Scars Upon Her Heart (The Scars of The Heart Series)

by Sorcha MacMurrough

  “I want you to love me, as your woman, for this night,” she whispered softly, continuing to stroke up and down one side of him, from chest to knee.

  His hands stilled on her body, and he tried to sit up. “Vevina, you don’t know what you are saying.”

  “I do,” she pleaded softly, and in spite of his best resolve, Stewart turned to look back at her reclining on the pillow.

  He saw the soft light shining in her eyes, made more brilliant by the dark dye on her face, and knew if he didn’t leave he would be lost.

  “I can’t, Vevina, it isn’t right. You're a highborn lady, and the wife of another, and I'll wager all I own that you are a virgin. I can’t do as you ask.”

  “Major, Stewart, please, we very nearly loved each other this afternoon. Is it wrong of me to mention it? Should I just let it happen, in the middle of the night, secretly, furtively, then have you feel guilty in the morning that you supposedly took advantage of me?” Vevina argued boldly.

  “Or should I be open and honest, tell you the truth, that I want you. I want to know before I die what it is like to be in the arms of my lover.”

  “Any man could teach you that better that I,” Stewart said cynically.

  “No, not any man! I want you! We've been companions, friends, comrades in every respect, and the desire that flares up between us threatens to consume all reason and discretion, as it did today. Please, Stewart, I need you. Don’t fail me now, when I may never see you again.”

  Vevina’s last words, and the tears which sprang to her eyes, were all the prompts Stewart needed.

  “I may be damned for it tomorrow, you may hate me forever, but by God, I do need you,” he rasped, before his hand came down on her breast, and his lips covered hers in a kiss that sent her mind reeling.

  Soon, Vevina did not know how, they were both gloriously naked, and Stewart began an organized campaign up her body with the precision of a general. He toyed with her sensitive breasts, and pressed hot feverish kisses downwards to her thighs, causing her to writhe in pleasure and embarrassment.

  “Stewart, really, you shouldn’t,” she whispered.

  He chuckled softly. “Yes, I should. I want to memorize, taste every inch of you. And I want you to be ready for me when I join with you.”

  Vevina shuddered with pleasure, and felt the hot wetness between her thighs grow as he nibbled kisses all over her stomach and the soft flesh of her leg, before his mouth fastened over that most intimate part of her.

  He soothed her with one hand on her breast as she arched up against him, and his other hand came up to insert a finger into her deeply, exploring the soft feminine core of her with complete fascination.

  “Stewart,” she gasped, suddenly afraid of her own body, which seemed completely out of control.

  He lifted his head, and said, “I don’t want to hurt you, but it's your first time, and I'm afraid it can't be avoided. Do you want me to stop?”

  “My moan had nought to do with pain,” she murmured sensually, a smile curving her beautiful lips. “I’ll die if you stop now.”

  Stewart looked up at her flushed face in wonder, proud of her obvious desire for him, and he kissed his way back up to her breasts. He reached across the small confines of the tent, and pulled the candle across the table to the corner nearest them.

  “I want to see you,” he breathed, as he teased a nipple with his teeth gently.

  She moaned and licked her lips.

  “I want to see your face, know that you are with me, know that you’re mine, body and soul and mind. Open yourself completely to me, open your eyes, so I can see all of you, nothing concealed,” he insisted softly.

  Vevina could only obey.

  The desire and, dare she think it, love she saw in his eyes made her fear she would disappoint him, so she pleaded, “Stewart, I need to know how to please you too.”

  “That my dear, is impossible at the minute. I have no control, and I'm going need it if I'm to please you.”

  “You do please me, always,” Vevina sighed, rubbing herself against him provocatively, feeling the warmth of his probing manhood press between them.

  Stewart kissed her thoroughly, his hand stroking back her hair, feathering it out on the pillow in a silken cascade.

  “You’re not ready yet,” he breathed, as he pinned her back down on the mattress and began his bold caresses all over again. Only this time, he watched her face in the candle light, and the only intelligible words he uttered occasionally as he nibbled and teased, and murmured sweet nothings were, “Open your eyes, Vevina, look at me.”

  Vevina kept them open as much as she could, but the delights made her heavy-lidded with passion, and what she saw only increased her desire, until she felt as though she would explode.

  He was magnificent, from his broad shoulders to his slender hips, and she had to admit a pang of fear at the size of him. She was sure it would be impossible, she was so small, and she was terrified that she might disappoint him.

  But Stewart was gently insistent in his demands upon her body, and soon he was sure she was more than ready. Every touch of his brought a gasp or sigh of desire.

  Vevina opened her legs and arched her hips so provocatively, he thought he would die if he didn’t possess her completely.

  “Vevina, my love, there’s still time to change your mind,” he said softly, pulling away slightly, so that she reached out to cling to him fiercely. “I haven’t damaged you in any way, but if I move into you now, there’s no going back.”

