Absolute Surrender

by LeBlanc, Jenn

  Her mother. What a—

  Amelia needed Hugh because her own mother wasn’t the least bit understanding of her illness. Hugh was the only person in her life she trusted, save Louisa, because Hugh had always been there, had never turned her away, was a rock of permanence in her twisting sea of emotion. Charles understood now, that for him to gain her trust, he had to do the same, and it could take years. After all, how long had Hugh been this for her? Charles would be this for her as well. Someday. It didn’t change the fact that Hugh already was this person, and surprisingly, Charles didn’t begrudge Hugh that anymore. But Charles knew without a doubt that to gain her trust, he could never remove Hugh from her life.

  In fact, Charles had to find a way for Hugh to be part of their life, and Charles had to be sure she understood that Charles would never come between the two of them. In the mean, he understood what Hugh had tried to explain before, something Charles simply couldn’t understand at the time. That this thing between Hugh and Amelia really wasn’t something to be learned.

  Charles still hoped that someday he might learn what it meant, how it felt, to be that close to another soul. Then, and only then, he might gain enough trust to be a part of her future. The man who could accomplish this truly did deserve her, and Charles meant to become that man.

  Hugh could feel the tension in Charles next to him. Knew Charles was thinking their situation through and thought for certain that Charles would come to the proper determination. That Charles could not leave her, Charles could never leave her, Charles was her future and their life together was all entirely possible.

  Hugh smiled. He couldn’t help it. Amelia finally opened her eyes over the rim of the teacup and looked at him, then at Charles and leaned against Charles’s shoulder. Hugh downed the rest of her tea, then shuddered.

  “Good God, woman, how do you drink this? It’s sweeter than maple candies.” This brought a smile, and Hugh felt the reward of it. Hugh looked at Charles and could see that he was relaxing some. Hugh knew he must be in a deal of pain and was impressed by his ability to put that aside. Again, he was impressed with this man. Again and again and again. Hugh shook his head and moved to another chair before the fire.

  “So…” Hugh let the word drift off a bit. He wasn’t entirely sure how to proceed at the moment, then his eye caught on the book he’d brought in with the laundry. He stood and retrieved it, then returned to the chair. Perhaps he could help Charles for once. The book fell open, and he read…

  “Not the weapon of a man, but a Maypole, of so enormous a standard, that had proportions been observed, it must have belonged to a young giant. Yet I could not, without pleasure, behold, and even venture to feel, such a length, such a breadth of animated ivory! Perfectly well turned and fashioned, the proud stiffness of which distented its skin, whose smooth polish and velvet softness might vie with the most delicate of our sex, and whose exquisite whiteness was not a little set off by a sprout of black curling hair round the root…”

  Hugh looked up to find them both staring at him. He grinned. “Well, the mystery of the maypole has been solved. One of them, anyway.” Hugh stood. Their eyes followed his every move. He leaned to Amelia, bussed her cheek, then slapped Charles on the shoulder. “I found the wash tub in perfect working order. So I’ve started a fire in the outside grate. I’m warming kettles of water, and I’ll be doing some laundry. As best I can, at any rate.” Hugh wandered the Cliff House, collecting random bits of linen, a sheet, his waistcoat, his shirt, then he turned back to Amelia.

  “I need this as well.” Hugh reached for the placket of Charles’s shirt, his fingertips skimming the blushing flesh as he uncovered her chest further, then carefully, as she wiggled to help him, pulled the tail of the shirt from under her bum and pulled it over her head.

  Amelia’s hair fell to her shoulders in a shower of brilliant color. Her breasts bounced against her chest as her arms fell back to her lap, and if Charles had ever once thought he could never be harder, he’d been wrong every damned time. He heard the door to the Cliff House close, but he couldn’t take his eyes from Amelia. “This is going to be painful,” Charles said in that voice that he didn’t recognize as his own.

  Amelia’s eyes widened, and her hands trembled. Charles shook his head slowly to and fro. “I was referring to myself.”

