by Mary Campisi
“Emily?” There was a hint of amusement in his voice.
She kept her head low, eyes shut tight.
He chuckled. “Would you look at me, please?”
She shook her head.
“You have to look at me, sometime.”
“Not necessarily,” she mumbled into the sheet.
He sighed, and she guessed he was trying to be patient.
“I’m your husband. You’ve seen me naked before.” He touched her shoulder. She flinched but he didn’t remove his hand. “And I’ve seen you naked, too.”
“It was the nightgown,” she blurted out.
“The nightgown?”
Her head bobbed up and down. “If I hadn’t worn it, none of this would have happened.”
“None of what?”
“This,” she said, waving a hand in the air, but still refusing to look at him. “Me. You. Naked. Together. Doing things.”
“And that’s what you’re upset about?” He took a deep breath and let it out on a long sigh.
“I told you not to come back, and you did anyway.”
“You knew I would,” he said, annoyance clear in his voice. “And if I hadn’t you would have been even more upset.”
She said nothing.
“Isn’t that right?” he prodded.
“That’s beside the point.” It was, wasn’t it? “I told you not to come and you did and if I hadn’t been wearing that nightgown none of this would have happened.”
Noah remained silent for a full minute. When he spoke, his words fell over her like a soft caress. “You could have been wearing a sack cloth, and I would have done the same things to you. I like doing things to you, Emily. I like it a lot. As a matter of fact, there are a few things I would like to do to you right now.” His fingers inched down her back, tracing circles on her skin.
“I acted no better than Desiree or Monique.”
His laughter came out in gulps as though he’d tried to restrain himself and couldn’t. “Really, Emily.” He laughed again.
“I know.” She shook her head in misery. “I acted no better than one of them.”
The laughter stopped. Noah’s strong fingers found her chin and forced her head up. “Listen to me,” he said, his brown eyes blazing as he scanned her face. “You’re my wife. We shared great passion in this room. If you deny everything else about us, for God’s sake, don’t deny that. What happened tonight had nothing to do with the damned nightgown or wanton behavior. It had to do with passion. And need. Don’t apologize and don’t be ashamed of it.”
She saw the twitch in his jaw and knew she’d hurt him.
“I said nothing about love tonight because you’re not ready to discuss it.” He sat up and rifled a hand through his hair. “You think I only want the use of your body to meet my baser needs.”
The bitterness in his words stung, but she pretended they didn’t bother her. “I told you, I won’t let you hurt me again. You said this charade would be over in three days. That’s tomorrow.”
“I can count.”
“Good.” She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from crying. Who was this man who stared back at her with such coldness? How could he be the same one who’d made love to her less than an hour ago with such consuming passion? He seemed a stranger with his brooding stare. How was it possible to feel such closeness one minute and such distance the next?
“Let’s get some sleep,” Noah said. “We’ll talk about this in the morning.”
Emily grabbed his forearm. “Wait! You can’t sleep here.”
He shrugged her arm off. “I can’t?” His words were soft, too soft.
“No, you can’t,” she stammered, feeling self-conscious and awkward. And very naked. She tugged on the sheet to cover her bare leg, but Noah’s thigh weighed it down. She yanked at the counterpane and pulled it to her chin.
“Good night, Emily,” Noah said, as though he hadn’t heard a word she’d just said. He leaned over and snuffed out the lamp, casting the room in darkness, save the sliver of moon that slipped through the gap in the draperies.
“But, you can’t—”
“I know,” he sighed. “I can’t stay with you tonight.” He moved to his side and pulled Emily against him.
He wasn’t going to leave. This just wouldn’t do. What if Cyrus came knocking on her door in the morning? What if she were sick? Noah was too smart not to guess she was with child. She could tell him it was an upset from last evening’s meal. Of course, that would be another lie but what was one more lie in the long trail that paved their relationship? Her stomach twisted into a knot. Lies. Would she and Noah ever stop telling them to one another? Was he lying to her now when he professed his love? She didn’t know and it filled her heart with such overwhelming sadness that she ached.
“Good night, Emily.” His words floated to her, soft and sensuous in the night.