  “I want you Stewart, I need you. Please love me,” she cried, tears of fear and desire running down her cheeks.

  “I do, my love, I do, though I be damned for it, I love you,” he gasped in triumph, as he moved into position between her thighs.

  For an eternity he seemed poised above her, and she forced herself to relax. Then agonisingly, he slid in, filling her with a fullness which was painful, but thrilling. He seemed to go on forever, pressing deeper and deeper, until he paused, and Vevina heard him say, “Look at me.”

  Vevina’s glowing eyes looked into Stewart’s. She was certain she had said the words, “I love you,” aloud, so overwhelmed was she by the joining they shared.

  “Are you all right?’ he whispered, planting kisses across her face in a frenzy of possessive pride.

  “Oh, Stewart, it’s incredible. I had no idea of the power, the joy,” she breathed.

  She pressed up against his hard body, seeking an even closer contact, wanting every part of her body to touch his.

  Stewart’s control shattered as he allowed himself to move inside her.

  “Dear God, Vevina!” he gasped, as they both rocketed out of control.

  Vevina clung to him, tears of happiness streaming down her face as she cried out, a sound of raw pleasure ripping from her throat as they knew the ultimate fulfilment.

  Much, much later, Stewart raised his head from her shoulder to look at her, wonder and amusement on his face.

  “Did I hurt you?”

  “Not at all. It was, it was wonderful, my dearest,” she laughed, as he kissed the tears from her cheeks.

  “You're wonderful,” he said with a smile, kissing her until she was nearly breathless with desire again. “Oh Vevina, any man would be proud to have you, but you chose me. I can’t believe my luck.”

  She smiled back at him joyfully. “Luck has nothing to do with it. I want you, I have always wanted you, from the moment I met you and realized you had saved me from Hawkes.”

  “Do you believe in Fate?” Stewart asked quietly.

  She cupped his cheek. “I never used to, but I do after that day. What would have happened to both myself and Wilfred if you hadn’t come along,” she sighed, kissing him full on the mouth, letting her tongue caress his.

  “That’s not to say I am only grateful, though you know I am. It’s like the fulfilment of a long cherished dream, like meeting the other part of yourself,” Vevina tried to explain a moment later, when she had lifted her lips.
<
br />   A shadow briefly passed over Stewart’s features, and she could see he was thinking of his former love. Vevina was saddened, and wondered how she could ever compete with this ghost from the past which haunted him.

  “I know I’m not the woman you once loved, but I’m here now, and I’m real, not make believe,” Vevina pleaded almost desperately, as she made love to him with her hands and mouth in an effort to eradicate the other woman’s memory.

  The shadow finally passed from Stewart’s mood. “Fate, whatever, brought us together, and I'm going to make the most of it while there's still time,” he panted as he managed to push her over onto her back, and he made love to her all over again.

  Later still, Vevina felt a quivering wreck inside, so much joy had Stewart given her, but she was fascinated by the man laying next to her, and longed to satisfy her maidenly curiosity. She ran her hands up and down him boldly, kneading, exploring.

  Stewart ground out, “Vevina, I don’t wish to be unkind, but if you keep doing that, you will have to suffer the consequences.”

  “I’m more than willing,” she laughed, as she wiggled her hips and mounted him. He tried to grab her and turn her under him, but she pulled both of his wrists firmly over his head, and her breasts came up to his mouth as she moved back and forth.

  “Now who’s suffering the consequences,” she gasped, as she moved her hips rhythmically.

  Stewart bucked so hard underneath her, she thought he would send them flying off the bed.

  A budding sensation of desire filled her, and they came together in a shuddering climax that left them both weak and stunned.

  “Stewart, did I hurt you?” she asked fearfully, moving her head up to search his eyes.

  He pushed her tumbling locks away from her face and kissed her until her mouth throbbed.

  “Mortally wounded, I’m sure of it now, Vevina,” he said with a groan.

  “Oh, Stewart, I’m so sorry,” she said apologetically, convinced he was serious.

  “No, my love, you haven’t hurt me.” He smiled kindly as he kissed her and tried to wipe away her worried frown. “But I’ll be devastated when you’re gone.”

  “Let’s not talk of that now, Stewart,” Vevina urged, smothering his face in kisses.

  “The woman is insatiable. Surely you can’t want more,” he teased.

  “No, not of that, just your warm arms around me, your kisses.”

  Stewart wrapped his arms around her tightly as she remained laying on his chest, and they nestled deep under the covers, huddled together against the night’s chill.

  But Vevina knew she would have to go soon, so in spite of her weariness she stayed awake. She wanted to feel Stewart against her, remember that night for always. Even if this was the last time they ever laid eyes on each other, Vevina knew she would never be haunted by the man from the ball again.

  She had wondered about all the things that might have been with him, but with Stewart she didn’t have to wonder. She knew.