  Amelia’s lips dropped into an O, and he caught sight of that perfect pink tongue, homed in on it, took her face in his hands as gently as his overwrought countenance would allow and brought her mouth to his. Charles sucked that pink from her mouth into his and held on for all his life, attempting to control his want…for he did not wish to give her any pain.

  As well, Charles did not wish to ruin her just yet. Beyond that, it was not his choice that he should be the doing of it. It was hers. She may yet want Hugh to be the one to breach her maidenhead. It seemed all too likely, even as much as this one action yet rankled with him, but Charles would allow it.

  Allow. That wasn’t the right word, for it wasn’t up to him to allow. That was to be her decision, and one Charles would not take from her lightly, because he wanted it—her maidenhead. Charles wanted it badly. That pure male part of him wanted to be the first to traverse her sweetness, be streaked with her virgin blood, to claim her in the most primal and official of ways. But his feelings for her allowed that this illness of hers might not allow for that.

  Pure want had been bred into him. To relinquish that which he wanted was not a natural thing. It was difficult.

  Charles pulled back and looked into her glassy eyes as a stray thought occurred to him. Could he raise Hugh’s child as his own? He watched her face as though for the answer, even as he knew she’d no idea the question. Yet something more they would need to discuss, regardless that Hugh had no notion that these thoughts were in his head…and his head churned like a meat grinder on all of them. The thoughts, the considerations, the complications. This was what he did, and well.

  Charles was trained to see all facets of a situation and find the most efficient, effective and prosperous path. That was of little help to him here. He needed to shift his paradigm. He needed the best possible outcome for Amelia. It was that simple…so not at all simple, really.

  Charles smoothed a thumb over her cheek and thought he understood a little how her mind had off with her. If he couldn’t control his runaway thoughts, if he were so passionate as to be unable to stop their flow, their power… He knew she had that in her without doubt, because he knew she understood to her very core his own loneliness. A loneliness Charles himself hadn’t felt in years.

  Amelia’s hands came to his chest. Her thumbs teased his nipples, as her eyes dropped to his mouth.

  “Amelia, I—”

  She shook her head, then bravely stood from the chair, fully naked before him and not the least bit bashful in this moment. She was stunning, and Charles was floored. His breath stopped as his eyes feasted. He was pained, so very pained, but he watched her and knew he had to hold himself longer. Charles could see thoughts cross her face. Confusion, contentment, love perhaps, pain. He watched as all the evidence of her musings was clear in the emotion on her face. Charles stilled, waited for her determination. There was nothing about her that said her mind was having off with her, and until there was…he would give her all the time she needed.

  “There is something…” She paused as she considered more. “I don’t think I can live without Hugh.”

  “I’ve also made this determination, and I intend to see to it that he agrees to be a part of our life together,” Charles said quietly.

  Her chest hitched in a sudden breath, and he knew she was caught off guard. “How will this affect your position?” she asked.

  “It won’t. I’ll not allow it. Somehow…we’ll figure this out. I’m not sure what this will look like, as I only just determined it necessary. While I hope that someday you trust me—”

  “I do trust you,” she said, cutting him off.

  “I understand that what you have with
him is deeper than that, and for lack of a better word, trust is the one we’ll use. Thank you, though, for trusting me,” he said.

  “I do. I merely have to convince my mind of that fact and—”

  “And there’s no telling how long that would take. Years, perhaps…perhaps never. Hugh has been part of your life since you were very young. You truly love him, and he you. I’ve considered it entirely possible that this is what binds him to you, and there’s no way to sever that. No way to imitate it as well. Beyond that, I could never in good conscience destroy something so…incredible.” Charles’s calm talk on the subject impressed even himself. “Hugh will need convincing. He believes that he’ll throw us together and move on with his life, but I can see in him that moving on isn’t possible. I saw the realization in him earlier, but he’s refusing to accept it.” Charles took her hands in his, smoothed his thumbs over them, then looked back up to her. “I don’t think this conversation is what Hugh expected when he read from Fanny Hill and removed your shirt.”

