by Sandra Heath
William was now thoroughly embarrassed. “You’ve said far too much already, Sophie.”
Dominic opened the door. “You’re wrong about one thing, Sophie.”
“I am?”
“Yes. I no longer see you as a foolish child.”
“I grew up tonight, milord.”
“Perhaps you did. Good night.”
“Good night.”
He crossed the entrance hall toward the dining room, where he lit a candle to take through into the conservatory. Sleep wouldn’t come tonight, and he intended to pass the time at the billiard table.
Soon the lamps cast their glow over the green baize, and the ivory balls clinked together as he gathered them. Then he heard a sound outside. He glanced out, but could only see his own reflection surrounded by the thick tropical foliage. Then he heard the sound again. It was the slow clip-clop of hooves on the stone-flagged terrace. Beyond his reflection, he saw the ghostly shape of a horse. It was the roan stallion.
Slowly he opened the French windows and went out into the night. The horse was quiet now the storm was over, and it didn’t sheer away as he approached. He caught the bridle and ran his hand down the animal’s neck. “Steady now, boy,” he murmured, bending to check it hadn’t come to any obvious harm.
As he straightened he sensed someone was watching him. His gaze was drawn to an upstairs window. Camilla was silhouetted by candlelight. She looked down at him for a long moment then drew the curtains, shutting him out.
He continued to look up at the window, but then the night breeze carried a sweet sound. It was the music of the wind chimes.
Chapter 21
The house felt claustrophobic to Camilla when she awoke early the next morning. Still wounded by the previous night’s shattering revelations, she didn’t want to face anyone. She needed to escape into the fresh air for a while, and because it was a sunny spring day decided to go out for a walk. She put on a long-sleeved cream woolen gown and brushed her hair loose, then, with a warm cashmere shawl over her shoulders, she slipped quietly down through the house.
She hurried through the dining room to the conservatory, and there halted in dismay, for Dominic had fallen asleep in one of the chairs. The lamps were still lit above the billiard table, where his cue lay on the green baize. His hair was disheveled and he’d discarded his coat. His neckcloth was undone, as were the top buttons of his shirt, and she could see the dark hairs on his chest. He was deeply asleep, and knew nothing as she stood looking down at him.
Anger and resentment rose through her again when she thought of the two long years he’d denied her the truth about Harry. What a simpleton she’d been. His silence struck at the heart of her dignity and pride, and she would never forgive him. She almost wished she hadn’t heard his scathing exchanges with Elizabeth the night before, for now she was even being denied her memories. She, poor fool, suspected nothing while her husband betrayed her with her best friend. Dominic could have spared her this delayed humiliation, but he said nothing.
She’d always been ashamed of having been attracted to him, now that shame was ten times worse. If her perfidious senses ever played Judas to her conscience again, she knew she’d despise herself forever. She’d been at the mercy of others for too long, and from now on intended to be entirely her own woman. Harry no longer had any claim on her loyalty or even her love, and two years of resounding silence had put Dominic beyond the pale forever.
Drawing her shawl more closely around her shoulders, she moved silently past him to the French doors on to the terrace. She opened them softly and slipped out into the warm morning sunshine.
She found herself following the path she and Dominic had taken on the night William broke his ankle. Daffodils bobbed by her feet, and the soft April breeze rustled through the blossoms of the ornamental almond trees at the edge of the Chinese garden. She could hear the stream cascading down the hillside, but above all she could hear the wind chimes on the pagoda.
Pausing, she gazed up at the scarlet-and-gold tower, with its soaring pinnacle and elegant upturned roofs. It drew her like a magnet, and she began to walk toward it almost before she realized what was happening. This time she felt nothing as she passed the place where they’d picnicked, no prick of conscience that she and Dominic had slipped away and left Harry sleeping. How many times had Harry slipped away and left the wife whose unawareness was in itself a form of sleeping?