He wasn’t going to leave. And he was drifting off to sleep. The knowledge pricked every nerve in her body. Well, then fine, let him stay, but she’d see he got no sleep. “Cyrus saw you the other day,” she said. That would rouse him.
“Hmm.”
One mumbled half word was not the response she anticipated. “He’s determined to catch you.”
“Hmm.”
“And he asked me if I saw you.” There. Stew about that for a minute or two.
“Did you tell him you saw every inch of me?” The laughter in his voice was too much.
“You!” She tried to struggle from his hold but he held her down like a nasty pest. “Don’t you care that Cyrus is after you? Could catch you? That I could have turned you in?” She maneuvered a few inches, trying to work her way to her side. Noah’s arm went with her, landing on her hip. Her bare hip. She squirmed but he only pressed her deeper into his side. She froze when she felt the coarse hair on his legs brushing the inside of her thighs.
“You wouldn’t turn me in.” The certainty in his voice annoyed her. She didn’t know what bothered her more, the fact that he was right or that he knew he was right. “As for Mandrey, I’ll take my chances.”
“You do that,” she hissed, angry at his arrogance. “But you have one more day to end this charade and if you don’t, I will turn you in.”
“And see me hang by my ankles,” Noah added, as though her threat didn’t bother him one bit.
“Toes,” she ground out.
“Toes?”
“I’ll see you hang by your toes. Much, much more painful,” she assured him.
Noah pulled her closer. “Dear wife, how will I ever get used to such unadulterated adoration?”
Chapter 18
Emily rolled onto her stomach, arms outstretched, uncurling one finger at a time as she shed the last layers of slumber. Her body felt warm and languid, like a rose gifted with the full bounty of sunshine. She sighed. Perhaps she’d drift back to her dreams a little while longer. Noah would be there, he always was, touching her with strong hands, watching her with dark, unreadable eyes, tasting her with full, firm lips. She smiled. Yes, she would dream just a little longer.
A rap on the door jolted her from her thoughts. “Emily, wake up. It’s eleven o’clock. Are you planning to sleep all day?” Cyrus’s voice rasped through the door.
“I’m…awake,” Emily said on a yawn.
“It’s a gorgeous day. I thought we’d take a walk if you’re feeling up to it.”
Emily buried her head under the pillow. She’d rather get back to her dream but Cyrus was much too persistent to leave her alone. Besides, dreams were just that. Dreams. She preferred to keep hers tucked away in the recesses of her brain for midnight perusing or early morning wanderings. Throwing back the covers, Emily flung her legs over the side of the bed and called out, “Fifteen minutes, Cyrus. I’ll see you then.”
She heard him turn away, whistling as he went down the hall.
Twenty minutes later, Emily grabbed two buttermilk biscuits from the sideboard, tucked them in a napkin, and headed out the door. Cyrus waited for
her on a bench near the maze.
“Good morning,” she said, smiling at him.
“And good afternoon to you,” he returned, smiling back.
“I guess I was more tired than I realized.” And who wouldn’t be with a virile, demanding husband like Noah Sandleton?
“It’s to be expected of a woman in your condition.”
He was referring to the baby, of course. A pang of sadness struck her as she realized Cyrus knew about her unborn child but Noah did not. She pushed her feelings away. It wasn’t time to tell him yet. She had to see if he’d keep his word and then she’d tell him. Within the next twelve hours she’d know if he’d betrayed her. Again.
Why couldn’t Noah be more like Cyrus? Dependable, honest, trustworthy. “I’ll miss you when you’re gone, Cyrus.”
“I’ll miss you too,” Cyrus said as they rounded a corner of the rose garden and headed into the maze.
“What will you do when you leave here?” She hated to think of him alone.
He smiled. “There’s a certain woman I intend to contact and if she’ll forgive my stupid, selfish, uncaring ways and give me another chance, I’ll be the happiest man in the world.”
“You?” she gasped. “Are in love?” He nodded, and she was sure she spotted a blush beneath his bush of hair. “That’s wonderful!” She let out a peal of laughter and gave him a quick hug. “I’m so happy for you. I had no idea.”
