Chapter Eleven

H olly watched Gavin leave the dining room without a look back and frowned. She hadn't expected him to be so out of sorts over Mr. Armstrong's information. In fact, she had thought it somewhat humorous, if unfortunate, and had expected Gavin's good humor to make light of the situation. She had even looked forward to seeing his amusement, in hopes to salvage some joy out of this day. Aunt Marnie had been nothing short of a headache all day, insisting on accompanying Holly and her sister. Holly had been amazed at how much she missed Gavin since his departure that morning. When Mr. Armstrong had informed her about the routes to applying for the annulment, she had laughed, though it had been more out of shock than amusement. It was ridiculous and a part of her thought to tease Gavin a bit, but seeing the tension in his gait that evening gave her pause. He was not his usual self, and she was surprised how much that affected her. She wanted to help him but wasn't sure how to do so.

The rest of dinner was uneventful, and Mr. Armstrong left before the last course, apparently uncomfortable with being the reason Gavin retired early. Marnie didn't help either, with her snide comments about how Mr. Armstrong had to be one of the worst lawyers England had ever seen. Katrina quickly removed herself from everyone's presence, retiring once the last plate was cleared. Since Marnie insisted on tending to her sewing in the parlor, Holly decided to retire too.

Only she wasn't tired, and her concern for Gavin continued to grow. Though he left the dining room without much of an argument, Holly had sensed that he had barely kept his composure.

Reaching her room, she debated checking on him as Anne helped her undress and change into her night clothes. He certainly didn't need to be worried about, and she was hardly a confidant of his, but something prompted her to do so.

Dressed in a lace-trimmed nightgown, Holly took the heavy velvet robe on the inside hook of her wardrobe, one of the comforts that John had supplied for his guests. It was peridot green with a tropical bird pattern and far heavier than any of her gowns. Though technically undressed, she tied the gold rope belt around her waist and felt confident that there was more than enough fabric wrapped around her so it wouldn't be indecent.

Knocking gently at the door that separated her rooms from his, she waited to be called in, but the call never came. Concerned, she rapped again, and when he didn't answer, she nearly lost her nerve.

Turning to lean her back against the door, her gaze rose to the ceiling, and she sighed. What was she doing? Obviously, he didn't wish to be bothered… yet they had much to discuss. He even said before leaving the dining room that they would speak later. Well, was it not later?

Convinced that her thin argument was strong enough to be forgiven for her intrusion, she inhaled deeply, turned back to face the door, and gripped the brass handle. Pushing forward, she opened the door and peered into the room.

The bedchamber was dark, save the fireplace before which rested a set of chairs, one occupied by Gavin, who had one leg slung over the armrest while his hand held an empty glass as he gazed into the flames. Holly frowned slightly as she came into the room and realized that he was in a state of half-dress. He wore his shirtsleeves and grey trousers but nothing else. His bare feet gave her the oddest sensation of intimacy. She had never seen a grown man's bare feet before.

Gavin turned slightly, showing only his profile as her attention snapped to his face. He appeared neither angry nor upset, but the room atmosphere felt heavy and sad.

"Gavin?" she said cautiously, stopping as she reached the foot of the large bed.

"Holly," he answered, his tone odd.

She tilted his head. Was he drunk?

"Are you well?"

He turned his wrist, glass still grasped in his fingers.

"As well as possible, I suppose."

The vagueness of his answer concerned Holly. He was being ambiguous, and she didn't like it. He was usually very open when she spoke to him, and she wanted him to be honest.

Coming forward, she sat opposite him just as a giant ball of gray fur emerged from underneath the chair. She pulled her legs up, temporarily startled as it brushed against the hem of her robe, before escaping through the opened door between their chambers.

"Blasted thing won't leave me alone," Gavin said, his attention returning to the fire.

"You know, John left her to me in his will."

"Did he? Good. You may take it with you when you leave."

"I think she may fancy you."

Gavin watched her with evident curiosity as she leaned back against the plush chair. The corner of his mouth was pulled up slightly, and her heart pounded loudly. He seemed more himself, and she wondered why he was always so amused by her.

Taking a deep breath, she brought her hands together in her lap.

"I know Mr. Armstrong's suggestion wasn't exactly what you wanted to hear, but he is trying." Gavin's smirk faltered as his gaze drifted back to the fireplace. Perhaps he didn't want to talk about it? She swallowed and changed the subject. "How was your visit with Combe and Trembley?"

"Fine."

He obviously wasn't in the mood to speak, yet she wasn't willing to leave. He leaned over the arm of the chair, placing his empty glass on the floor. She sighed loudly and his attention lifted back to her.

"Is there something the matter?" he asked.

"You're being purposely obtuse and it's frustrating," she said quickly, peering down at her interlocked hands.

A long moment passed before either of them spoke.

