“I believe you, Clare. And thank God he did, too.”
Giles got up and sat down beside her on the bed. He took her hands in his. “You have small hands, Clare, but I am grateful that you held my life in them, for they are stronger than they look. As you are.”
“They were shaking so I had to clutch the pistol with both of them,” she murmured. “And I was holding on to it so tightly that I couldn’t let it go.... Oh, Giles, I wish ...”
“You wish what, my dear?”
“I wish I were ...” Clare paused and took a deep breath. “No, I don’t. I don’t wish I could be the Clare you fell in love with. I just wish you could love who I am now.”
Giles wanted to catch her up in his arms and prove both his love and passion physically, but he forced himself to sit very still. “I have thought a lot about what you said to me, Clare. Indeed, I have had nothing but time to think these past few days. And maybe the darkness of that hellhole made some things clearer. You were right. I have not wanted to face the truth of what lies between us.”
“And what is that, Giles?” she asked quietly.
“My anger, for one thing. I was furious, Clare. And I couldn’t allow myself to be. I thought it would make things more difficult for you and for all of us, and so I ignored it. As I ignored my heartbreak.” Giles let go of her hands and said lightly: “My heart did break, you know. But I blithely ignored that and went on being your selfless friend Giles. You hurt me so very much when you chose Rainsborough, Clare.”
“I knew I must have,” she whispered.
“I am ashamed to confess that a part of me was almost glad that you eventually suffered from that decision, too. When you lost your baby—I didn’t know the reason then, of course—I thought to myself: had she married me, this wouldn’t have happened. And in the courtroom, when you told your story, there was again that dark side of me that smiled to himself and thought: “Maybe she deserved this, for being so foolish as to let her passion blind her.” Giles put his head in his hands and groaned. “Oh, God, I am so ashamed to admit this. And when we made love, do not think it was all you, Clare. Sometimes I would hear that dark voice saying: ‘You didn’t really wish for a passionate response, did you? Look what it led to last time.’ ”
Even though she knew Giles needed to say these things, it hurt to hear them, and Clare could not stop the tears or check her sobs. Oh, please, Giles, please, she thought, do not leave me alone in this now. If he couldn’t somehow love her despite all this, she knew they would stay cold and separate the rest of their married lives. She sat crying for what seemed a long time, but it was only a minute or so before Giles, so afraid of touching her, touched her anyway.
He put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close to him.
“I didn’t want to hurt you, Clare. Or maybe I did,” he wondered aloud. “But we had to have the truth between us at last.” Her shoulders finally stopped shaking, and Giles let her go. Her blond curls were all tousled, her eyes swollen and red, but she had never looked so beautiful to him. He leaned over and gently licked the tears off her cheeks, his tongue reaching into the corner of her mouth, where they had gathered. As he started to kiss her, he felt her shiver and pulled back immediately.
“If you don’t want me, Clare, I understand.” She answered by pulling him down to her again and opening her mouth to his.
Their kiss was long and deep, and Clare wanted it to go on forever. She moaned with disappointment when Giles finally released her.
He looked down at her and said tenderly and humorously: “I am not sure what I can promise you tonight, Clare, for I am still a little tired from my ordeal. But I would like it if you stayed with me tonight.”
As an answer, Clare merely busied her hands with the belt of his dressing gown, and Giles laughed softly. After she released the knot, he turned her around so that he could open her dress.
They both stood up at the same time, so that their clothes fell from them, and Giles caught her to him.
“I think you have recovered, Giles,” said Clare with a low laugh as she felt his manhood pressing against her thigh.
“We shall see just how much endurance I have, though,” he teased as he pulled her down on the bed.
The beginnings of their lovemaking had always been good, and this was no exception. But at first, both of them were wondering what would happen at the end. Soon, however, they were lost in sensation: Clare melting away as Giles lazily circled her breast with his tongue, and Giles, realizing that his tiredness had certain benefits, for he was in no rush to experience his own release, but content to move slowly.
