Chapter 24

CHAPTER 24

C iara, bustling about the dining room, ensured everything was perfect for the evening meal. The Kirdales had graciously accepted their invitation to stay for dinner, and Ciara wanted the evening to be memorable.

As she moved around the table, adjusting silverware and straightening napkins, her eyes kept drifting to Jonathan. He stood by the window, looking out into the garden, his expression distant. It was clear his mind was elsewhere, and Ciara felt a pang of concern.

"Everything looks wonderful, Ciara," Rebecca said, coming up beside her. "You've outdone yourself."

"Thank you, Rebecca," Ciara replied, managing a smile. "I just want everyone to enjoy themselves."

As the group gathered around the table, the atmosphere was warm and welcoming. Archie entertained everyone with stories of their latest travels. "And there we were, in the heart of Venice," he began, his voice animated, "when Margaret decided she simply must feed the pigeons in St. Mark's square. Well, one bird led to another, and before we knew it, we were surrounded by an entire flock! I was convinced we'd be pecked to death!"

Margaret and Henry laughed uncontrollably at their father's antics. The entire table couldn't help but join in, the joyous sound echoing off the high ceilings.

Rebecca, with her usual sharp wit, added her own commentary. "You forgot to mention how you slipped on the birdseed and landed flat on your back, Archie," she teased, her eyes sparkling with mirth.

"Ah, yes," Archie conceded, a mock-serious expression on his face. "It was a noble sacrifice to keep the pigeons entertained."

Ciara found herself thoroughly engrossed in the lively conversation. Jonathan, too, seemed more relaxed in that moment than she had seen him in a while, his laughter mingling with the others. For a moment, all thoughts of the tensions and intrigues that had plagued their lives were forgotten.

Rebecca then leaned in, catching Ciara's eye. "And you, Ciara? Do you have any adventures to share?"

Ciara smiled, shaking her head slightly. "None quite as thrilling as yours, I'm afraid. But perhaps someday. As long as there are no pigeons around."

The table erupted in laughter once more, the shared joy serving as a balm for everyone's soul.

Then, Jonathan turned quiet again, picking at his food and barely engaging in the conversation.

As it was late, the children were sent off to bed, leaving the adults for more serious matters of discussion.

At one point, Lord Kirdale leaned forward with a curious glint in his eye. "Ciara, I hope you won't find this too forward of me, but… I've been meaning to ask you about your time at the nunnery," he began gently, his tone more compassionate than inquisitive. "I've heard various accounts, but I would like to hear your experience if you don't mind sharing."

Ciara felt as if all blood had drained from her body. The memories he had asked for stood in stark contrast to the pleasantness of the evening and the company that she shared. But one look at him assured her that he was genuinely curious. He didn't ask that question to be judgmental, like most other people did. He wanted to understand, and that gave her the courage to open up.

She felt all eyes were on her but most of all, Jonathan's. His concern was palpable. She took a deep breath and smiled. "Of course. I spent many years at St. Catherine's. It was… challenging to say the least."

It was difficult to talk about it, so Ciara chose her words carefully. "Life at the convent was strict. The nuns had very high expectations and enforced discipline rigorously."

She glanced over at Jonathan. She could see his jaw tightening as he listened. However, he remained silent, allowing her to continue.

Ciara's voice grew softer, tinged with the pain of old memories. She didn't like to talk about it. She wanted to bury all of that deep down and forget it, but she knew that could never happen. Perhaps sharing the burden was the only way she would be able to overcome what had happened.

"There were many rules, and the punishments for breaking them were severe. But I made it through." She smiled, managing to chuckle even, because the pain was too strong to bear. Laughing through it was hard, but those emotions had to go in some direction, and it was better to laugh than to cry. "You could say I even learned something about resilience and strength."

Things were much worse than she had shared with them.

Lord Kirdale's eyes were filled with empathy. She could tell that he still had so many questions.

"Did you ever consider bringing these matters to His Majesty's attention?" He paused for a moment, obviously incredulous about what he had just heard. "Such treatment is unacceptable, Ciara. And in a convent, of all places, where they should preach forgiveness and understanding."

Ciara almost laughed aloud at those words. She doubted that Mother Superior or any of the other women under her thumb knew of those terms. They had forgotten them somewhere along the way, choosing cruelty and judgment instead, filling their hearts with hatred and the feeling of superiority exercised over those they were supposed to protect and guide.

Ciara shook her head, her expression troubled. "I have thought about it, but I fear that if I did, the other girls who are still there might suffer even more. The nuns might punish them out of spite."

Rebecca leaned forward, her face determined. "Ciara, you must tell someone. If not for yourself, then for the other girls. Archie has connections that could help bring about change at St. Catherine's. You could prevent others from enduring what you went through."

