by Diana Bold
“You make it sound so easy. Hell, you make it look so easy. How can you plan Christmases and children, when there’s no guarantee you won’t lose the woman you love tomorrow?”
“But what if nothing happens?” Julian asked softly. “What if we die of old age forty years from now? I won’t deny myself the certainty of happiness because of the possibility of tragedy.”
“You’re an optimist.” Ethan stepped forward and gave his brother a fierce embrace. “I’m glad you’re here tonight. I’m glad you came looking for me.”
Julian hugged him tightly, then let him go. “It was Jessalyn who asked me to. She was worried about you. She came down here with me, but she’s gone now.”
“She was here?” Ethan felt as though he’d been punched in the stomach. Bloody hell, it must have killed her to see him in such a state after what Christian had done.
Julian gave him a pitying look. “She left after you put the gun down. Maybe you should go after her.”
“I don’t know what I can say to her that can possibly make things right.” The mere thought of her understandable hurt and dismay made him ill.
“Tell her you love her,” Julian suggested. “Tell her you’re not going to leave her.”
The certainty of happiness—the possibility of tragedy.
Somehow, he had to find it within himself to take the risk. He could no longer deny that Julian and Jessalyn cared what happened to him. His death would hurt them, no matter what he did to try and disguise it. After what had happened tonight, they would never believe he’d met with an accident.
Julian clasped his shoulder. “I love you, little brother. I never stopped, no matter how it must have seemed.”
Overwhelmed, Ethan cleared his throat. “I’m going to try, Julian. For you, and for Jessalyn, I’ll try.”
A look of relief passed over Julian’s face. “That’s all any of us can do.”
“I need to get out of here.” Ethan gave one last look around, then shuddered. “Can’t you have this place cleaned up?”
Julian nodded. “I guess it’s time for me to let go of the past, too.”
Ethan scrubbed a hand over his face, suddenly exhausted. “I guess I’ll see you in the morning.”
“In the morning,” Julian agreed, as they exited their father’s room. They walked silently down the echoing hall, but when they reached the new wing, Julian paused and gave him a long, searching look. “You will be here in the morning?”
“I’ll be here,” Ethan vowed, willing his brother to see the truth behind his words. The dark anguish that had filled him earlier was gone, only to be replaced by a hesitant sense of hope.
“All right,” Julian said. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.” Ethan turned away and headed for the room he shared with Jessalyn. His gut clenched in knots as he thought of the confrontation to come. The tenuous thread of control Julian had helped him find was likely to snap under the slightest strain.
But when he entered the room, he found his wife fast asleep in the big, comfortable-looking bed, her golden hair fanned out on the pillow around her. For a long moment, he just stood there and stared at her. Longing welled within him. It had been so long since he’d held her.
He began to undress, his movements slow and uncoordinated. He needed the solace that only his beautiful wife could provide. He was so tired of pretending he didn’t need her, didn’t want her with every fiber of his being.
Naked, he slipped beneath the blankets and tried not to disturb her. As he settled beside her, she sighed and turned toward him. She slid her knee over his hip and stretched her arm across his chest, burrowing her face against his shoulder. For weeks, they’d slept this way, and it felt so good to have her in his arms again.
He smoothed a few strands of hair from her face and tried to relax, but her close proximity had an inevitable effect upon his body. He was hard and aching, and she was so soft and warm and sweet.
Jessalyn cuddled close to her beautiful, damaged husband. She’d thought he’d stay gone all night, as he’d done ever since Christian’s death. She’d certainly never expected him to crawl into bed beside her, naked and aroused.
She feigned sleep and tried to gauge his mood and desire. If she reached out to him, would he take her in his arms as he once had or turn her away? She was afraid of being rejected, but all she could think about was the anguish in his voice when he’d spoken of taking his own life. Despite all the promises she’d made to herself during the long walk back to her room, all she wanted to do was comfort him.