She walked on, making her way up the steep path toward the entrance of the pagoda. In spite of the dangerous state of the staircase inside, she knew she intended to climb to the very top. She didn’t know why exactly, it was just something she felt compelled to do.
The pieces of broken banister still lay where they’d fallen at the time of William’s accident, and the finer fragments cracked beneath her feet as she walked to the staircase. The wind chimes rang musically through the tower, their sound muffled now she was inside.
It was a strangely seductive sound, luring her on toward the top of the building. She gathered her skirts and began to ascend the steps, pressing back against the wall as she reached the place where the rail had given way. A draft breathed coolly through the pagoda, and she shivered before continuing to climb.
At last she emerged on the topmost balcony, where the song of the chimes was all around her. It seemed to shimmer in the air, as if reflecting from the gilding on the chimes themselves, and it was a sound that drove her fierce new resolution to the four winds. Here, where she’d so nearly given her all to Dominic, it was impossible to deny the guilty past. Fresh tears stung her eyes as she gazed over the oriental beauty of the garden toward the stream as it tumbled down toward the valley floor.
She’d been there for several minutes before Dominic suddenly spoke to her from the top of the staircase.
“Why have you come here, Camilla?”
She whirled about with a startled gasp. He wore his coat now, but his neckcloth and shirt were still undone. He must have awoken in time to see her leave the conservatory. Too late she wished she’d glanced behind and seen him following.
He held her gaze. “Why here, Camilla?” he asked again.
“I have nothing to say to you,” she whispered.
“No? I beg to disagree.” He took a step toward her.
She backed instinctively away until she was pressed against the curving ornamental side of the balcony. “I don’t want to speak to you, Dominic. Please leave me alone.”
“I can’t do that, Camilla. We have to settle this thing once and for all. I know you blame me for—”
“Of course I blame you!” she cried. “You left me in ignorance by allowing me to defend my mockery of a marriage! Have you any idea how I feel now, knowing Elizabeth was Harry’s mistress?”
“I wanted to spare you, Camilla.”
“Spare me? How can you possibly imagine I feel spared?” There was a catch in her voice as she struggled not to give in to the shuddering sobs rising in her throat.
“Then consider how you would have felt if I’d told you at the time of Harry’s death! You’d have accused me of lying in order to win you for myself, just as you’ve always suspected I engineered that damned horse into Harry’s hands. You still fear that I hoped the brute would be the death of him, so I could have you, don’t you? Well? Don’t you?”
She couldn’t reply.
“Well, you’ve always been wrong on both counts. I’ve always told the truth about that horse, and I’ve never misled you for my own gain.”
He came nearer. “Your damned conscience has dictated everything for too long. You’ve been its slave ever since you kissed me right here where we’re standing now, and you’ve succeeded in making me a slave to it as well! You’re always so busy thinking of yourself you’ve never bothered to consider how I might have felt.”
“You? No one betrayed you, Dominic, no one lied to you or made a fool of you!”
“All I did was protect you from hurt for as long as I could. I wanted to spare you the pain you feel now,
but last night you finally heard it all. Now at last you know what a cheating blackguard Harry Summerton really was.”
“And are you so morally perfect?” she whispered, her voice almost hidden by the melody of the chimes.
“Morally perfect?” He gave a bark of incredulous laughter. “I promise you there’s nothing moral about the way I’m feeling right now, madam, in fact I feel very immoral indeed! My time has come, I fancy, for the scales have fallen from your eyes and you don’t need shielding anymore. I’ll begin by telling you exactly what happened when Harry died.”
“I already know enough!”
“No, you don’t, you don’t know the half of it.” He stood within inches of her, his eyes blazing with anger as he related his final conversation with Harry. He repeated it word-for-word, leaving nothing out, not even Harry’s despicable offer to turn a blind eye if she were to be seduced.
Tears shone on her lashes and she blinked them furiously away. “You didn’t have to tell me that,” she whispered.