He looked a bit sheepish. “Nor did I, to tell you the truth. But watching you made me do a lot of thinking. I left her without much explanation, and a lot of things unsaid. I don’t plan on making the same mistake twice.”
“I can’t even picture you being selfish or uncaring, or anything but noble.” Unlike some men.
“Love makes people do crazy things. Remember that. I wouldn’t be surprised if your husband felt the same way.”
The smile faded away. “Time will tell, Cyrus. Time will tell.” Sooner than he thought.
****
He wasn’t coming. It was eleven fifty-two and she sat alone, fully dressed on a high-backed chair in the corner of her room, staring at the cream-swirled wallpaper in front of her. All the promises, hopes, and dreams, ticking away. Why couldn’t he have left her alone? Why did he have to make her care so much that losing him a second time would prove almost unbearable?
Emily rested her head against the wall, wishing she could still her weary mind from the constant torment of loss and betrayal. She closed her eyes and tried to ignore the ache in her back. After two hours in a wooden chair without a cushion, she longed for the softness of her bed. Eight more minutes. She would wait right here with every stitch of clothing on. Far from the bed. She must keep her wits about her so she could deal with his soft voice and searching eyes. Seductive charm. That’s what he had and more than his fair share of it too.
Something brushed her forehead, soft and gentle as a summer’s breeze. Emily murmured in half sleep, her head falling to the side. Another feather light touch on the neck. She lifted her hand in silent protest and her fingers grazed something hard and scratchy. Her eyes flew open. Noah leaned over her, inches away, his stubbled chin stroked by her fingers.
She snatched her hand away and buried it in the fold of her gown.
“Why aren’t you in bed?” he asked, his dark eyes as soft as warm honey. Her stomach jumped at the tenderness in his voice. He was doing it to her again. With no more than a few soft spoken words, he’d blurred her judgment like rain drops on a window pane.
“I was waiting for you.” She kept her voice even. Her gaze flitted across his face and she noted the weary lines of fatigue etched around his mouth and eyes. He looked older, tired, less self-assured. Something was wrong.
“You should be resting.” His gaze darted to her stomach, settled there a few seconds, and then moved to her face. Almost as if he knew there was indeed a very real reason for her to be resting at such an hour.
Emily blinked that thought away. No sense in looking for complications, not yet, anyway. The sad, uneasy look in his eyes sent a shiver of foreboding up her spine. “You’re not going to tell me what this is all about, are you?” She folded her hands in her lap, squeezing them so hard her knuckles turned white.
“I need a little more time.”
Six words, that’s all it took to crush her hopes for a life with him. Six small words. One sentence. Her future with Noah Sandleton inked out before it started. “Then, there’s really nothing left to say.”
“I know what I told you, Emily. I thought I’d have everything under control by now, but I need a little more time.”
She shrugged and tried to sound flippant. “Take all the time you need, Noah. Take a week, a month, a year, if that’s what you need. But don’t expect me to wait for you or welcome you back as my husband.”
He cursed. “Can’t you be reasonable? Can’t you trust me just a little longer?”
“We haven’t trusted each other since we met in The Fox’s Tail.”
“Then isn’t it time to start?” He knelt on one knee and covered her cold hands with his strong, warm ones. “For God’s sake, Emily, don’t do this,” he pleaded.
“Don’t do what, Noah?” she asked, her voice lifeless. “Don’t ask questions?” The right side of his jaw twitched. “Don’t expect answers?” His nostrils flared. “Don’t be difficult?” His eyes narrowed to brown slits. “Don’t intrude on your plans?” His hands tightened on hers.
“Stop it,” he ground out.
“Stop what?” She disengaged her hands from his grasp with quiet firmness. “Stop asking for the truth?”
“Yes, dammit! I mean no. No! Stop behaving like a child and be reasonable.” He massaged the back of his neck. “Give me a little more time.”
Emily folded her arms across her chest. “Sorry. Time’s run out. Where have you been all this time?” She scanned his face. “Why did you leave me on our wedding night?”
He glared at her. “I told you, I’m not at liberty to say at the moment.”
