She felt his tongue brush hers, followed it with her own because it felt exactly right. They breathed the same air, had the same needs, were both alone and confused, and, yes, a little afraid.
Neal ended the kiss before she was ready to let go. His arms slid down to her waist. He held her, but shadows lingered in his eyes. “We will marry tomorrow. If I could, I would wed you this night.”
She wanted to banish her doubts. She tried to keep her voice light as she said, “Why do I sense you are in danger of losing courage, my lord?”
“I’m here, Thea. I’m here for you.” He stepped away, taking her hand and placing a kiss on her fingers.
This wasn’t what Thea wanted to hear. It wasn’t enough. But before she could collect the courage to speak, he turned to Mirabel. “I hope this isn’t upsetting your plans for this evening, my lady?”
Mirabel had been watching them kiss, one hand up to her chest and a look of wonder on her face. “Upsetting? My lord, I am honored to have you marry my wonderful friend here under my roof.”
“I must change,” he said, backing away and holding his hands out to show the damage of hours of riding. Hours he’d probably spent weighing whether or not he would go through with their marriage.
Pride warred with common sense inside Thea. He’d come back.
Yes, she wanted him.
There was a connection between them, and she could not let it go.
But she also wanted something more.
He left the room, taking her silence as assent. Mirabel practically danced up to her. “I’m so excited. Aren’t you excited?”
“I’m confused. He doesn’t seem happy.”
“He seems happy enough,” Mirabel said gaily. She took Thea by the shoulders and pointed her in the direction of the door. “Come, we don’t have long to make you into the prefect bride. Let us go see what is in my closet.” She started forward, but Thea resisted.
“This is too quick, Mirabel.”
Her friend sighed her frustration. “Is this coming from a woman who had the audacity to elope?”
“And suffered a bad marriage for it.”
“Do you believe this will be a bad marriage?”
“No, I love him—” Thea broke off, startled by the words that had just flowed easily from her lips.
She turned, considered her words, her feelings . . .
Love was a complicated thing. And what she felt for Neal was different from what she’d felt for her husband. She’d thought she’d loved Boyd, but it had been a passionate, impulsive thing.
Her passion, her lust for Neal was real, stronger even than what her younger self had felt for her husband. But it also went beyond the physical.
She respected Neal. Admired him. Even thought him the most worthy of gentlemen in her acquaintance, and she realized that, unawares, she’d held him as a standard against whom she’d held up every male she’d known since, including Boyd. Unfortunately time and Boyd’s disappointments and vices had not weathered well during their short marriage. She’d lost her respect for Boyd, and love couldn’t continue or grow without it.
Thea didn’t believe she could ever lose her respect for Neal.
“I love him,” she repeated, sampling the statement in her own mind and discovering it was true. “I. Love. Him.”
Mirabel dropped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Anyone with half a brain could see you did. Especially after last night.”
Heat rushed to Thea’s cheeks. Mirabel laughed and tugged on her arm, but still Thea resisted.
“He doesn’t love me. He won’t,” Thea said. “All because of this curse. He’ll be like he is right now. For the duration of our marriage.”
“As long as he can be as he was in your bedroom last night, you, my dear, will not have any worries.”
“But what if—”
“No, Thea, no more questions. So he sees something you don’t—”
“You don’t find that mad, or at the least odd?”
Mirabel gave her a look as old as time. “Most of us have some madness in us. We believe what we believe.”
“I’m not like that—,” Thea started to protest.
“No, you are just expecting love to betray you. You had a bad marriage to a man who turned out not to be what you thought he was. But at some point, Thea, you must trust someone. And remember, one rarely has the opportunity to follow one’s heart. Follow your heart. Grab on to this with both hands, my friend.”
“My heart betrayed me once before,” Thea said.
“Did it? Or were you just not listening to what it was really saying before you made your choice? You are very headstrong, Thea. Be careful you aren’t being foolishly independent.” Mirabel took a step toward the door. “Furthermore, you have your sons to think of now.”
Her sons. Their lives would be so much better under Lyon’s protection—and Mirabel knew it.
Thea began following Mirabel to the door. “Do you believe I can defeat this curse he believes in?” she asked.
“My dear, I believe love can do anything.”
Chapter Twelve
Love could do anything.
Mirabel’s declaration challenged Thea. It reverberated in her mind as she dressed and prepared to wed Neal.
The ceremony took place in an ancient chapel on the abbey’s estate as close to noon as possible. The Reverend Mr. Wells could not arrive sooner.
Thea had spent the night in her bed alone. She had not known where Neal had been. After insisting that they marry with all haste, he’d disappeared up to his room. Of course, Mirabel had kept Thea so busy with arrangements for the ceremony that she’d not had time to worry and had fallen asleep, exhausted—but at peace with the decision.
The chapel had been rebuilt centuries before with small windows, so that it could be dark and confining, especially on an overcast morning such as this one. Mirabel had seen to it that lit candles lined the stone altar and filled the tables along the walls, so that the room glowed with warm, flickering light.
Theirs was a small gathering. Mirabel and her servants served as witnesses.
Neal looked inordinately handsome in black formal dress.
