Madness

by Sorcha MacMurrough

  She was relieved that he was free from pain and diverted, at least for the moment. She ventured to ask, “And you spoke several languages?”

  “Yes. We had to in our line of work. Papa traded unabated throughout all the years of the Revolution once we escaped to England. Fabric, wine, but later on mostly fabric. People always need clothes, and an army always needs supplies.”

  “Which brother was eldest?”

  “Georges.”

  A shiver ran through him which was so fierce he nearly fell from the cot, and suddenly began to writhe and vomit.

  She rammed the basin under his head, which he was clutching in agony. But he had said his brother's name and given her enough details about their background to give her something to go on when they began their search.

  Her cousin Randall and the Rakehells knew people who could help investigate, reunite him with his family. Oh, she knew what Antony had told her, but she was sure it simply wasn’t true. This man was not a cold-blooded murderer, a rapist. A killer of children.

  If he had been, the drugs and long imprisonment would have made him more hardened and vicious, of that she was sure. Why, he even blushed when she cleaned up after him after being ill.

  She only wondered how he had managed to maintain his fine sensibilities through all the years of war and depredation. Not to mention incarceration. When was the last time he had been warm? Slept in a decent bed with a feather mattress?

  Gabrielle didn’t realise she had posed the question aloud until he said through gritted teeth, “It’s been years. I can’t recall an open fire here. Just the baths every month, and the whore every three months if I wanted her. I didn’t always, not in that way. It was just a reflex, and, well, contact with another human being was better than nothing. So we slept together. Just slept. And in the winter it was damned welcome warmth. You can see how chilly it is in here all the time, even though we've been having a mild spate of weather for the time of year.

  "I never knew how healing human touch could be until I lost it. Most of the time that one point of contact with a living being gave me the courage to go on. To dream that I might have a normal life some day. But I swear to you, it’s been almost a year, Gabrielle, and they never meant anything in my heart—”

  “Sush. it’s all right," she soothed, stroking down the back of his neck. "I believe you. I would never dream of being jealous of paid professionals, just so sorry for you all. But tell me about before you came here?” she asked gently.

  “Prison," he said through clenched teeth. "But before that I lived in a tavern and brothel. A rough place, spit and sawdust on the floor, a thin cotton mattress. Before that, wherever I was billeted. The staff always got the best quarters there were to be had, but in some of the towns in Spain and Portugal, that really wasn’t saying much."

  His voice was little better than a reedy gasp at times, so that she had to really concentrate to hear what he was saying, but it was better than him screaming in agony. So she let him continue on interrupted.

  "It seems like I was hungry all the time, and have been ever since. I’ve come so close to the edge of starvation. I’ve foraged for the most unspeakable things imaginable. Pity to waste so much food, like the beef tea. I can’t tell you what I would have given for one cup of it when we were in winter quarters freezing.”

  “And Georges and your other brother, were they with you?”

  He nodded. “Georges at first. But it was too dangerous for—”

  She would have asked him more, but his eyes began to roll in his head and just then, she heard a tapping on the other side of the wall, signalling that Clarissa had arrived again.

  She soothed Simon so that he stretched out on the bed more as he clenched his teeth against the pain. “Easy,now. Rest, love. Clarissa is here. I’ll be right back.”

  “Cor, it’s gettin’ colder than a witch’s teat outside. Here, have the broth first. It’s still hot, and the water.” She handed in each item carefully.

  “And this place is already running with damp.”

  "Aye, that it is. I've brought ye both more warm clothes. We've another cold spell outside and the snow looks to be on its way."

  "Thanks, you think of everything. I don't know what I would do without you."

  "No need to fret about that. Glad to help."

  Each of the items got fed through the hole one by one. She gathered in the supplies, and started as Simon said quietly, “If the food is still hot, I’d like to wash up before I eat, if you’ll help me.”

  "Surely. Just give me a moment."

  “Here's more bread and cheese and some apples," Clarissa said, thrusting the last packages through. "How is he?”

  “The vomiting is still pretty bad, but he’s holding up so far.”

  “Good, glad to hear it.”

  “How’s Lucinda?”

  “A bit brighter each time I visit.”

  Gabrielle took the proffered parcel, and patted her friend's hand. “That is good news. Tell her if he and I have any quiet spare moments tomorrow, I’m going to start widening this hole. Can you bring some more tools?”

  “I will. The girls are having no trouble with Spence and his mate, and they've even treated the orderly to keep him away from the door."

  "Thank you. I don't know what to say—"

  Clarissa cleared her throat gruffly, and said, "Listen, I’m going to do my chores her quick-smart, and get back before the hard frost sets in. The weather is brewing up into quite a storm, but I’ll do my best to be back first thing. You take care, and I’ll bring you all sorts of nice presents tomorrow.”

