you leaving him.

It wasn’t a reasonable attitude, but then, love wasn’t always reasonable.

“How many, then? More than ten?”

“No.”

So somewhere between one and ten. How many could she survive hearing about? Two? Seven? “Stop tormenting me. How many, Roland?”

He shifted as if he’d like to avoid the question. She supposed that it couldn’t be easy to own up to breaking his marriage vows. “You’re so sure I did the wrong thing.”

Her lips tightened. “Did you?”

Charmian heard him draw a breath, and she braced for the confession. She could bear it. She could. If she could bear living without him for so long, she could bear knowing that other women had enjoyed that lean, elegant body.

“No, I damn well didn’t.” As he rose to his feet, she felt his glare.

“But—”

“There wasn’t one. There weren’t five. There weren’t a thousand. There was only one woman for me and I’d married her, whatever woe that might have brought me.”

His temper slid off her like water slid off the pitched slate roof above them. Wide-eyed, Charmian stared at him, while the glorious news slowly made itself real. He hadn’t betrayed her. There had been no other women. She knew immediately that he spoke the truth. His impatience was more convincing than any attempt to cajole her into believing him.

“But…but you must have wanted…”

He raked one hand through his already messy hair. “Wanted a woman. No, I didn’t want a woman. I wanted you. I’d made promises to you.”

“But I’d left you.”

He gave a low growl. “Yes, you had, But I hadn’t given up all hope of you coming back. I hadn’t given up all hope of us making a life together one day. I never stopped loving you. Even though I felt like the world’s greatest fool when I told myself that somewhere, somehow you’d remember that you loved me, too.”

Charmian was ecstatic to know that so much of what she’d feared had lived only in her mind. So it made no sense that the tears that had come and gone all night now poured down her face. With clumsy hands, she dashed at her wet cheeks.

“I remembered,” she said in a thick voice. “I hoped we’d have another chance, too.”

He sounded more composed when he spoke, although deep emotion still roughened his musical baritone. “How could I come back to you and beg you to live with me again if I’d betrayed you with other women?”

“I’m glad you didn’t,” she said, knowing the words were inadequate.

He must have felt the same because his “good” was a little grumpy.

She gave a muffled giggle, even if one clogged with tears. “All right, I’m in alt. I’m elated. I couldn’t be happier to know you were faithful to me.” She stood. “It’s just that you were so…energetic during our honeymoon.”

“Meaning I’d run off like a wild beast and leap on the first available woman? You do me an injustice, Charmian. By heaven you do.”

“I know. And I’m sorry.” She swallowed, but the tears didn’t stop. “I’m sorry for everything. Please don’t be angry.”

“I’m not angry with you, now I know the truth about what kept us apart. I’m just heartsick at the thought of all we’ve missed, my darling.”

The my darling was the clincher. “Then let’s move on together now and not miss any more, Roland.”

With shaking hands, she caught her loose nightdress and tugged it over her head. She heard the hitch in his breath, as she dropped the voluminous garment to the floor. Beneath her night rail, she was naked.

Roland made an unsteady movement in her direction then stopped. “Swear to me that you’ll never go away again. I’ve barely survived your absence. You’ll destroy me if you leave me now.”

She managed another sketchy smile and stepped out of his shadow so that the firelight revealed her body. “I’ll never leave you while I live, Roland. I give you my solemn oath.”

That glittering black gaze remained fixed on her. He breathed in audible gusts. She couldn’t doubt that her nakedness aroused him.

Charmian ought to feel shy, especially when unhappiness and hard work meant that she was no longer the voluptuous armful Roland had wed. But strange to say, she didn’t feel at all self-conscious.

It was time to offer herself to her husband without subterfuge. He said that he loved her, and that he’d always loved her. She believed him. The man who had stayed true to her wouldn’t care if there were a few more angles on the woman she’d become.

She was close enough now to read what lay in his eyes. Love. Familiar from so long ago, but never forgotten. A love that she now knew had never wavered. Desire. And a trace of uncertainty, as if he had difficulty believing that after all their trials, they might find mutual understanding at last.

He reached toward her breasts but didn’t yet touch her. “What’s that?” he asked hoarsely.

She glanced down to see him pointing at the chain that she wore around her neck. She’d forgotten it was there. It was always hidden under her clothes. “You know what that is.”

“Your wedding ring? You wear it?”

“Every day.” Presenting herself as Janet Barton’s unmarried niece had seemed easier than trying to explain why she wore a wedding ring, yet had no husband.

“Charmian…”

When she met his gaze, her heart cramped at the fierce emotion that she saw there. “It kept me close to you.”

She shivered as his fingers brushed her skin. She’d dreamed for so long of this moment when they came together again. He caught the chain and very gently lifted it over her head so it didn’t tangle in her plait.

His trembling hands fiddled with the clasp. As if he handled something holy, he drew the ring off its chain and held it in his palm. “May I put this on your finger?”

“For pity’s sake, will I ever stop crying?” she mumbled, extending her hand in his direction. It was as shaky as his.

“It’s a significant moment.” He shoved the chain into his pocket. “I’m feeling a little misty-eyed myself.”

With that, she regained what she’d lost. Laughter had marked their days as a married couple. Laughter had been yet another loss to her over the years. Yet now Roland returned it to her. Graciously. Generously. Without a hint of acrimony.

“I love you, Roland,” she said, as he slid the elegant gold band onto her ring finger.

He lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a fervent kiss to her knuckles. She could see that this moment when he reclaimed her as his wife left him profoundly moved, too.

“And I love you.” He ripped at the fastenings on his breeches and shucked them down his narrow hips. He was so desperate, his usual aristocratic grace was utterly absent. “Now I mean to show you how much.”

She loved that overmastering desire made him clumsy. She loved him.

So when he was naked and sweeping her into his arms, she kissed him and held on tight in preparation for the splendors ahead.