"I'm sorry," Gavin said eventually. "I'm usually better at keeping my dark moods at bay."

Holly tilted her head.

"Dark moods?"

"Yes. If I'm not busy or distracting myself, I can become… well, peevish. And when that happens, I can become outright miserable." He glanced at her. "It's not pleasant. I don't mean to bother you with it."

"You're not bothering me," Holly said earnestly. "Everyone gets into bad moods."

"I don't."

"But you can, if you want."

"I choose not to."

"But why—"

"Because I don't—" he said quickly, but then stopped himself. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes before speaking again. "I have a theory that the difference between a good life and a bad life is outlook. Now, I'm aware that outlook isn't the only factor, but I mean to say that I've known poor men who've led great lives and rich men who do nothing but complain. I never wanted to be the latter and so I decided, a long time ago, not to let myself get in the way of being content." He opened his eyes then and looked back at her. "I don't like being miserable and I chose not to be."

Holly stared at him for a moment.

"I don't think anyone enjoys being miserable."

"I disagree. I think there are plenty of people who like it, who marinate it and surround themselves with others like themselves. But it's not for me."

"I don't think anyone can be happy all the time though," Holly argued. "It would be impossible."

"As I'm finding out," he said, almost under his breath as he turned his focus back to the fire.

Holly frowned.

"What do you mean?"

"Only that I'm realizing that some things don't have a bright side, no matter how much I look for one."

Holly wasn't quite sure she knew what he was talking about, but something about it made her uneasy. She swallowed, suddenly eager to change the subject.

"I'm sorry you were upset about Mr. Armstrong. It's why I came to check on you."

"You needn't check on me."

"But when you left the dining room you seemed irritated."

"Even so, there's no need to worry."

She gave him a strained expression.

"Of course I worry."

"You don't have to."

Holly shook her head, not understanding.

"What do you mean I don't have to?"

Gavin seemed to hesitate for a moment before taking a deep breath.

"No one has ever much worried about me, and I'm afraid it's a wasteful prospect."

Holly stared at Gavin, their eyes not quite meeting as his words sank in. It was an odd thing to think about. Even on her worst day, she was confident that people cared enough about her to worry about her. After her mother passed away, Holly at least had her siblings, and her friends had been great supports to her.

Leaning forward, her curiosity piqued.

"What about your friends? And your family? I know your aunt can be… a lot." Gavin snorted, but Holly continued. "But she's still your family."

Gavin shrugged.

"Is she? We haven't spoken in nearly five years. I hadn't seen her in half a decade until last night."

"Really? Why?"

"We don't get on." Almost automatically, Gavin reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a small piece of wrapped parchment. Holly had become accustomed to his candy habit and waited for him to continue after dropping the small confectionary between his teeth. "I'll always be grateful to Aunt Marnie for taking me in when John didn't, though."

Holly was unsure if she had a right to say anything, but it was the third time she had heard him speak about John refusing to house him, which simply did not make sense. From everything she had learned through her interactions with John, she would have expected his behavior to be the exact opposite.

"Gavin, did your aunt tell you that John didn't want you?"

"Yes, of course," he said. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, it just doesn't make much sense. John was always so eager to help his friends and during our more private conversations, he always made it seem as though he regretted not marrying earlier in life, if only to have a child."

Gavin didn't speak as the information sank in, but the crease in his brow made Holly unsure. She was about to press the issue when he leaned back.

"It doesn't matter, does it? I'm better suited to being alone."

"But you aren't alone," Holly said softly. "Not anymore."

He glanced at her; his hazel eyes steady on her face.

"I will be though. Soon enough."

Holly felt a slight jab of guilt. It was true. She and her siblings would leave as soon as their annulment went through.

She shook her head slowly, her gaze dropping.

"Even still. I should think we would remain friends, after all this is figured out." Gavin didn't answer and so she continued. "I don't know why John thought this was a good idea. I wish I had known about it. I could have talked some sense into him."

Gavin's hand suddenly reached for hers, and to her surprise, she let him as she stared into his eyes.

"You know, I've tried to be indignant about it. But all I can muster up is that, I'm not sorry it happened."

"You're not?" she breathed.

"No."

Holly's heart began to thud hard against her chest as their hands interlocked. The excitement that had filled her body the morning at the inn came flooding back, and she sensed something on the horizon, but she didn't know what.

Nervously, she slowly pulled her hand back and stood up.

"Well, I suppose I should return to my rooms."

Gavin nodded. He exhaled loudly as he stood up himself, coming terribly close to her. Holly's breath hitched as she stared at her for a long moment, and she was sure she was turning all shades of red.

"Good night then," he said quietly, and to Holly's surprise, he leaned forward and kissed her gently on the cheek.

The barely-there stubble of his jawline grazed hers, and her eyelids fluttered shut. The scent of lemon and mint filled her senses, and when he didn't pull back immediately, she felt herself begin to sway.