“Oh, yes, I do, Camilla, for it’s the only way to make you understand. You’ve always blamed me for Harry’s death, but you did so because of your own guilty conscience. You’ve never been able to forgive yourself—or me—because you once seriously considered committing adultery with me!”
“How dare you—?”
“Don’t pretend to be outraged, Camilla, for it won’t wash anymore. Making love was in your mind when you came up here with me on the day of the picnic, and if Harry hadn’t called you when he did, it’s what you and I would have done!”
“No!” She wouldn’t admit it to him, she wouldn’t.
“Damn you for your conscience, Camilla.”
“And damn you for leaving me in ignorance all this time!”
He studied her in silence for a long moment. “I did what I thought was the right and honorable thing. You’d made your choice, you wanted Harry not me, and I respected that decision by doing all I could to make Harry worthy of your love. But it seems that in so doing I made myself unworthy. Well, I’m tired of being unworthy, Camilla, and I don’t intend to put up with it any longer.”
Was there an implied threat? “What do you mean?” she asked uneasily.
“I mean that the time has come for actions instead of words. Sweet reason doesn’t seem to impress you, so maybe brute force will.”
Her breath caught and she glanced past him toward the staircase. Could she escape?
He smiled. “Don’t even contemplate it, Camilla, for it will do no good. You’ve been wronging me for far too long, and retribution is overdue.” Suddenly he caught her wrist and forced her so close that their bodies touched, then he smiled down into her eyes.
“What price your conscience now, Camilla? I warned you that if we met here a third time, I’d complete that which was begun before. This is nemesis, but it’s up to you whether it is to be fulfillment, or a bitter struggle to the end. I am about to have you, madam, whatever your decision.”
Alarm lunged through her and she tried to wrench free. “Let me go!” she cried.
“Give in gracefully, Camilla, for that is what your body wishes to do. You want me, and by God I want you!”
“Let me go!” she cried again.
“Not until I’ve finished,” he breathed, swinging her roughly around until she was pressed against the inner wall of the balcony. Then he took her chin between his fingers to raise her mouth to his. It was a kiss that allowed no quarter, nothing but complete subjection would do. His parted lips closed fiercely over hers.
She tried to struggle, but he was too strong for her. The kiss was relentless in its ferocity and skill. His lips and tongue teased her senses as his fingers curled voluptuously in her hair, and she felt his virility forcing against her like a steel bar. She didn’t want to respond, but excitement began to pound needfully through her. Her breasts tightened with irresistible desire as she felt all control slipping away. She was hungry for this man’s love, and had waited for what seemed a lifetime to gratify that craving.
He gave a low laugh, a mixture of gladness and triumph as he sensed her capitulation. “My sweet, sweet Camilla ...” he breathed, before kissing her again.
Her lips weakened against his, and she ceased to struggle. Her arms moved richly around him as she returned the kiss. She drew his tongue deep into her mouth. There was no pretense now, no nod in the direction of false conscience, just the exhilarating knowledge that in a few moments his body would invade hers. Fulfillment. She chose fulfillment.
The ribbon ties at the front of her bodice offered no resistance as he undid them, and she quivered with delight as he cupped her pink-tipped breast in his palm and rolled her nipple between his fingertips.
Kiss followed kiss, and their passion became almost frenzied as pent-up emotions and cravings were released at last. His arousal throbbed against her now, and her fingers shook as she slid her hand down to enclose it through the silk of his trousers. His breath caught with pleasure as she caressed the iron-hard shaft that beat just for her.
He bent his head to draw her flushed nipple into his mouth, and she gasped as he slid his tongue against it, then he found her mouth again, bruising her lips with the force of his desire. Slowly he pulled her gown up in order to slide his hand against the warmth of her naked thigh.
She was ready to receive him now, ready to savor the penetration she’d refused to admit wanting. Their lips still seared together as he undid his trousers buttons to free the pounding manhood springing from his loins.