They were lying side by side, and Giles was languorously running his fingers up her thigh and slowly seeking out her center of pleasure. Clare was lying still, wondering if she would experience the same block as before. And for one moment of fear she did. She knew Giles felt her stiffen as his fingers found her and started their slow, gentle caressing. It was as though a wall dropped between them.
And then something in Clare, life, love, whatever it was that had enabled her to say “no” to Justin at last, rose up from the depths of her being. She was only conscious that her voice was saying: “Yes, yes.” Perhaps I needed to learn “no” before I could say a “yes,” she thought wonderingly as Giles moved on top of her and entered her. His movements were at first as excruciatingly and pleasurably slow as before, but as she closed her legs around him and drew him in deeper, all his languor fell away, as did her hesitation, and they let their passion drive them to a shattering climax. Clare’s ecstasy had been almost silent, but Giles sobbed out his wife’s name as he found his release. When he lifted himself off her, she touched his wet cheek as he smoothed her hair back from her face.
“I never dreamed ... but, no, I have dreamed for years,” Giles whispered. “But it was never like this.”
“I am not sure where you begin and I end, Giles. I think I felt your pleasure more than my own. Yet that might not be possible,” she whispered shyly.
Giles gathered her in his arms, and they fell asleep in moments, like children.
Chapter Thirty-four
The entire household was, of course, aware that Lord and Lady Whitton had shared a bed the night before, and there was a pleasant energy permeating the house when Andrew More arrived the next morning.
“Is Lady Sabrina available, Henley? And how is Lord Whitton?”
“Lady Sabrina is in the breakfast room. And Lord Whitton is recovering well, I would say,” announced Henley, seeming very pleased with himself, as though he were personally responsible for Giles’s recovery, thought Andrew as he walked upstairs.
Sabrina jumped up as soon as she saw him at the door. “Andrew! I thought you would have been here yesterday evening. Whatever happened in court?”
“Sit down my lady jack-in-the-box,” teased Andrew, “and I will tell you.” He walked over to the sideboard and started filling his plate. “I am ravenous,” he declared as he spooned eggs and kippers and sausage.
“Andrew!”
“Messrs. Oldfield et al. each received two years’ hard labor. And young Mr. Grantham got his money back. He will continue at Inner Temple, and, no doubt, make a fine solicitor.”
Sabrina jumped up again and threw her arms around Andrew.
“It is very lucky for my waistcoat that I know your fits and starts, Sabrina,” he said affectionately, holding his plate high as she hugged him fiercely.
“Oh, damn your breakfast, Andrew.”
Andrew sighed, put the plate on the sideboard, and kissed Sabrina soundly.
“Now, that is quite enough,” he said as the kiss began to arouse him. “Henley will throw me out of here if I am not careful.”
Sabrina released him reluctantly. “Oh, go back to your sausages and eggs, Andrew. I am sure I don’t care.”
Andrew gave her one more kiss for good measure before rescuing his plate and sitting down next to her.
“How is Giles this morning?”
“Since it is a
ll over the household that Lord and Lady Whitton spent the night together, I assume he is quite recovered.”
“Clare sat by him the night before, didn’t she?”
“Sitting up in a chair while he slept. I do not think she spent last night in the wing chair, Andrew.”
“You are incorrigible and shameless, Sabrina.” Andrew laughed. “But I am very glad to see you back to your old self.”
“And I am very glad to have those villains out of commission. Do you intend to charge them with kidnapping also?”
“I think I will leave that up to Giles.”
“What will you leave up to me, Andrew,” said a voice from the doorway.
“Giles! Shouldn’t you be in bed?” exclaimed Sabrina.
“Excuse my dressing gown, Andrew, Sabrina. And no, Sabrina, I have spent enough hours lying around this past week. I don’t think I could stand being confined to my bedchamber.” Giles spoke lightly, but Andrew could tell that he was quite serious.