Moving her knee forward a tentative inch, she brushed the hot length of his erection. Elated by his soft moan, she struggled not to move too fast. Waiting for an endless minute, she let him relax before she brought her hand up to rest upon his chest. She swept her palm across that warm expanse and then toyed with the small, hard nubs of his nipples.
He didn’t speak, but he buried his hands in her hair as she kissed his smooth skin. Slowly, she drifted from his neck to his chest and then lower still. His belly contracted as she pressed her lips to the lean ridges that bisected it. His cock twitched, as though straining toward her mouth, and she suddenly remembered something James had once asked her to do. She’d been horrified at the time, even though he’d assured her it was every man’s dream.
But now, with Ethan, it didn’t seem distasteful at all. The thought took hold and she found herself wanting to do it.
Still kissing his belly, she cupped Ethan’s hot length in one hand, loving the way he shuddered and trembled beneath her. Determined to make this a night he would never forget, she pressed her lips to the bulbous head of his shaft and inhaled his clean, musky scent.
“Jess,” he groaned. “What are you doing?”
She ran her tongue up his length, and he nearly jumped off the bed. She suppressed a grin. “Do you want me to stop?”
“No,” he moaned. “No, don’t stop. Please.”
Encouraged, she continued her exploration, learning every hard, throbbing inch of him with her lips and teeth and tongue. He was so responsive, and he was obviously enjoying her attention so much, she wanted to make it last forever.
“Take me in your mouth,” he whispered. “Take as much of me as you can.”
She complied, and as he thrust gently between her lips, a low moan of pleasure escaped her throat. He fisted his hands in her hair, his soft words of praise and encouragement filling the air. Suddenly, he cried out, wrenching away as his seed erupted across his belly.
Pushing up on one elbow, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and watched in fascination as he sat up and cleaned his belly with a corner of the sheet. Before she had time to be embarrassed about her brazen behavior, he turned and pressed her down into the mattress, kissing her wildly.
She responded with all the passion she’d been storing up the past few weeks, so glad to have him in her arms again, even if it was only for tonight. He stroked and caressed her, murmuring a litany of soft words she couldn’t really understand.
Before long he was seated deep within her, buried to the hilt. The two of them were finally one.
“I love you,” she whispered, unable to hold back. “I love you so much.”
He pressed his lips against her throat, biting her gently as he thrust against her with wild abandon. For perhaps the first time, he seemed to hold nothing back. Tears filled her eyes as she met him thrust for thrust. The culmination was as shattering as ever, perhaps more so because she feared this was good-bye.
* * * * *
Ethan lay heavily atop his wife, stunned by her passion and unable to believe the amazing thing she’d done for him.
“Are you all right?” Jessalyn’s soft voice cut into his thoughts, and he met her searching gaze with a wry smile.
“I think I’m the one who should be asking you that. Did I hurt you?” He’d been so rough, so carried away by desire. She probably thought him an animal.
“Of course not.” Jessalyn stared up at him, concern pulling
at her brow, though tears sparkled in her lashes. “It was the most beautiful thing that’s ever happened to me.”
“I’m surprised you let me into your bed,” he replied darkly, all his old demons resurfacing. “I’m sorry for what you heard. I’m sorry for what you saw.”
“Don’t apologize,” she whispered. “There have been tragedies in your life, Ethan. Terrible accidents. I know how hard it must be for you to find the strength to go on. But you’re not to blame. You’ve never been to blame.”
“You don’t know that,” he argued. “You don’t know what happened to Nathaniel and Elizabeth.”
“Yes, I do. Julian told me everything tonight.”
“He told you?” Ethan’s breath deserted him in a rush. “He had no right.”
“He had every right,” she insisted. “Despite everything, I’m your wife. I wanted to know, and he knew I wanted to help you.”
“What did he tell you?” he asked, after a long tense minute. “Did he tell you about our father?”