  “Just don’t get into trouble for it, Clarissa.”

  “Never you mind that. We all look after our own.”

  “Thanks again.”

  She stepped over to the bed, and Simon pulled her into his arms for a brief hug, before leaning on her to get up to perform his ablutions.

  When Simon had washed, brushed his teeth, and eaten the hot food, he seemed to be feeling a great deal better, though every so often he got a faraway look in his eyes, and concentrating on chess was far beyond him.

  He did at least start out well, though, so that that anyone could see he had once been an exceptionally talented player.

  But soon he let out several huge yawns, and asked if she minded him having a nap.

  “No, not at all. I’ll lie down with you if you like.”

  “I do like, very much.” He stripped his shirt off, and pulled the fastenings on her gown and the ribbons on her chemise. He feasted on her breasts for a time until sleep claimed him.

  She stroked his face as he lay in peaceful repose, his head cradled against her so intimately she was moved to tears. He looked so harmless and innocent as he slumbered, as though he hadn't a care in the world.

  She has shared so much with him already, that even if she had wished to remain aloof from him, not give her heart to him for feat of getting hurt, how could she not love him?

  Yet this was a different kind of danger than she had ever imagined when they had first met. He had told her he’d never shared his life with a woman. Yet it seemed hard to imagine this paragon of male virtue and desirability didn’t have a wife or fiancee anywhere.

  But surely he would have mentioned it, recalled something of his past domestic life? He had sworn he had never lived with a woman, and had been shy about so many things which suggested he was telling the truth. Then there was his overall character. The little she did know about him had helped her form the opinion that he did not seem the type who would go out of his way to lie in order to seduce. His story had been consistent since they had met, even if there wasn’t a lot he could remember.

  She sighed, knowing she had well and truly leaped before she had ever looked. She had no one to blame except herself if she got hurt emotionally. After all, she was the one who had insisted upon helping him.

  He had begged her to leave for her own sake, fearing himself a threat to her, but not because he was committed elsewhere. It wo
uld be a risk, but one she was prepared to take along with all the others. It would be on her own head if she ended up with a broken heart.

  But she simply had to trust him completely. All of her instincts told her this was true love, and she ought to grab it with both hands, extraordinary though the whole situation might seem to most rational people. But then, love had nothing to do with rationality…

  Simon had done nothing but help her; he had never tried to deceive her. She would just have to be subtle about finding out more about him.

  She pushed her insecurities to one side, determined they would not spoil the joy she was sharing with Simon even in these most grim circumstances.

  All she had to know now was he needed her and seemed to adore her for herself. It was a lovely feeling. One she was never going to give up willingly. For as the passion welled up between them with the least touch or glance, she most certainly needed him too.

  Chapter Sixteen

  When Simon awakened refreshed a couple of hours later, Gabrielle was tempted to ask him for further details about his life. However, she forced herself to refrain. A frown of pain between his rare golden eyes was enough to ready her for another onslaught.

  It came all too soon, and she repeatedly cleaned him with the by now tepid water and tried to give him some of the herbs Eswara Jerome had suggested.

  But he was almost continuously ill for the rest of the morning, until they were both nearly exhausted. Finally she bathed his face with some camphor oil and water, which soothed his aching head and relaxed him.

  “Better now?”

  “Just come here and hold me. I’m so cold,” he said through chattering teeth.

  She drew him into his arms, wrapping herself around him like a blanket.

  From warming him with her body to making love was only a small step. This time she lay flat on top of him, rotating her hips to plunge him deeply into her, until the only sensation for him was pure delight. His trembling turned from chilled to heated, and Simon rasped his need for her more and more urgently until they both spiralled out of control and tipped over the edge.

  “Concentrate on this, this only,” she gasped.

  “It’s the only thing that makes my life bearable. That you don’t find me disgusting. But you’re so young. You don’t know what men can be," he said, cupping her to him fiercely, never ceasing in his movements even though they had both already shared the ultimate bliss.

  “Then tell me. Tell me what this is, what it means.”

  He gazed at her so intently she was sure he was looking right into her soul. “Ever since we met, I can’t go a single moment of the day or night without thinking about you. I get so hard sometimes I just want to wrap myself around your body and thrust into you until you can’t do anything but shout my name and beg me for more.

  "I want your breasts filling my hands, your nipples between my lips, my cock between your thighs as I ride you from one end of the night to the other, sometimes at a canter, other times at a gallop, until we’re both so lathered with sweat and our mingled essence that they couldn’t pull us apart even if they tried.