She looked over at Jonathan again, noticing his fists were clenched tightly. "No one should ever have to suffer like that," he said, his voice low and controlled.

Ciara looked at Rebecca then at Jonathan. Hope began to flicker in her heart, blossoming despite everything. "You really think it could make a difference?" she asked, her voice tentative and fearful still.

Lord Kirdale nodded firmly. "Absolutely. I know people in positions of influence who could investigate and bring reforms. We could ensure the safety of those girls and at the same time, make sure such an atrocity doesn't happen again."

Ciara felt a surge of determination. If there was a chance to help the girls at St. Catherine's, she had to take it. She owed it to them and to herself as well. "All right," she said, her voice steady. "I'll do it. I'll speak up."

Rebecca smiled warmly, reaching out to squeeze Ciara's hand. "You're doing the right thing, Ciara. We'll support you every step of the way."

She felt renewed, as if she could see that light at the end of the tunnel even clearer, even brighter. As the evening continued, the atmosphere lightened. They spoke of happier times and shared stories that brought laughter and smiles. Yet, beneath the surface, a new resolve had taken root within Ciara. She knew that the path ahead might be difficult, but she also knew she wasn't alone.

It was already quite late when she and Jonathan were saying goodbye to the Kirdales. Rebecca wrapped her arms around Ciara, keeping her in a warm, tight embrace for what seemed to be an entire eternity. That was exactly what Ciara needed at that moment—the welcoming embrace of someone who cared about her.

"Thank you," Ciara gushed, turning to Lord Kirdale as well. "To both of you. I don't know how to thank you."

"There is no need to thank us; we are family," Rebecca reminded her. "Family helps each other."

Ciara had never experienced that feeling, the love and unity of a family who helped each other. Hers was a family of people who betrayed her, sent her away and caused her painful traumas she doubted she would ever forget. Before she could say anything, Margaret and Henry rushed to hug her as well.

"You will come and visit us, Ciara, won't you?" Margaret's eyes beamed at her.

Ciara smiled back. "I would love to."

As the family settled into their carriage, Ciara waved them goodbye until they disappeared from sight. She turned to Jonathan who still seemed lost in thought. She wondered what he was thinking about, but she dared not ask him.

"It's late," she heard him say somewhat gravely. "We'd best turn in."

All she could do was agree.

The walls seemed eerily familiar. It was a small, claustrophobic space with walls of rough, cold stone that seemed to absorb every bit of warmth and light. The air was damp and musty, carrying the faint scent of mildew and decay. A single, narrow window high up on one wall allowed a sliver of pale light to filter in, casting long, eerie shadows across the room.

"No…" Ciara shook her head, looking frantically around her. "It can't be…"

She looked down. The floor was made of uneven flagstones, slick with moisture and covered in patches of greenish mold. In one corner, a thin, straw-stuffed mattress lay on the ground, offering little comfort against the cold and hardness of the floor. A coarse, threadbare blanket was haphazardly thrown over it, more a symbol of warmth than a source of it.

The door was tightly shut. She rushed to it, banging with her fists which would soon become bruised, battered, and bloody. She knew that well.

"No! Please! Let me out!" she shouted, her voice desperate, filled with the terror of her past which was now merging with her present. "Don't leave me in here! I promise I'll be good!"

She suddenly felt two arms around her, holding her tightly.

She blinked heavily, banishing all the remnants of the nightmare which had her in its grip. She realized she was not in St. Catherine's, but in her own bedchamber, in her own bed, with Jonathan sitting beside her side.

"It's just a dream, Ciara," he kept repeating until finally, it reached her.

She clung to him, her body trembling.

"Jonathan?" she whispered, her voice small and frightened.

"Yes, it's me," he murmured, stroking her hair soothingly. "You're safe now. Breathe with me, Ciara. In and out, nice and slow."

She tried to match his breathing, her panic gradually subsiding as his steady presence grounded her.

"That's it, just breathe. You're safe. No one will hurt you here," he repeated, his voice a calming balm.

As her breathing steadied, she began to come back to herself. She pulled back slightly, looking up at him with wide, tear-filled eyes.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice shaky. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"When I heard you screaming, I…" he started, but something wasn't letting him finish. He brushed a strand of hair away from her face, his touch gentle.

She pulled herself up, pressing her lips to his. It was a kiss unlike any of the ones they had shared before. She felt vulnerable before him, almost naked, and yet, unafraid and unashamed. Her fingers pressed against his muscular chest, feeling him through the thin fabric of his nightshirt. His hands wrapped around her, keeping her close without breaking their kiss for even a single moment.

He caressed her breast softly, tenderly, cupping it with his hand. She moaned against his lips, feeling the need for him to take control of her. She didn't want only his lips on her. She wanted all of him.