  Amelia laughed, and he basked in the glory of it, allowed his pure enjoyment to show on his face, then pulled her to him and wrapped his arms around her and held on. Her hands tangled in his hair, and her breath quickened in the movement of her belly against his cheek. Then Charles felt a tremor, and he looked up to her.

  “I need…we need Hugh.”

  Charles stood as his hands skimmed up the length of her, then he kissed her quickly and went to the door without a single complaint or question. He opened the door and paused there. Charles was strong, efficient, reasonable—all things she never felt in herself. Amelia moved to the bed, pulled a sheet from it, and wrapped herself up. She turned to see them both watching her, then he shut the door and waited.

  She clasped her hands on the sheet, in front of her breasts.

  Her aching breasts.

  She knew what she wanted. Amelia now understood what Charles meant by want. Charles was always talking about his want, and until yesterday she’d not understood. She wanted for Charles. She had this incredible want of him, to have him inside her physically as he was already in her blood and her mind. The problem was that every time she was close to him, she lost herself, so concentrated was she on him that her mind would spin, she forgot to feel, and then—without Hugh—she was gone.

  She took a deep, steadying breath and was thankful for the sheet—more due to fear than modesty—because she wanted to hide.

  “I believe we’ve come to the point at which we need to make some very specific decisions,” Amelia said.

  Hugh and Charles exchanged a glance, then looked back to her.

  “Charles, I’ve always expected to marry you. It was a foregone conclusion in my mind. I was told you could protect me and that you were necessary to my future, and I’ve believed that wholeheartedly. What I wish for you to know is that in the interim years between our ridiculous childhood and the moment you began to court me in earnest, my opinion of you changed.

  “It wasn’t merely that you grew into a man, but that you’re growing into your heart, and I can plainly see myself in there through all the confusion.”

  Charles swallowed hard, looked away, pinched the bridge of his nose, then looked back to her and nodded. She wasn’t sure whether she expected him to say something, but it wasn’t necessary.

  Amelia turned to Hugh. “Hugh, you’ve always been.” She shrugged. It was that simple. “That, my dearest friend, is the crux of it. You’re a requirement in this life even though I cannot see a solution. I love you now more than I ever have before, because I’ve seen a possibility in you that I never knew existed.” Amelia saw Hugh’s eyes widen, then they darted to Charles and back to her.

  “That is…the simple of it,” she said quietly.

  The room was silent, and Amelia looked at Charles, who turned to Hugh.

  “She’ll not give you up.” Charles paused, taking stock of Hugh, who seemed to be very concerned with his shoes. “And…neither will I. You’re a requirement to what makes this work. I know not how this will happen. I only know that it will, and the sooner you come to terms with that fact, the sooner we’ll all be able to live.”

  Amelia watched as Hugh shifted uncomfortably, and it seemed an age before he spoke. “I came here…I brought Charles here…for you, Amelia.” Hugh looked up and caught her eyes and refused to look away, would not allow her to shy. She was caught. “From the moment we arrived, I’ve wondered how I would be able to walk away from you after this. The easiest of all scenarios was to toss myself from these cliffs, because there would be no return, no feeling, no life to argue afterward.” Hugh’s voice quavered.

  Amelia could see in his gaze nothing but the reality of this statement, that death would be the easiest way to walk away from her. “I knew this would happen,” she said. “I knew you could not be pulled into this without damage to yourself, and I warned you. Hugh, I…know that feeling well, but cannot allow for that to happen.”

  “You misunderstand me. I would never, not ever, take the easy way out where you’re concerned, Amelia. Were I that kind of man, I wouldn’t be worthy of you.” Hugh stilled. Waited. She was sure none of them knew what they waited for. Hugh looked peaceful, as though he’d been holding this back.