“Yes.” Tears welled in her clear blue eyes. “He told me your father was crazed by grief and struck out at you to try and ease it. He said the earl hurt you, but I know his words were more painful than the blows.”
Ethan ducked his head and tried to hide his tears. “He never spoke to me again, Jess. Not once. And neither did my mother. She took to her bed, too grief-stricken to bear the sight of me. During the days I was mending from the beating, before they sent me away for good, I saw no one but the servants, and even they blamed me.”
“Listen to me, Ethan. It might have been your idea, but no one forced Elizabeth to go out there with you. I’m sure she understood the dangers. Everyone knew it was just an accident. It’s just easier to blame someone than to admit sometimes life isn’t fair. Sometimes the very best of us are lost, for no rhyme or reason. But I know your brother and sister wouldn’t have wanted you to live this way. They would want you to forgive yourself and move on. They’d want you to find all the happiness and love you deserve.”
“That’s just it,” he murmured hoarsely. “I don’t deserve anything. Not after the things I’ve done, the pain I’ve caused.”
“You’re wrong.” She cupped his face, her gaze direct and earnest. “You are a good man. You’ve been a friend to me, and you were the very best of friends to my brother. You’re kind and gentle and you deserve the very best out of life. I wish you could see that.”
He hugged her closer, humbled and stunned by her defense of his character. “Ah, sweetheart. I’m so lucky to have you in my life.”
She snuggled deeper into his embrace and pressed her lips against his neck. “I’m the lucky one.”
* * * * *
Ethan and Jessalyn slept late the next morning, twined together beneath the heavy quilts, so close it was impossible to know where one ended and the other began. Ethan stretched lazily when he awoke, feeling blissfully content.
To his surprise, she’d been right. It had helped to talk about his past. He’d held his guilt and grief inside for far too long. Since Lizzie’s life had been cut short, perhaps he owed it to her to live his life fully, instead of merely existing on the fringes.
Jessalyn stirred beside him, and he luxuriated in the feel of her soft curves pressed against him. He’d never wanted anything the way he wanted to roll her beneath him and lose himself in her sweetness once again. Unfortunately, by the slant of the sun on the wall, he knew they’d already slept far too late. His brother had planned a late lunch before the candlelight wedding ceremony that would take place after dark.
Julian would understand, if he knew what had precipitated their delay, but after what had happened last night, he didn’t want to worry his brother unduly.
“Wake up, sweetheart,” he whispered, as he pressed his lips against the tender nape of her neck. “It’s late.”
Jessalyn blinked up at him, her eyes still hazy and unfocused. “Good morning, my love.”
Ethan’s heart tightened in his chest. She’d said she loved him, not once but several times. And the time had come to let himself believe it. All the happily ever afters he’d never allowed himself to imagine stretched before him, so beautiful he had to close his eyes for a minute before he trusted himself to speak.
“Good morning, sweetheart.” He pressed his lips to her forehead and ignored the dull ache in his loins. “Did you sleep well?”
She nodded and gave a languorous stretch. “Better than ever. You kept me so warm. I’ve never felt so safe and cherished.”
With every word she said, the ice surrounding his heart cracked a little more. “I’m glad.” He reluctantly rolled away and pulled on his discarded trousers. “I’ll ring for a hot bath.”
“Oh, that sounds wonderful. I’m a little sore.”
His felt a surge of masculine pride at the reminder of how she’d gotten that way. Making love to her just got better and better. He couldn’t believe he’d planned to walk away from her.
She knew the worst there was to know about him, yet she was still here, giving him her love and her body, begging him to take a chance on life and on love. The thoughts he’d had after Christian’s death, his plans to leave and put an end to his life, shamed him.
He’d been foolish to think his death wouldn’t touch her. She’d done everything in her power to convince him his leaving would destroy her. He’d been selfish, so lost in his own grief he hadn’t been thinking logically.
His brother was right. Running away wasn’t the answer. Somehow, he had to find the courage to remain by Jessalyn’s side and give her all the love she deserved. Perhaps tragedy was inevitable, but he’d be a fool not to cherish every moment he was given.