The slight, slow burn she felt whenever they were near one another seemed to ignite once more. Her eyes flickered open as the heat between them grew, and she saw his hands lifting, hesitating to touch her arms. There always seemed to be some resistance within him, as if touching her would pain him somehow.

Leaning closer toward him, she tried to let him know that she wasn't afraid of his touch. Prompted, his fingers lightly gripped her upper arms as his head lowered toward hers. Their mouths nearly touched when he suddenly stepped back, holding her at a distance.

Holly nearly stumbled, so lost in the moment was she, and when he spoke, she barely registered what he was saying.

"I'm sorry," he said, the faintest hint of self-deprecating humor in his tone.

"Why do you do that?" she whispered, unable to stop herself.

"Do what?"

"Pull away."

She looked down after a moment, aware that she was asking an obvious question. He clearly stopped them each time because it was the correct thing to do, because he was a gentleman. She, on the other hand, couldn't help herself. He was merely doing what she couldn't.

"Because I'm sure I can't keep you," he said, derailing her thoughts. "And if I knew what it was like to truly have you then I don't think I should react very well if I couldn't have you always."

Holly's mouth fell open, stunned at his confession. He wanted to keep her? Why, what a strange, wonderful thing to say. She didn't know why such a response should make her feel so giddy and heartbroken at the same time, but in the next instant, she stepped forward and kissed him.

Something had broken within her. He wanted to keep her . Her fingers curled into the front of his shirt as she held on to him, afraid that he might stop her, but his arms came up around her, to her delight and fright.

Glee rolled through her bones as Gavin kissed her. But as soon as he started, he pulled away again.

"Wait. Wait," he said, his tone husky. "What are we doing?"

Holly stared at him, half confused, half mortified. Didn't he know?

"Um, well, I'm actually not quite sure. I've never—"

"No, no," he said quickly, cutting her off, the faintest tone of humor on his breath. "What are we doing?"

The meaning of his question dawned on her.

"I… I don't know," she whispered, more to herself than to him.

What were they doing? It was a precarious situation they found themselves in and an increasingly difficult one to navigate. On the one hand, Holly had very much wished for an annulment and believed it was the correct thing to do, considering that neither of them had asked for this marriage. But on the other hand, she found it difficult to stop herself from caring about him. Gavin had been more accepting and accommodating than she ever expected. Not only had he proven himself to be good-natured, but her attraction to him only seemed to grow each day.

But it hadn't been her choice. Nor had it been his, and that made her tentative. Could two people, pushed together by circumstance, really be happy with one another? Wouldn't one eventually come to resent the other?

She shook her head, unable to answer her question, but then Gavin spoke.

"I want you, Holly. I do," he said softly. His words sent a shiver down her spine. "But if we continue with this, any talk of an annulment will be off the table." Holly nodded. "Do you understand what that means?"

She did. They would be properly married and bound to one another for the rest of their lives. Although a warm, comforting feeling settled over her at the thought, the practical part of her resisted.

"It's ridiculous," she whispered, her eyes drifting down his face. "We were essentially tricked into this. But I just don't want…"

He nodded, understanding that she was apprehensive. She wanted him, very much so, but the idea of giving up her entire life seemed too great a sacrifice. And she didn't like the idea of Gavin giving up his choice in life just to provide for her, particularly if there was a chance he could find true happiness and love with someone else. It was the same reason she had rejected Mr. Payne's marriage proposal. It didn't sit well with her that someone should have to sacrifice so much for her.

Letting her head drop, she tried hard to ignore the wave of humility she felt. It wasn't his fault, nor even hers, but it washed over her like a wave on the shore, and she pulled away from him.

"I suppose I should go."

But Gavin's hand caught her wrist, and she froze. For a long moment, she heard his breathing as she stared at the ground. He moved closer and, leaning forward, spoke in her ear.

"Not yet."

Confused, Holly noted the sudden display of mischief in his hazel eyes, highlighted by the light from the fire. Leading her away from the fireplace, he walked her to the foot of the bed. Unsure, Holly followed. Leading her to turn, Gavin crowded against her, causing the back of her legs to press against the edge of the bed. He leaned forward, his mouth beneath the hollow of her ear. Shivering, Holly spoke.

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing that will have a lasting effect, I promise," he said, leaning forward. "Now, stay still."

Holly did as she was told, just as Gavin continued kissing and nipping at the column of her neck. Heat bubbled within her core as his hands moved freely over her body, caressing the underneath of her breast as she felt her equilibrium slip.

He leaned her backward and, sensing her uneasiness, he reached for her hand and pressed it against his chest as he stilled. Then he spoke.

"Do you wish me to stop?"

The words seemed to catch in her throat. Holly shook her head.

