Chapter 18

CHAPTER 18

" I did not know they would be so improper," Arabella continued as she and Jasper made their way into the manor. They were home now, having returned from dinner at her family's estate, and Arabella was apologizing again for her family's behavior.

"Your uncle has already remarked upon the inappropriate behavior," she added. "I had thought it an overreaction, but if Your Grace was made uncomfortable by it, I will certainly ask them not to be so informal with you."

Silently kicking herself for not having preempted the situation, and now recalling the discomfort on Jasper's face as her family embraced him, she worried that she had not only upset the duke, but that she had ruined her chances of returning to visit her family.

Would he forbid her from inviting them to the duke's estate? Or would he simply decline the invitation to join her when she next went to visit her family? They would be more than a little hurt if they found out that Jasper was avoiding them. It had been obvious how much they enjoyed his company.

"Though I was a little taken aback at first," Jasper admitted, leading her into the drawing room, "anyone could see that their attentions were well meant."

Arabella allowed herself a small sigh. As Jasper came to a halt, turning to face her, she saw that he was far from upset. He continued to wear the strange expression that she had seen on his face all the way home. If she was not mistaken, it was a look of contentment. Something she had never seen him show before.

"If I am being honest," he continued, smiling a little, "it was endearing. You come from a large family. I had only myself. My father died when I was little. My mother…" he hesitated. "For a very long time, it was just Reginald and me. And you know as well as I that he is not exactly a loving, doting uncle."

There was something in Jasper's eyes that nearly broke Arabella's heart in two. She had never thought about her husband's childhood before. Now she pictured little Jasper, playing alone in these cold, empty halls. She imagined Reginald trying to instruct Jasper in the ways of a duke, offering little comfort or approval to the young boy.

"Your family is unlike any that I have ever encountered," Jasper admitted. "They made me feel as if I were one of them."

As Jasper looked at her, the beginnings of a smile curving his lips, the sincerity in his eyes stirred something within Arabella. She watched him, her heart racing as she came to a terrifying, unexpected conclusion.

She, Arabella Merton, the Duchess of Gysborne, was falling for her husband.

She could not have said when it had begun. Perhaps it had been when he had instructed the staff to look after her every need. Perhaps it had been that heated, intimate argument in the stables. Perhaps it had been when, out of jealousy, he had insisted that she dance a second dance with him at the ball, all the while telling her that she looked beautiful.

Or, perhaps, it had been when, as they left her family this evening, Emily had pulled Arabella aside and told her daughter just how glad she was that, against all odds, the duchess and duke seemed to be happy together.

Both she and Jasper were caught up in their own thoughts for a moment, their minds miles away. But, finally, Jasper spoke again.

What he said, however, took Arabella quite by surprise.

"I am sorry," he murmured, his voice low and gruff. His smile was gone. "I – I know you want a family of your own."

Arabella's eyes widened. "How – How did you -?"

"Your mother told me," he said sadly. "Just before we left. She mentioned how happy she was that you could finally start to build the family you had always wanted. That you could finally be a mother."

Pressing her lips together, Arabella had no idea what to say. Her mother had overstepped, confessing such things to the duke. But what she had said was the truth. Though Arabella had tried to hide her tears, she was still brokenhearted at the idea that she might never have children of her own.

"I – I am sorry," Jasper repeated after a moment. And to Arabella's surprise, he seemed disappointed.

Emboldened, Arabella took a step toward him. "Does it have to be that way?" she asked gently.

Jasper frowned, but he did not answer.

"I have noticed…at first I thought it was simply because you found me unattractive," Arabella admitted, pressing on. "But then, seeing you with my family…Your Grace, why will you not come to my bed? Why will you not allow others to touch you?"

Jasper took a step back. "I will not discuss this." His tone was low. Hard.

"But surely we can come to an understanding." Arabella stepped closer, wanting to reach out and hold him in place. "If there is something I can do –"

"There is nothing to be done!" Jasper snapped. "I have told you what will and will not happen in our marriage. I expect you to respect that."

"But I cannot accept that," Arabella cried, her volume rising to meet his. She had seen another side to this man over the last few weeks. She had begun to see the kind, reliable, loving man beneath the outer shell of arrogance and privilege. She would not allow him to continue to keep her at a distance. Not when she knew what she was missing out on.

"You are my wife!" Jasper thundered, his voice booming around the room. "It is your job to accept it!"

Arabella blinked back sudden tears. She took a shaky step back, eyeing him with pain and confusion.

Groaning, Jasper sank into the chair behind him, putting his head in his hands. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "I- there was no call to…"

He raised his head and Arabella thought that the man looked haunted. Hunted. Her heart ached to see the anguish in his eyes. "I cannot lose you too."

The words were hardly more than a murmur, but they sent a wave of heat through Arabella. She had heard them clear as day and yet, she could hardly make sense of them.

Gingerly, Arabella got to her knees before Jasper. Looking up into his guilt-ridden face, she fought back the urge to take his hand in hers. "Please, Your Grace," she whispered. "Tell me. Help me understand. What has happened?"

She was so beautiful. Staring up at him with compassion flooding her eyes. Jasper had no words for Arabella. He wanted to help her understand. But he did not know how.

Then, possessed by an impulse that would not be denied, he slowly raised his hand.

Gingerly, Jasper unfurled his fingers, his palm hovering just a breath away from Arabella's face. A voice at the back of his mind was screaming at him not to touch her, but Jasper could not have obeyed even if he wanted to. Everything in him needed to touch her. Needed to see.

As Jasper leaned forward, Arabella did not move. He watched as her breath seemed to catch in her throat. For a moment, he hesitated, wondering if she was going to pull away.