As if able to read her mind, he slowly took off her nightgown, sliding it above her head, leaving her completely exposed.

"You are so beautiful, siren," she heard him say as he lowered his lips to her pebbled nipple and took it into his mouth.

She closed her eyes, surrendering to the sensation. She could feel everything… his tongue, the heat of his breath. Everything was blossoming with pleasure, and that little voice that always told her she was not good enough was silenced for the first time in her entire life.

She gently caressed his head, arching her back, giving all of herself to him. His fingers slid between her thighs, finding her soft mound. It was the gentlest of caresses, and yet, it awakened more desire than anything he had ever done before. What they did before were lessons. What they were doing now was something else, something neither of them could have anticipated.

She relished his scent, his touch, his kisses. Everything about him was magical—who he was and what he was doing to her. She never wanted it to end. His tongue continued to flick over her nipple while his finger dipped inside of her ever so slightly. Sensation unfurled inside of her as heat spread throughout her entire body.

His finger continued to tease her while his tongue did the same. His teeth gently nipped her, but his tongue was there to soothe the unexpected sting while his finger made her wetter with swirl as it parted her folds and slid inside of her more and more.

She didn't even know that she was so close to the edge. His lips were sucking on her nipple as her swollen bud was being teased and played with. She turned to flame, her entire body tightening under the sudden explosion. It came so gently, so slowly, and it consumed her entire being.

Still breathing heavily, she locked eyes with him.

"I want you, Ciara…"

She swallowed heavily, her entire body yearning to be his. "Take me, Jonathan…"

He gently lay on top of her, adjusting himself between her thighs. She was ready for that moment. She didn't even know it until she saw her reflection in his eyes. His lips were so close to hers, but he didn't kiss her. She felt the tip of his manhood pressing against her heat.

There was no fear. There was no hesitation. She knew she wanted him more than she wanted anything or anyone else before.

His eyes were constantly on hers.

"I will be gentle," she heard him say, and she smiled with a nod.

Without thinking, she locked her legs around his waist, keeping him close. As his manhood pressed into her slowly, inching its way inside, his lips locked with hers.

That kiss changed everything; it changed the very essence of her being. She had never felt so full, so satiated, yet so yearning for more.

The pain was also there, but the pleasure that accompanied it was beyond anything she could have imagined. Her breathing was quick, shallow, and her mind a blank. Her eyes were wide open, staring at him, wanting to drink in the sight of him.

"You feel so good…" she heard him say as he nuzzled his nose against hers. His words made her smile, and that in turn, made him even more mischievous. "Am I making you feel good?"

"Mhm," she murmured through the smile, not taking her eyes off of him.

He grabbed her hands, raising them above her head and holding her by the wrist. "And now?" he asked, licking her lips as he ended the question.

Her body erupted into a million goosebumps, running down her spine. Feeling helpless in his arms was one of the most potent sensations she had ever felt. In response, she bucked against him, feeling his manhood inside of her, and his hands locked around her wrists. She was in his power. She was all his, as it should be.

"Yes," she moaned softly.

"I can't hear you," he teased, licking her earlobe then down her neck, leaving a wet trail against her skin.

"Yes," she said louder.

"Yes, what, siren? Let that voice tell me what I want to hear…"

"Take me, Jonathan… make me yours…" she finally said what she wanted to say all along. And she could see the sheer joy in his eyes.

"That's it, siren," he whispered against her lips, and he kissed her.

He started to move, to enter her deeper and deeper, each time bringing more pleasure with him. She was desperate for more, unable to control herself as she bucked against him, giving herself to him completely. He groaned as he moved inside her, pleasure emanating from his every breath which she took into herself with every kiss that she gave him.

He knew exactly what he needed to do to drive her mad with desire. The needs she had mirrored his own. He slid his hand underneath her neck, clutching a fistful of her hair, holding her tightly. He kept thrusting into her until he was all the way inside.

Her mind exploded from the sensation, but he suddenly pulled away.

"Are you all right?" he asked, and her heart felt as if it would burst.

"Perfect," she managed to muster when he kissed her again, his motions continuing.

Her hips moved to mirror his own, and the bliss that overtook her made her come undone. A moment later, his own body stiffened on top of her, his hips thrusting deep, only to pull out and thrust in again, shuddering, their bodies intertwined.

He slumped next to her, breathing heavily, not saying anything. There was nothing to say. Words would only ruin that perfect moment.

Ciara had no idea when she closed her eyes. She didn't want to be awake when he got up and left back to his chamber. However, when she woke up in the middle of the night, she was surprised to find him still there in bed with her, his arm around her, keeping her close.

She smiled, nestling even closer to him and falling back asleep.