“And I told you, I’m not interested in excuses.”
He stood and paced the room, plowing all ten fingers through his hair. “Damn you, Emily.”
“Damn you, Noah,” she shot back, a spurt of feeling pumping into her cold veins.
He gave her a dark look and a scowl before he rounded on her, stopping less than a foot away. She studied her hands, willing him to go away, but she knew with Noah Sandleton, nothing was that easy.
“You’re too upset to be rational right now. You’re saying things you can’t mean.” He rubbed his jaw and studied her with quiet intent. He reminded her of a commander strategizing before battle, only this skirmish would hold no victory for him, only the bitter emptiness of defeat.
“If you say so.” The man was persistent to the point of being downright exhausting.
“I know so,” he said, enunciating each word with careful eloquence. And then came the dagger, twisting and gouging her heart. “I love you, Emily.”
Those were the words she couldn’t bear to hear. She didn’t believe them, couldn’t believe them and perhaps that was why the pain seeped to her soul. A surge of anger made her want to lash out and make him feel her pain, hurt him as he’d hurt her.
“Words, Noah. Only words,” she murmured, feeling their weight squeezing her chest. What was love without trust?
“Believe what you will. One day, you’ll know the truth.” Emily kept her head bent, refusing to look at him. “I’ll be back tomorrow night and then we’ll talk.”
Her head shot up and their gazes clashed. “Leave tonight and you’ll be spared. Stay and I won’t be responsible for the consequences.”
“You would see me captured and treated like a common criminal?” He advanced a step, daring her to answer. She did not. He threw a hand in the air and said, “Do what you will. I’ll return tomorrow night.” With those last words, he stalked from the room, leaving Emily to stare after him.
When she was certain he was gone, she rose from t
he chair and moved to the bed. She lay on it and turned her face into the counterpane. Only then did she allow the tears to come.
****
Emily tried to hide the puffiness in her eyes the next morning but knew Cyrus noticed their swollen state. Thankfully, he was too much the gentleman to ask pointed questions. Unlike one particular person she knew. Brown eyes and a slow smile danced through her mind. That man was no gentleman. He was a scourge, a scoundrel, a rakehell. Her husband. She sighed. And the cause of so many tears.
“Kleeton should be arriving any moment,” Cyrus said, cutting into her thoughts.
“Good.” She patted a stray lock of hair into place.
“Why is he coming?” Cyrus asked, taking a seat beside her on the sofa.
Emily hesitated. She hated lying to Cyrus but couldn’t very well tell him the truth, so she settled on a half-truth. “It’s nice to have a visitor on occasion. Andrew is aware of our ‘situation’ and it’s not as awkward inviting him to tea as it would be a new neighbor.” She gave Cyrus a wistful smile. “After all, how would I explain your presence?”
Cyrus shrugged his bulky shoulders. “Soon enough, it won’t matter. I’ll be gone and you can invite the whole town if you want.”
“Yes, soon enough it won’t matter,” Emily echoed, her gaze settling on the row of books harboring the panel that opened to the secret passage. She’d wanted to check the passage herself days ago, but hesitated, worried that Noah might be hiding in its dark recesses. Now, she would not be undertaking any grand explorations for the fear of seeing Noah again was too real.
Last night as she lay on her bed, spent and exhausted from tears, Emily knew the pang of hurt and betrayal and vowed she’d never again let Noah close enough to hurt her. But when she woke in the gray dawn, crumpled and mussed, in yesterday’s gown, she remembered the heat in his eyes, heard the pleading in his voice as he begged her for a little more time. I love you, Emily. His words rolled over her like waves beating against rocks, wearing her down, a little at a time.
This morning she didn’t know what she wanted to do. Didn’t know which she’d regret more, leaving Noah, or not leaving him. That’s why she’d sent Andrew the invitation to tea. She needed someone to listen to her dilemma. Cyrus was out of the question for obvious reasons. Augusta was too far away and even if she weren’t, Emily wouldn’t risk creating a rift between her and Ian. Belle was touring the Continent with her aunt. So, there really wasn’t anyone left, save Andrew.