  “I want to hear you pant with passion, make those wonderful mewling noises when you come. They’re so exciting it’s like putting your hands on my jewels and rubbing. One touch of your hand there and I feel like the base of my skull and top of my head are going to burst. Just the thought of you wrapping your divine ruby red lips around me drives me right to the edge."

  As he continued to move within her, she felt herself being driving right to the edge as well, completely lost in the wondrous madness of their desire.

  “I can barely breathe for wanting you, Gabrielle," he continued, pouring his soul out to her even as he poured all his passion into her. "Yet the fragrance of your wonderful essence is as necessary to me as air.

  “And your taste. Every part of you, from the lovely little crease behind your ears, to the ones at the backs of your knees, is like honey. It’s all more addictive than the opium.

  “As for your tight, glistening rosette of bliss, well, I’ve never seen or felt anything most wondrous in my life. The way you sheathe me like the perfect scabbard. The way you move under me, match your body to mine, it’s pure poetry. Utter perfection. And now we’re both going to explode together again in the most perfect rapture.”

  She was completely mesmerised by his words. “Oh, yes Simon, yes please. More. Harder. Deeper.”

  “Certainement. Plus fort. Plus profound. Ah, Gabrielle. My love.”

  Pinned beneath his driving hips, she urged him on by clutching his muscular buttocks and digging her nails in. Then she felt it, the white hot lightning of sensation liqufying her bones, permeating her feminine centre until she was no more than an urgently needy and even greedy crucible in which he melted and poured his molten essence.

  The inferno of orgasm burnt through her, filling her throat, her belly, scorching up to the top of her head and down to her toes.

  The fire boiled and churned through his loins and veins, igniting every inch of his flesh. His massive head swelled and sent the flames washing through her, and she sobbed helplessly, convinced they would be locked in this maddeningly scorching moment for all eternity.

  The conflagration consumed all before it, leaving nothing in its wake but two spent, quivering bodies, and a kiss of such tenderness that both wept with joy until a blissful somnolence finally claimed them.

  Simon was strangely subdued the next morning, but not nearly as ill.

  After a time she could stand the silence and his seeming avoidance of her gaze no longer, and asked gently, “What is it? Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine. It’s just, well, I was worried I might have hurt you last night. I remember your tears.”

  She immediately threw her arms around his neck to kiss his cheek. “No, it wasn’t because you hurt me. It was from the overwhelming emotion. I never imagined anything like that could exist and well, I know it sounds absurd, but I’m so happy here with you, my love.”

  He gave her a warm smile which lit his face and took her breath away. “I can’t tell you how relieved I am. And I’m sorry if I shocked you. I never imagined I could ever say such things to any woman. Things so, well, heated. But I wanted everything to be honest between us.”

  She beamed at him. “It was all wonderful.”

  “And now I have another confession to make. I can’t stop looking at your breasts and bottom. Thinking of you all damp and moist and ready for me under than skirt.”

  She smiled impishly. “Well, why don’t you see for yourself if I am. And if I’m not ready enough yet, I’m sure there are a couple of things you can do to make me so. So long as you let me do the same for you.”

  “Oh, no really, it’s—”

  She put his hand on her left breast and slid her own nimble fingers down his thigh to leave him in no doubt that she was in earnest. “The love we make, you and I mingled, our love conjoined, it’s beautiful. You’re beautiful, and I’m so glad you’re not ill today.”

  “I feel very light-headed, but I think it’s still a residual aspect of whatever happened between us last night. It was like a volcano erupting, and I just couldn’t stop.”

  “I noticed. I was there with you. It was magnificent.”

  He winked at her. “And something I would like to spend the rest of my life trying to surpass.”

  She laughed in delight. “No complaints from me, except that Clarissa will be here soon. So let me just tiddle you until she arrives.”

  But she was already on her back on the cot before she even knew he had moved.

  “No, definitely not wet enough,” he said, his voice muffled by the skirts over his head.

  “Oh, you must be teasing. I feel like I’m gushing like a geyser.”

  He was already licking and caressing her to madness once more. “Wonderful. I adore nectar and honey for breakfast.”

  “You’re so wicked.”

  “Only with you, pet.”

  She nea
rly fainted as he hauled one foot onto his shoulder and began to massage it with his hand as he devoured the peaks and valleys between her thighs. The other leg followed, opening her up to him completely. Oddly, she felt no shame, no reservations. It was as if they were suspended in one perfect moment in time, and she was willing to make the most of it, for who knew how long it would last.

  He rubbed his way down her ankles and calves to her knees with alternating hands, while all the while tasting teasting and testing with his fingers. He tapped her questing nubbin wth his fingers and then nibbled it with his teeth until she shamlessly rammed her hips upwards and took in all of his tongue.