“I am sorry that you had to go through all this, Giles. I, we all felt so helpless.”
“Except for my valiant wife!”
“Dear God, when I think of how she got us out of the house so she could confront Oldfield,” exclaimed Andrew.
“Do you know how she convinced him? She held a pistol to his head and revealed herself as the infamous Lady Rainsborough. When he asked her what she would do if he refused to lead her to me, she calmly declared she would kill him and summon one of his partners!”
“Imagine Clare Dysart bullying such a man.”
“Not Clare Dysart or Clare Rainsborough any longer, Andrew,” said Giles seriously. “Clare Whitton. At long last.” Giles sat down next to his sister and looked over at his friend. “I am ravenous, Andrew. Would you fill me a plate?”
“My dear Giles, for your chivalrous foolishness, for which I will be forever grateful, I would come over and serve you breakfast every day for the rest of my life.”
“Where is Clare, Giles?” Sabrina asked quietly.
“Upstairs. Still sleeping. I think this took as much out of her as it did me.”
“Out of all of us, Giles.”
Giles patted her hand.
“I knew you were not dead,” added his sister. “But I could still feel that you were suffering.”
“It was not too bad, the first day or two. It was only toward the end. Lord, that stench! I don’t know if I will ever get it out of my nostrils. But it is over. Or is it, Andrew? How did the trial go?”
“I won, Giles, and those villains will be locked away for two years. Unless you want to prosecute them further? We could get them for kidnapping, you know, with Clare’s testimony.”
“Absolutely not,” said Giles quietly but firmly. “I would never subject her to that again. But they need not know that, of course. You might try and get word to them that they have that hanging over their heads, lest they are tempted to send Tall Man and Toad for revenge.”
“Tall Man and Toad?” asked Sabrina.
“My name for my jailers, Brina.”
“All right, Giles, we will leave it for now.”
* * * *
Clare slept until mid-morning, when the sun pouring through the window onto her pillow woke her. She turned sleepily to Giles, only to discover he wasn’t next to her. She lay there, lonely and desolate, wondering whether last night was only a dream. Or an isolated occurrence. Perhaps it was only that Giles’s guard had been down. Perhaps this morning he would be seeing things differently.
She was empty beyond tears as she lay there, imagining the worst. She could not go back to their marriage as it had been. She could not. There was a soft knock at the door, and Martha came in.
“I hope I didn’t wake you, my lady.”
“No, Martha. The sun woke me.” Clare started to sit up and then blushed, remembering that she was naked under the sheets. She was also stiff and sticky from lovemaking.
“I would love a bath, Martha. Could you have the hot water brought up? And some fresh towels.”
“Of course, my lady. Do you want some chocolate?”
“Later, thank you, Martha. And Lord Whitton? Is he up and about this morning?”
“Yes, my lady. He joined Lady Sabrina and Mr. More for breakfast a few hours ago and is in the library now, I believe.”
Clare’s heart sank. Giles was clearly on his way to recovery and had left her there to wake alone. She closed her eyes and dozed while the maids filled her bath, and dismissed them and Martha as soon as the water was ready.
It felt good to slip down into the scented water. She could feel all her protesting muscles relax, and she rested her head against the bath and closed her eyes.
She dozed off again for a few minutes, but wakened when she heard the door open quietly. Without opening her eyes, she murmured: “Do you have more hot water, Martha? The bath is cooling down.”
There was a murmur of assent, and Clare sank down farther as the hot water slid over her shoulders and breasts.
“Let me relax you more, Clare,” said a deep voice, and Clare’s eyes flew open as Giles’s hands began to knead her neck and shoulder muscles. She pushed herself up, but Giles held her there gently.
“I thought you might sleep the day away,” he said.
“Is that why you left me?” Clare blurted out.
“I was afraid if I stayed, I would not have been able to keep myself from awakening you,” he replied.
“Oh,” whispered Clare.
“Did you miss me, Clare?”