But she did not. Instead, as he drew closer, Arabella's eyes fluttered closed.

She trusted him. She wanted this.

That was all Jasper could think as he gently pressed his hand to her cheek.

For a moment, he could hardly breathe as he waited for that all too familiar chill to rush over him. That the cold and clammy way his body usually clamped up. And then, if it persisted, the pain.

But nothing happened. No, that was not exactly true.

A warmth, eager and yearning, flooded through his veins as he touched Arabella. The sensation was heightened further as the beautiful woman moved slightly, leaning into his touch.

Still there was no numbness. Quite the opposite. Jasper felt everything. He marveled at the warmth and suppleness of Arabella's cheek. He was close enough to smell the sweet, floral scent of her perfume. Close enough almost to…

Emboldened by this revelation and the way his body responded to Arabella, Jasper leaned forward, closing the last of the distance between them.

His breath was on her lips as he drew near, his hand sliding from her cheek to her neck, moving to cup the back of her head. As he moved, he could feel her body respond to his touch. Eyes still closed, Arabella's perfect lips parted ever so slightly.

A hunger stirred within Jasper and gently – ever so gently – he kissed her.

Arabella's lips met his with a shy eagerness. Heat coursed up and down Jasper's body, his yearning for her only growing.

His other arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer, and Arabella willingly moved, rising onto her knees so that she might help deepen their kiss.

Her lips were tender and warm. His blood was aflame.

Then, before he could be consumed by this sudden, urgent need, Jasper pulled back, gently breaking their kiss.

As Arabella's eyes fluttered open, a small smile lingered on her lips.

If Jasper could have captured this image – the sight of her, his kiss still on her lips, the evening light catching the honeyed blond of her hair – he would have.

But when Arabella spoke, his heart sank. "That was not an answer to my question," she gently reminded him. "However enjoyable it was," she added, her eyes shining with hidden mirth.

Jasper sighed. He sat back and ran a hand through his hair. Gingerly, Arabella stood and came to sit beside him. She was silent, waiting for him to speak when he felt ready. It was generous of her, but Jasper knew he would never truly be ready to share this part of him. He would never want to relive what had happened.

Still, when he turned to her, the look on her face told him that it was time. Perhaps, if he could not recount the whole tale, then he could at least share with her his condition. It would be more than he had ever told anyone before.

"For many years now," he began slowly, forcing the words from his mouth, "I have been unable to touch others. Or to stand being touched by them. This, you have noticed."

Holding out his hand before him, Jasper flexed his fingers. "It is more than a dislike of the touch. When it happens – particularly if my bare skin makes contact with someone else – my body is overcome with…my condition."

This was even more difficult than Jasper had imagined. He hesitated. At his side, Arabella waited patiently. "What is your condition?" she asked after a moment, her voice soft.

"At first, my body simply goes cold. My hands grow clammy. I am unable to feel or sense anything. It is…disconcerting." Jasper swallowed, almost feeling such sensations now, as he described them. "But then, if the touch continues, I am overwhelmed by unbearable pain. The point of contact, as well as my hands, begins to burn as if everything were stuck through with tiny needles."

Arabella let out a soft gasp, her brow furrowing as she stared at him in horror.

"I have never told anyone this," Jasper continued. "If anyone were to know, they would think me weak. Or they would not understand. Not even my uncle knows. Though I think he has noticed my dislike of physical contact."

Nodding slowly, Arabella continued to frown. She was thinking. "But, when we first met, you touched me. We – I fell on top of you," she added embarrassedly. "But then you touched me of your own accord. Why?"

"I do not know why I did it," Jasper admitted, a rueful smile tugging at his lips. "It was an impulse."

"And did you – your condition, did it act up when you touched me?"

"No."

Jasper watched her carefully, marveling at how each of her thoughts and emotions were clearly written across her face. She was an open book compared to him.

"No?"

He shook his head. "I have never before experienced a stay of my condition. But when I touched you then…when I kissed you just now…there was no pain."

Only pleasure, he thought.

Reaching out, Jasper took Arabella's hand in his. He was astonished, again, that he could savor the warmth of her touch without the pins and needles of his condition getting in the way.

"I do not know how long this reprieve might last," he continued, the longing of his heart making his words tumble out faster, "but I do not care. I may find that the pain returns with time – or duration – but I cannot care. Not so long as I am able to touch you. I – I will not give that up."

The joy in Arabella's eyes made any and all future pain worthwhile. She gently squeezed his hand, moving her other to his face. Gently, she traced her thumb down his cheek. "You are my husband," she breathed. "You may touch me any time you wish."

A low growl rumbled in Jasper's chest as he pulled Arabella toward him again. This time, Arabella was the first to act. Her hand wound itself around his head and into his hair. Her lips met his with an urgency that Jasper shared entirely.

As love flooded through him, Jasper had only a second to marvel at this moment and the improbability of it all, before his thoughts were wiped away and his mind was filled only with adoration for his wife.

With Arabella in his arms, Jasper let go of everything else for the very first time in his life. He lived only in her touch and smell and the feeling of her lips against his.

His wife, too, seemed to have no hesitation in sharing in this moment with him. She said not a word, but her lips told a story of her longing for him, a longing that Jasper was now realizing had been growing for some time. She kissed him as if she had been waiting for this moment, waiting for him to finally take her in his arms.

And Jasper was only too eager to oblige.

Jasper kissed Arabella like a drowned man gasping for air. He did not know how long his symptoms would stay away. He did not know how long he could hold her before the pain and the memories overpowered him. But he did not care. He wanted Arabella. And he would not now give her up.