Thea wore a gown of the finest muslin in a pale shade of yellow that she had borrowed from Mirabel’s closet. Her hair had been fashioned on top of her head instead of her customary knot at the base of her neck. Mirabel had wanted to loan Thea her diamond pins. Thea had politely refused and instead had fashioned a tiara of roses from the bush by the estate’s gardens.
Now, as she stood before Reverend Wells, a rather portly man with tufts of hair over his ears, spectacles on his nose, and a strong sense of how important this particular marriage would be in London, Thea pledged her troth to Neal. She spoke the words of the Book of Common Prayer, repeating after Reverend Wells, but the whole time Neal did not look at her.
His stubbornness angered her. He made his vows but did so with the joy of a man facing the gallows. When Mr. Wells announced they were man and wife and could seal their vows with a kiss, Neal barely let his lips touch hers.
And then they were in the dining room, just the reverend, Mirabel, and themselves for the wedding meal.
Neal seemed to relax. He was charming, thoughtful, entertaining, but distant to Thea.
At last she could take his bewildering behavior no longer.
“Reverend Wells, does the church still perform exorcisms?” she asked.
Now she had Lyon’s attention.
The good reverend apparently dearly adored having his opinion requested on ecclesiastical matters. He pushed up his spectacles in a scholarly fashion and launched into his esteemed opinion. “The church has a rite, but it is not called upon often. I have not been a party to any, and I daresay the bishop hasn’t either, although the devil is amongst us.”
For a second, the air in the room seemed to shift as if clouds had covered the sun, blocking its rays from the window before drifting away . . . except this day was not a sunny day.
Or was s
he being unusually fanciful? “How would one remove the devil?” Thea pressed on.
“Is this really a good conversation for a wedding feast?” Lyon said quietly.
“Of course it is, my lord,” Thea answered. Superstition aside, she had his attention now, and she was going to keep it. “Please, Reverend, continue.”
The clergyman removed his glasses and rubbed his nose before saying, “Historically church leaders have wanted us to believe the devil is a supernatural being. Something separate and apart from us. However, I hold to the more modern understanding that the devil is really the evil inside all of us. We make our own ‘devil.’ Take Bonaparte. He has been the mastermind behind a monstrous evil that has toppled governments and cost countless lives. Does that make him a devil? Only God knows. But in my humble opinion, I believe him to be one.”
Thea was not interested in Napoleon. “What of curses, Mr. Wells. Can the church remove curses?”
His response was to burst out in laughter. “Curses? Why would we remove curses? The idea of a curse is an antiquated notion. It is the device of the uneducated mind. We now know someone can’t put an evil eye out on another person with just a few words of mumbo jumbo. So there is no need of the church to provide protection. Tell me, are you afraid of curses, Lady Lyon?”
Thea shrugged. “I am merely curious.” Mirabel had a very pained expression on her face. She was not pleased with Thea’s line of questions. Thea dared not look to Neal, but she hoped she had made her point.
Mirabel cleared her throat and changed the topic. “Would you like more port, Reverend?”
“Oh, no, I must be on my way. Thank you for your hospitality, Lady Palmer.” He rose from the table, Neal rising with him. “And my heartiest congratulations to both you and your lady, Lord Lyon. It has been an honor.”
“Thank you,” Neal said. “Let me see you to the door.”
The second the men left the room, Mirabel waved the servants from the room before leaning across the table. “Are you mad?” she demanded of Thea.
“No, determined.”
“This is your wedding night, and if you want to spend it battling your husband, you are a fool.”
“I’m making a point.”
“A point that will make your husband look like a fool! Oh, that is so much better.”
“Mirabel—,” Thea started, ready to explain herself, but then Neal appeared at the doorway.
He did not look pleased.
“—that was a delicious meal,” Thea heard herself finish lamely. “The quail was quite succulent.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” Mirabel responded, her jaw tight. She was truly displeased with Thea. She rose. “I believe the time has come for me to excuse myself. Many happinesses to you both.” She started for the door but paused in front of Neal. “And, Lyon, please be good to my friend. She’s headstrong and foolish but a wonderful woman. She’ll make you a good wife once you find your way past all the armor she wears to protect her emotions.”
Mirabel directed that last comment to Thea, and with those words, she left the room.
Thea didn’t think she’d ever been so insulted. She sat, her gaze in front of her, waiting for Lyon to chime in with his unhappiness with her as well.
He walked into the room, his footsteps barely a sound on the carpet, but she could feel him draw close.
Lyon took the chair next to hers, turning it out so that he could sit seeing her face. He didn’t speak. Not immediately.
Osgood came by the door to check on the room, saw them, and beat a hasty retreat. Neither Thea nor Lyon moved.
She was determined to let him be the first to speak. Perhaps bringing up exorcisms and curses at the table had not been wifely, but Neal needed to hear someone else’s opinion besides her own.
The minutes stretched long between them, and then, finally, she could take it no longer.
“You are too intelligent to let your life be ruled by superstition,” she announced.