She nodded and then took a deep breath as his hands, now lathered, began to soap her back, and then her breasts and belly. When he reached between her legs, she protested. “Giles, it is broad daylight. And I am in my bath!”
“And delightfully wet and pink, my dear. And slippery,” he added as his fingers parted her. “I can feel your own wetness, even with all this water.”
And so could Clare. At that moment, she would have pulled Giles in, had there been room.
“Have you ever been to Bath, Giles?" she murmured.
“Clare!” exclaimed Giles in a mock-injured tone. “At such a moment you are only interested in my travels?”
Clare caught his wrist and turned to face him. “I was only thinking, Giles, that we had something to learn from the Romans if we’d only paid attention. At least there was room for more than one in their baths.”
Giles chuckled. “You are a little sensualist, Clare.”
“I am sorry,” she said, embarrassed.
“Sorry? I am delighted. If I could only coax you out of your bath, I can assure you there is room on the bed, wife.”
Clare stood up, and Giles held her hand as she stepped out. He reached out to hold one shimmering breast in his hand. “You are like Venus, rising from the sea,” he whispered. “No, don’t put a towel around you,” he said as she started to cover herself up. He stood and let his dressing gown fall open.
“I think you need a bath, too,” she said with a glint in her eye.
“Perhaps I do, I can still smell that stench hanging around me.”
He stepped in and lowered himself into the warm water. Clare knelt beside the tub and ran her hand around the water, searching for the bar of soap Giles had dropped.
“Here it is,” she said.
“Oh, no it is not.”
“But it is hard and slippery, like soap, and keeps slipping out of my fingers,” she teased.
Giles groaned. “Oh, God, Clare, stop. I am not as tired as I was last night.”
“Then you are clean enough,” she laughed, pulling at his hand. “Now we are both wet and slippery.”
“Are you sure a British bath won’t hold two, Clare?” he asked, pulling her in on top of him.
“Giles! The water is splashing all over the floor!”
“It is good, clean water, Clare. And it will dry.”
Clare gave in to the delightful sensation as Giles’s manhood slipped and slid between her legs and against her belly. It was somethin
g like bobbing for apples, she thought, as she would try to position herself over him and he would slip away.
“You are torturing me, woman.”
Finally, Clare reached down and placed Giles just where she needed him to be and lowered herself gently onto him. He slid in, and she fit him like a glove. For a moment she sat still, enjoying the feeling of him filling and stretching her. Then he placed his hands on her hips and moved her gently.
Her mouth opened into a sweet “Oh,” and he pulled her down farther and thrust his tongue in as she lifted herself up and down on him.
“Yes, Clare, yes. It is your turn to ride,” he murmured when the kiss was done.
Giles didn’t notice the hardness of the tub against his back, nor Clare the splashing of the water over the sides as they rocked together. Just as Giles was about to climax, he slipped his hand between her thighs and lifting her just a little, filled her, and caressed her at the same time, so that they came together.
She sank down on him, gasping and sobbing into his shoulder while he stroked her hair.
After a moment he whispered into her ear: “Clare, I must get up, or I will turn into a corkscrew.”
She nodded against his shoulder but didn’t move.
“Clare, really, I am cramping up.”
“Where, Giles?” she asked, moving her hand down. He caught her wrist. “Oh, no, you are not going to start again.”
“I find the tub a perfect fit, Giles,” she teased.
“That is fine for you to say, my little pocket Venus. I am a good foot taller than you, and my leg is cramping, really, Claire.”
She climbed out as he stood up with a grimace on his face.
“It is not funny, woman,” he protested, hearing her giggle as he tried to flex his toes.
Clare picked up one of the towels and wrapped it around her. “Here, Giles, you will get chilled,” she said, and handed one to him.
Giles wrapped it around his waist, and walked up and down a few paces to work the cramp out of his leg.
Most of the water was out of the bath and on the floor, and Clare started mopping it up with the last towel.
Sweet Awakening Page 35