"Do you want me to continue?" She gave him a hesitant nod. "Relax, love."

Was he asking or commanding her? She couldn't differentiate. She didn't understand what was happening. Never in her life had a man commanded her things while simultaneously ensuring she was in control. It was a heady experience, and she had no doubt that whatever they did would have a lasting effect on her.

Gavin's hands moved down her torso, and he untied her robe. She heard the slight intake of breath as he caught sight of the thin night rail she wore beneath it. A wild part of her was satisfied by his reaction even as his hands moved, touching every aspect of her. Breathing deeply, she tried to ignore her nerves as she shook beneath his fingers, but she froze utterly when he began to pull the hem of her nightgown up.

Detecting her apprehension, Gavin lowered himself and kissed the inside of her knee.

"Don't tense," he said softly, kissing her legs. "Not yet."

"I… I don't know…"

"Shh, I know," he said, continuing his exploration of her.

"But—"

"Trust me, Holly."

"I don't know if I can," she said softly, her eyes shut tightly for fear that he might stop.

But thankfully, he didn't, and she heard the softest of smiles in his voice.

"Then let me prove that you can," he said.

How this particular event would lead to her trusting him was beyond her comprehension as the slow, simmering heat began to roll within her. Before she knew it, his mouth was on her, inside her, his tongue tasting her deepest center as his fingers gripped her hips with bruising tightness, as if he were afraid to let her go.

She bucked at the invasion, equally mortified and ecstatic as he feasted upon her. She knew she should want to push him away, but jolts of pleasure began to spread all over her body and instinctively her hands went to his head. She hesitantly ran her fingers through his hair and the sound he made when she touched him encouraged her. She tangled her fingers into his hair and held him against her as he growled, the vibrations of his voice reverberating into her very soul.

Gavin's hands held her tighter and Holly knew there would be black and blue spots from his fingertips, but she had never felt more willing to be marked. The edges of a storm began to brew within her. Something she had never experienced before. Her heart began racing as sparks ignited all over her skin. It felt as though a cord had been pulled tightly from her head to her toes through the center of her body and Gavin was slowly strumming her into oblivion. She tried to fight off the rising urgency in her body, but he wouldn't relent. One hand reached up to find the peak of her breast and rolled it between his fingers as her world began crashing into her.

A moan escaped her lips as her body convulsed beneath Gavin's expert touch, and she felt suspended out of her body as an outrageous series of thoughts and feelings washed over her. It was cataclysmic. His hands had become firmer still, as if he were trying to hold her very spirit as he came up over her. Strong arms wrapped around her prone, shaking body and he held her against him, his own breath nearly as unsteady as hers.

Holly curled her own arms around Gavin's back as she slowly returned to herself. For several moments, neither of them moved. The only sound was the ragged pants of their breaths and the pounding of their own hearts. Holly wanted nothing more but to hold him indefinitely as she inhaled the faint scent of his skin. How she would ever be able to look him in the eye again, she did not know, but she was desperate to stay there in his arms, on his bed, for as long as possible.

All too soon, Gavin pulled away, standing above her as his wild eyes searched hers. There was something else, she thought vaguely. Something else that could be done, though she knew not what. But just as quickly as she realized it, a shadow passed over his face. His chest rising and falling, he watched her with what she assumed was satisfaction and need. Holly stared at him, wanting to feel his arms around her again, to be pulled against him. Instead, after several moments, he held his hand out to her and she took it. He drew her up to her shaky feet and pressed his mouth to her temple. Holly didn't understand why, but she felt as though he was going to let her go.

"Goodnight, Holly," he said, his tone rougher than she had ever heard it.

Goodnight?

After all that, after the way he had touched her, kissed her, made her experience… well, whatever that had been called, he was sending her away? She wanted to ask him why. She wanted to tell him that she wished to stay, but apparently she had been robbed of speech because all she did was nod and move away from him when his hands dropped from hers.

What was going on? She did not wish to regret that they had done something wildly intimate, but to be so flippant or even cold afterward left her feeling rather shameful.

Holly entered her bedroom without a backward glance, locking the door behind her for her sense of peace. Why on earth had she even gone to his room? She certainly hadn't expected that interaction, yet it was what she had wanted since that morning in the inn. To be held by him, kissed by him. Gavin's mere presence made her warm and giddy. To be handled so gently and so expertly made her feel cherished, yet the way he had let her go made her feel somehow cheap. As if he had been capable of doing that with anyone.

Holly's hand came up and wrapped around the edges of her robe under her neck. Had it meant anything to Gavin? Or had he simply been trying to placate her?

Confused by all the contradictions, Holly crawled into her bed, huddling beneath the covers. It was embarrassing, to say the least, and she was sure she would simply melt beneath his knowing glance tomorrow, but for now, she was in a state of mortifying bliss.