Only then did he tear his lips from hers to gaze into her eyes. “You’re mine, Camilla, and you always have been. Deny it now if you can.” He spoke softly as he lifted her gently from her feet to gain final entry.
She clung to him, wrapping her legs around his hips as at last he pushed slowly into her. She gave a cry of ecstasy before his lips devoured her again. She was impaled upon him. A glory of voluptuous emotion seized her in wave after wave of erotic joy, and she felt as if the blood was turning to fire in her veins as he began to thrust.
Tears stung her eyes and consciousness itself threatened to desert her as their passion dissolved into paroxysms of shuddering elation. They became one, their hearts beating in union as the pulsing excitement transported them. They were weightless, floating on a sea of exquisite joy.
The ecstasy was slow to fade, leaving them warm and sated, and when he spoke several minutes later, he was still deep inside her. “All this pleasure and love could have been ours a long time ago.”
“I know. Forgive me, forgive me...” Tears stung her eyes as she covered his face with kisses.
“Love always forgives.”
“I’m so ashamed. I punished you for everything.”
“We punished each other, fools that we are,” he murmured, putting his lips to the pulse at her throat.
She arched toward him, anxious to prolong the final moments of union. Her whole body ached with love for him, and she was crying softly as their lips met again before he lowered her gently to her feet.
They were two once more, but stood locked in a long embrace. At last they drew properly apart, and he tenderly retied the ribbons on her bodice before putting his hand to her chin and tilting her face toward him. “I love you, Camilla, I’ve always loved you, and I always will.”
“And I’ve always loved you,” she confessed. “Deep inside I knew it before I married Harry, and now I wish I’d had the courage to admit it before it was too late.”
“For me it really began that day in Hyde Park.”
She nodded. “I—I didn’t know what to do, except try not to be alone with you again. I’d promised my hand to Harry, you see, and a promise such as that should be ...”
“Sacrosanct?”
“Yes.”
“They should also be made from the heart, Camilla, and your heart wasn’t really in it when you made your marriage vows. Oh, you loved Harry, but it wasn’t with the depth and ferocity of the feelings you had for me. I know how you felt, bec
ause I felt the same. We were made for each other, and if we’ve been kept apart until now, by God I mean to make up for it from this moment on.”
She blinked back more tears. “So much wasted time,” she whispered, her voice mingling with the music of the chimes as the breeze played around the pagoda.
“Time means everything, and not just to us,” he said.
She looked at him. “Sophie and William?”
“Yes. I, er, took a small liberty last night. I told them I was sure you’d permit William to stay here, provided he promised to behave with absolute discretion. Was I right to think you’d agree?”
“Of course. They’re very much in love and know they must soon part forever.”
“Gather ye rosebuds while ye may,” he murmured.
She smiled and murmured the whole quotation. “Gather ye rosebuds while ye may, Old Time is still a-flying: And this same flower that smiles to-day, Tomorrow will be dying.”
Chapter 22
Over the following days Sophie and William stole every moment they could to be together before being parted forever. Camilla felt desperately sorry for them, especially now that she was so very happy herself. After her passionate surrender in the pagoda, she gladly gave herself to Dominic every night, and quite often during the day as well.
They were discreet, of course, but when they were alone, they gave their newly acknowledged passion its long-overdue liberty. The past was erased more and more with each night they spent in each other’s arms, and the anguish she felt on learning about Harry and Elizabeth was soon an almost forgotten pain.
Harry’s infidelity served as a balm to her conscience, erasing the guilt that had tormented her for so long. It also clarified something she hardly realized had begun to cast a shadow over her existence, and that was her increasingly equivocal feelings toward Summerton Park itself.
The house she once loved so much was suddenly no longer a home. It was Harry’s home, for centuries the country seat of his family, and now it was alien to her. She could no longer bring herself to sleep in the bed she’d shared with him, but went to Dominic’s room at night, and when she looked at the priceless collection of chinoiserie, she felt only indifference.