He regarded her with a solemn face. Even angry with him, she couldn’t help but marvel at how handsome he was. He had a sensual mouth, a lean, strong jaw. They were so close that she could see the line of his whiskers and smell the scent of sandalwood off his skin.
“I shouldn’t have broached the topic,” Thea said.
He shook his head, gave a small shrug.
“I was worried when you were gone all day.”
“I had to think.”
Here was the conversation she wanted, and yet she was afraid of it as well. “What did you decide? That you must marry me?” She heard bitterness in her voice.
He reached out and ran his fingers along the length of her arm. Where he touched, her skin tightened with expectation. “I thought that you may be right. Perhaps I shouldn’t live my life afraid of a curse.” He raised his gaze to meet hers.
Her heart leaped at his words. “I wasn’t mocking you with my questions of Reverend Wells,” she said. “I would never do that, Neal.” I love you.
“Don’t care deeply for me, Thea,” he said, as if she’d spoken aloud. “Protect yourself.”
“Does that mean you will walk out on me again?” she asked, a knot forming in her throat. “Or is this curse—?”
She stopped, struck by a sudden realization. “Wait,” she said before adding thoughtfully, “the curse no longer matters. Not to me.” She met his eye, her mind so clear that it startled her. “All I want to do is love you.”
There, she’d said it.
A second ago, such a declaration had been impossible to make, and yet here she’d spoken straight from her heart. No armor; just love.
Her words hovered in the air between them. She could picture them, bright and shining and true. A joy, a freedom she’d not known existed, filled her.
“I love you,” she repeated. “I think I’ve always loved you, even when I didn’t realize I loved you. You caution me against feeling deeply for you, but it is too late, Neal. I believe you are the finest man of my acquaintance. While others are wrapped in their petty concerns of status and self-importance, you have tried to do what is right.”
“I’m as petty as the next man.”
She shook her head, almost overcome with this insight, this depth, this honesty of her feelings. “No, you truly are special, and if it is a curse that has caused you to think of your legacy, well, so be it. All I want to do is love you. I want a life with you and with my sons. I am all for building a fortress around us to keep away evil spirits and witches and trolls, whatever threatens us. But the one thing I don’t want to avoid is love. I tried that, Neal. For the last five years of my life, I’ve run from love, but not any longer. I love you.”
“Thea—,” he started as if to defend himself once again, but she stopped his words by placing her fingers over his lips.
“It’s too late for me to protect myself. Can’t you hear the conviction in my voice? I love you, Neal, in a way I could never feel for any other. And it is all right if you wish to pretend you cannot love, but I know differently. No matter how hard you try to put distance between us, I will always be here for you, Neal. I will not turn away and I will not run. I don’t believe in your curse, but I do believe in you. Whatever happens, whatever may come our way, I shall not leave your side.”
“You do not know what you say, Thea.”
“I know exactly what I’m saying, and I speak without fear and without doubt. You can’t protect me from love, Neal, because I already love you. I started loving you all those summers ago. But now we are older. Wiser. And I still love you with that pure innocence and trust I gave you years ago. I didn’t even see it back then, but this afternoon, in this moment, I realized how much you mean to me—and this time, you’d best never leave me. Do you understand, Neal? I go where you go.”
“I don’t deserve you, Thea. In time, you may come to hate this marriage.”
“No, I won’t ever. And don’t fear making me a widow again, Neal. One thing I’ve learned is that we have only the here and now. It i
s all that matters. The rest is speculation and doubt and fear. But this day, this minute is real.”
She then took his face in both hands and kissed him with all the generosity in her spirit.
Like flame to kindling, he responded, his arms coming around her. What was between them was more than mere sex, and it had been from those days long ago.
He needed her.
She needed him.
Neal suddenly swept her up in his arms. He carried her out the door, up the stairs, and across the threshold of his bedroom.
There, in the privacy of his chambers, they began undressing each other.
The night before, they had been so eager that there had been no time for exploration. Neal made up for it now. He kissed her neck, her shoulder, her collarbone—all the while unlacing her dress and pulling it down over her shoulders.
Roses falling from her hair, Thea tilted her head back with a soft, happy sigh.
She tugged at the waist of his breeches, pulling his shirt out and then sliding her hands under his jacket. She adored the feel of his body. He was all hard planes and muscle. Her fingers danced along his rib cage before she slid his jacket off, letting it fall to the floor. She kissed his neck, nuzzling him and delighting in the texture of his skin and the scrappiness of his whiskers. She tickled him with the tip of her tongue and he laughed, the sound startling her enough to pull back.
“What is it?” he said.
He was so handsome in the evening light. So strong and masculine. “The last time I heard you laugh was years ago.”
“I want to change that, Thea. Riding yesterday, I realized I’ve given up too much of life.”
His confession was music to her ears. “And you came back for me.”
Neal nodded. “I couldn’t stay away from you. Perhaps I should never have left you.”
“We were both too young.”
“Your feelings back then weren’t as strong as mine.”
His tone was light, but his claim gave her pause. His feelings had been deeper than hers. “Does the past matter, if it leads us to right here?”
His answer was to kiss her. He was already aroused.
So was she.
Cathy Maxwell Page 16