Chapter Twenty
Later that evening, Jessalyn stood beside her husband in his family’s ancient chapel and watched as the Earl of Basingstoke took Jane as his bride. The beautiful old building shone with soft candlelight and hundreds of Ethan’s orchids bathed the air in their heady scent.
Ethan had been quiet all afternoon. He seemed lost in his own thoughts and hadn’t spoken more than a dozen words since they left their room. She tried not to be disappointed. After all, she knew how much their intimacy frightened him. She just hoped he wasn’t regretting the lovemaking they’d shared.
As the minister droned on at the front of the aisle, she risked a quick glance at the man who stood rigidly at her side. His hair was slicked back from his face in a stern queue, and his handsome face wore a distant, forbidding expression.
With a sigh, she turned her attention back to the gorgeous couple at the front of the church and wished her own wedding had been half as lovely. Julian and Jane obviously loved each other madly. The earl’s face filled with tenderness as he bent to kiss his bride at the altar, to the applause of their small audience.
To her surprise, Ethan reached for her hand and squeezed it tight. “I’m sorry our wedding wasn’t like this. I should never have pretended it was temporary. I knew all along that once I held you, I could never let you go.”
“Oh, Ethan.” Her eyes filled with happy tears, and she turned to press a swift kiss to his lips, knowing everyone else’s attention was elsewhere. “Thank you so much. You don’t know how much I needed to hear that.”
He looked a little nonplussed but managed a gentle smile. “I should have told you that long ago. Hell, there are a lot of things I should have said and done differently.”
Before she could think of a suitable reply, Julian and Jane moved down the aisle toward them, beaming with joy. Ethan stepped forward to shake his brother’s hand and offer his congratulations, while Jessalyn pulled Jane into a fierce embrace. “I’m so glad we’re sisters now. I’ve needed a friend like you for a very long time.”
Jane hugged her in return. “Sisters. I like the sound of that.”
The two women drew apart when the rest of their small group crowded around. For a quarter of an hour, they milled around as everyone laughed and commented on the wonder of the evening. Ethan took Jessalyn’s
hand again as they all headed back toward the castle. Their breath misted in the frosty air.
Ethan slowed his steps and let a little distance fall between them and the rest of the group. “There’s something I need to do in the morning. It will be cold, and it’s a bit of a walk, but I’d like it if you went with me.”
“Of course,” Jessalyn agreed, glad he’d asked her. “Where are we going?”
“To the family cemetery,” he murmured. “I think it’s time I finally said goodbye to my ghosts.”
* * * * *
After a sumptuous breakfast the next morning, Ethan and Jessalyn gathered with the others in the parlor before the elegantly decorated Christmas tree and exchanged gifts. He thought she’d been quite pleased with the sapphire ring he’d given her. And he’d been touched by her gift of illustrations for his book.
He hadn’t realized she’d already accomplished so much or that she was such a talented artist. With her help, he was certain his book would be well received.
But once the festivities were over and the various couples had drifted away to rest before the dinner and dancing planned for the evening, he made sure Jessalyn was bundled tightly against the cold and escorted her outside. The family cemetery lay nearly a half mile from the castle on a hillside overlooking the lake.
Fitting, he thought grimly, since the lake had taken so much of his family and never let them go. Their breath puffed before them in the cold, but it wasn’t unbearable, especially at the quick pace he set.
Jessalyn kept up beside him, and he was grateful for her silence. She seemed to realize that while he needed her presence at his side, he couldn’t bear to answer any questions. This was something he had to make peace within his own mind. He could never explain it to her.
The fence stuck stubbornly, frozen from both cold and disuse, and he struggled with it for a moment before it finally opened. They passed through it and into the small plot with its towering old trees and cold marble statues. He hadn’t been here since the tragedy, and it took him a few moments to find what he was looking for, even though there weren’t many graves.