Marigold Chain

by Riley, Stella

  Her brows rose. Whatever else she’d expected, it wasn’t this. ‘Yes.’

  ‘Why? Forgive my bluntness, but I basically told you I hadn’t had a woman for at least six months and you believed me?’

  ‘Yes. You may not always tell the whole truth – but I don’t think I’ve ever known you to lie. So of course I believed you.’

  ‘Thank you.’ He smiled crookedly. ‘At least you know I’m not a rake, then.’

  ‘That’s true.’ She tilted her head and smiled back at him, suddenly calm. ‘I hadn’t quite thought of it that way.’

  ‘No.’ He paused, struggling to find the words ‘And the other evening when I made a lamentably clumsy attempt to … how shall I put it? … when I -- ?’

  ‘Pounced,’ supplied Chloë before she could stop herself.

  Alex gave a tiny choke of laughter. ‘Very well. When I pounced on you … did you wonder if that was a result of a sudden and overwhelming fit of non-specific lust?’

  ‘You mean did I think you were desperate and I just happened to be handy? It crossed my mind, yes.’ She eyed him amiably. ‘But I decided that, after eight months of celibacy, you were entitled to a small lapse. Then again, if you really were crazed with lust, I imagine you’d probably have come straight to the point, as it were. So I decided it wasn’t worth worrying about.’

  This time Alex stared at her as if he couldn’t quite believe his ears. Finally, he said, ‘And people think I say outrageous things.’

  ‘And so you do. Sometimes.’ She grinned. ‘Perhaps it’s catching.’

  ‘God, I hope not!’ Rising, he pulled off his coat and tossed it aside, then moved round the table to take the chair beside her. ‘If it wasn’t worth worrying about, why did you crack a bottle over my head?’

  This was also unexpected but Chloë kept her nerve and, shaking her head, said, ‘If you don’t know, you can’t have thought about it properly.’

  ‘I’ve thought about it,’ he said, his eyes suddenly serious, ‘but the only reason I can come up with is the one I don’t want to talk about just yet.’ He hesitated and then said abruptly, ‘Giles told me that Sarah came here. What did she say to you?’

  Chloë drew a long breath and released it. ‘She said you would marry her.’

  ‘And did you believe her?’

  ‘I – I don’t know. I thought that perhaps you might.’

  Silence stretched out on invisible threads before Alex spoke with careful detachment.

  ‘And if I did … would you mind?’

  She looked him in the eye. ‘Yes. I would. She’s selfish and vain and downright nasty.’

  ‘I know. But is that the only reason?’

  ‘Not entirely. Matt would never stand for it,’ she replied as flippantly as she was able. And then, realising what he’d said, ‘What do you mean – you know?’

  Alex shrugged. ‘I know what she is. I’ve known for a long time. And if she was the last woman in the world, I’d join a monastery. But she won’t trouble us again. That’s why I went to see her that night – to put an end to her importunities once and for all.’ Reaching out, he took Chloë’s hand and toyed with her wedding band. ‘Your remark just now about Matthew … I recall saying quite a number of stupid things to you the other night – but, as you very well know, I wasn’t particularly sober. So it really isn’t very kind of you to throw my idiocies in my teeth.’

  Chloë frowned. ‘I wasn’t. And I’m perfectly well aware that you weren’t drunk, just bone-tired – and that you’re not an habitual sot. I’ve only ever seen you hopelessly drunk once and that was - - ‘ She stopped short.

  ‘And that was on the night of our wedding,’ he finished pleasantly. ‘Quite. Do you despise me for it?’

  ‘No! How could I? It is I who should never have agreed to it.’

  Alex continued to turn her wedding ring on her finger, his eyes never leaving her face.

  ‘So why did you?’

  ‘W-what?’ Chloë wondered how she’d failed to foresee this question.

  ‘Why did you marry me?’

  ‘We’ve been through this before. You know why.’

  A strange smile crossed his face. ‘All right. Why did you suggest the annulment?’

  ‘You know that, too,’ she said evasively.

  ‘Perhaps – perhaps not.’ He released her hand. ‘Chloë … I’m sorry, but we can’t go on ducking the issue. We have to discuss it.’

  She stared at him forebodingly. ‘Now?’