  She loved him. Even if they didn’t have a future together, Vevina had enough happy memories of shared passion from that one night to last a lifetime.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The next morning, Vevina knew that it was time to get ready to head to Wellington's headquarters when she heard the first stirrings in the camp. She eased herself from Stewart’s side carefully, and went outside to the kitchen tent, wrapped only in her cloak. She put on a pan of water, and once it was warm, she sponged herself down, and then got dressed.

  She lit a candle, and propped Stewart’s large shaving mirror up against a loaf of bread while she applied more boot polish to her hair, and then waited for it to dry. She smudged a bit across her eyebrows, and even dabbed a little on her fair lashes, and was almost convinced a Spanish lady was staring back at her.

  Then she went out to saddle her horse, and she checked her weapons one last time. She was anxious to get far away from the French patrols while it was still pitch dark outside. She took the packets Stewart had made up for her off the table and put them into her blouse, and then, as Mitchell came up with the horses they had been allocated, she tucked her pistols into her broad leather belt.

  Wilfred came out of his tent to say one last goodbye. A few tears were shed as she had to part with her closest friends, but she promised to be careful and return soon.

  Then Wilfred kissed his sister, and went off with Beckett and Martha and Bob to begin the pretended breaking up of the British camp.

  “Are you ready, Viv?” Mitchell beamed cheerfully, looking for all the world as though he were going for a gallop in St. James’ Park.

  Vevina nodded, but was reluctant to go. She wanted to say goodbye to Stewart, but didn’t want to wake him, or stand in awkward silence while they both struggled for words. So with one last long look, she mounted her horse.

  Just as she was about to ride off, she heard Stewart shout “Vevina!”

  She turned her mount, and Stewart ran up to stand beside her and snatched hold of the bridle.

  “You can’t go! I won’t let you. It’s too dangerous!”

  She sidled the horse away from him. “Stewart, we’ve been over this before. You want me to go to Wellington with these vital messages. It’s too late to change your mind now. And you’ve already demanded that I should go home against my will, even when I tell you I'm safer here with you. We went over this yesterday. Let’s not argue now.”

  “That was before last night,” he said quietly, gazing up at her with undisguised longing.

  Vevina fought back her burning desire to dismount and go back with him to the warmth and security of their tent.

  But finally she shook her head, and smiled down into his stormy blue eyes. “Stewart, you’ll catch you death standing there half naked in only your breeches arguing with me. I must go. This is goodbye.”

  “I can’t let you do this!” Stewart protested vehemently, tugging at the bridle as she began to canter away.

  “It’s too dangerous. Let someone else go with the message, and if you really are going home, I’ll apply for leave and take you back myself. Or if I can’t get it, I’ll give you a proper escort to Lisbon in a few more days, and Will can go with you.”

  Vevina remained firm. She slowed the horse long enough to stoop down to kiss him.

  He let go of the bridle, convinced of his victory.

  “Thank you for last night, Stewart, but my mind is made up. I must see Wellington,” she insisted, as she spurred her horse forward.

  “All right then, but that means this is goodbye forever,” Stewart declared as he ran alongside her, and Vevina could hear his voice shake.

  “Look after yourself, Stewart!”

  “Don’t you dare come back, Vevina! I mean it!”

  “Are you sure?” she asked, wheeling her horse around so she could see him in the dim light of the coming dawn.

  “Yes, I do, but you go with all my love. When this is all over, I'll find you in London, as soon as I am back. Wait for me?”

  Vevina turned to blow a kiss at him. “I’ll wait forever if I have to! Will you wait for me?”

  “Yes, I’ll wait,” he called. "You're a woman worth waiting for. Godspeed!"

  Vevina knew she would never leave him unless Wellington imprisoned her, but there was no point in arguing with him in the freezing cold, and time was moving on. It was getting light, and she had a mission to perform.

  “Farewell for now,” she said with a wave. With one last look, she turned, sighed, and then spurred her horse. Soon she and Mitchell were galloping out of the camp at breakneck speed.

  Vevina and Mitchell did see French patrols on the way, up the road towards Guarda, where Wellington had set up his headquarters, but the cavalry were too far off to give them more than a half-hearted chase.

  Vevina rode on, urging her horse over the rough terrain, and trying not to remember the events of the previous night.

  But her recollections of Stewart’s lovemaking burned, and she couldn’t help but wonder
if she were doing the right thing. She loved him, and longed to be with him, but perhaps her being in the camp was just an unnecessary distraction for him when he had so much to worry about, epecially the treachery of his own brother.

  On the other hand, he himself had admitted how valuable she was around the camp, and he seemed to rely upon her friendship and skills a great deal.

  She couldn’t see herself tamely going back to England, not without her brother and Stewart. God only knew when she would ever see them again, and leaving them all in danger, well, it was unthinkable.