  Charles, on the other hand, looked much more…aggrieved and pained. She wished to alleviate this, at least the physical aspect of it.

  So very much.

  “Charles?” she said quietly.

  “It seems we are at an impasse,” Hugh said.

  Charles tensed. Looked rather angry.

  Amelia closed her eyes and willed her mind to the point at hand. She looked at Charles, who stood not far from the bed, his jaw tight as he took her in. “I want—” She cleared her throat…the spin, the spin, she knew an episode was coming. She forced her mind to embrace it, but she needed to get through this next bit for her plan to work. She knew Charles was at a tipping point. In all she’d learned from Fanny Hill, in everything Hugh and Charles had said, in everything she’d seen in Charles’s very actions, she knew Charles could not hold off if pushed. As for Hugh…she closed her eyes and hoped.

  Please, God, let me say my piece, she thought as she allowed the swirl to gain.

  She opened her eyes. Her heartbeat raced.

  Keep it short and sweet.

  She looked directly at Charles. “I demand that you take me to wife, Charles.” Her chest heaved beneath her hands.

  Silence.

  Her demand was met with silence.

  “Th-this is what I want. If you truly are both here to see to my happiness, and nothing more, then marry me. Be done with this waffling and take me to wife, Charles. Do it now.”

  “What did you say?” Charles ground out as he shifted his stance.

  She truly had taken him off guard.

  Charles looked rather terrifying at the moment. Perhaps…perhaps she should have thought this through.

  “I said…I wish for you to…I would like very much if you—”

  “No, Amelia, what exactly did you say?” Charles’s voice dropped. It was almost feral.

  A shudder coursed her spine then seemed to settle near her womb, warming her from the inside out.

  “I said…” She sank to the bed, before her knees gave up completely. Closing her eyes to steel herself, she raised her hand to stay him then took a deep breath and opened her eyes. “I demanded that you marry me, Charles. I asked that you take me to wife.”

  “You want me to take you to wife?” His voice was harsh, sharp at the edges.

  She nodded. That nod was all she could effort in response, and she was grateful for it.

  “What…here? Now?” Charles asked stiffly.

  “Yes. Here and now,” Amelia said.

  Hugh spoke up then, seemed to be jarred from his silence. “Amelia, that isn’t within the realm of—”

  Charles stalked toward the end of the bed, cutting off Hugh’s thought. Then something broke in Charles’s eyes as she watched. “Let me say this so tha
t you understand that I mean it.” Charles took her shoulders. Pulled her to her feet. He surely marked her skin with his fingers. “I marry you, Amelia. Here and now. I marry you with your best friend as a witness. I marry you before God and my parents in heaven. I marry you, Amelia. I will take you to wife.”

  Amelia’s breath stopped, and Charles lifted her farther, letting the sheet slip away as he pulled her flush against him. He breathed against her jaw, and her whole body shook. “You amaze me,” Charles said softly, and she knew that Charles understood she’d done this intentionally. She’d meant to call this reaction forth in herself. The darkness came at the very edges of her periphery, and she was only happy she’d managed to say her piece first. She’d held out through so very much, and now she was thoroughly taxed. She collapsed into his arms.

  “Hugh,” was all Charles said, and that she felt more than heard, until Hugh was behind her, his hands on her shoulders, smoothing down her arms. She knew there’d been no way Hugh would abandon her when she needed him in this way.

  Charles watched her closely. It took some time, but once her heart steadied and her vision cleared on him, Charles spoke again.

  “You have a choice, Amelia, and I want to hear this from you. I want you to truly consider this choice. I would like to give you as much time as you need, but you must understand at this moment, I have very little—”

  “You, Charles, I want it to be you.”

  A crash. His mouth possessed hers in such a way she truly believed the world would be able to see that claiming whenever they looked on her from here on out—and perhaps they would. Her hands flew back and latched on to Hugh behind her, held him.

  This, she thought. This. I’ve waited the whole of my life to feel this and not be terrified.