  ‘Yes – now.’ Unable to sit still any longer, he rose and crossed to the fireplace. Then, turning he said, ‘I tried to broach this subject a week ago but with a crassness for which I can only apologise. Forget, if you can, the reasons I gave you then – for only one was the absolute truth. Everything else was an attempt to test the water without committing myself and none of it came out right.’ He paused and dragged his eyes away from the curve of her throat and the silky perfection of her bare shoulders. ‘But before we go any further, you have to tell me if you still wish to proceed with the annulment.’

  For one very good reason, Chloë found herself unable to comply with this request so, avoiding his gaze, she made yet another attempt at evasion.

  ‘I don’t understand why you want to know.’

  ‘And I don’t understand why you won’t answer me,’ he responded tartly. ‘It’s a simple enough question, after all. Yes or no, would do.’ He paused and then said, ‘I’m sorry if I sound sharp but this has to stop. There is only one reason for two people remaining needlessly tied to one another and it has to be mutual. If one is the victim of the other’s overwhelming passion, the situation would become impossible.’

  ‘Oh God,’ thought Chloë. ‘He knows.’ And leaving her seat, she turned blindly away to the dresser. ‘Yes, I can quite see that – and of course I’ll release you. Have some brandy.’

  Swift and soundless, Mr Deveril followed her, one flawed but still beautiful hand imprisoning hers around the neck of the squat, green bottle. He was so close that Chloë could feel his warmth against her back; she stared at the hand enclosing hers while every nerve in her body demanded what it now seemed she would never have.

  ‘Chloë, no.’ The pleasant voice was brittle. ‘It’s not I that am trapped – it’s you. What I’m trying to tell you is that, for me, this half-marriage of ours is no longer enough.’

  Her mind was working very slowly and his meaning escaped her but she grasped at the small ray of light which offered her the only thing she’d ever realistically hoped for.

  ‘You mean you want me to go to bed with you?’

  ‘Christ!’ he said raggedly. ‘You have no idea.’

  ‘If that means yes, you could seduce me,’ she suggested helpfully. ‘You already know you wouldn’t find it very difficult.’

  ‘Yes. Perhaps.’ Alex drew a long, unsteady breath. ‘But that’s not enough. I love you.’

  There was a dizzy, earth-shaking pause while the words filtered dimly into Chloë’s brain. Then, ‘What did you say?’ she asked faintly.

  Releasing her hand, Alex swung her round to face him.

  ‘Look at me,’ he said. And when her eyes rose to his, ‘Look at me and try to believe me. I said that I love you. And I do – in every way it’s possible. Beside you, every woman I ever knew is but a shadow, a phrase, a single note; you are the flesh and the poem. And my heart’s song.’ He paused and then resumed carefully. ‘I asked what you wanted in order to spare you an outpouring of possibly unwanted emotion – but it’s too late for that now. You should understand that I don’t want to give you up but I don’t think I can go on as we are. My feelings for you are not mild – and I’d be less than fair if I didn’t point out that I can’t promise to stick to our original bargain. I’m no catch, I know; I’m intemperate and often bloody impossible. And if … if you let our marriage stand, I can’t even promise that you’ll never regret it – only that I’ll try not to give you cause. If you loved me, that might be enough. If not … oh God, if
not then say so now and let’s get the sodding annulment.’

  Seconds ticked by in silence. Chloë neither moved nor spoke but remained as if frozen, staring into the anguished candour of the blue eyes. Then, just when Alex thought he’d lost, she laid one hand gently against his cheek and said, ‘I don’t want an annulment. I never wanted it. I only wanted you. That’s why I hit you over the head. I thought you’d have realised.’

  He frowned and said slowly, ‘I must be very slow - because I still don’t.’

  ‘If we’d gone to bed together that night, there’d have been no question of an annulment. And I had to be sure you still had a choice.’

  A tiny flush touched his skin and the bright gaze widened, searching her face.

  ‘And now?’

  She smiled. ‘Now it doesn’t matter. You wanted the truth. And the truth is that I loved you from the first time we met – and when you kissed me in that horrid alley, I knew that I did.’

  Alex stared at her, his hands tightening on her shoulders.

  ‘I’ve tried so hard these past few weeks to think that you cared for me just a little – but I never dreamed … ‘ He stopped. ‘Perhaps I’ve been blind – but I can’t imagine what you could have seen in me. Are you … are you quite sure?’

  ‘Utterly, totally, irrevocably sure.’ Touched by his lack of vanity, she slid her arms around him and leant her head against his shoulder; and, as he gathered her closer, she said, ‘As for what I saw in you that first time, I really don’t know. I didn’t for quite a long time even though what I felt didn’t change. It was only later, when I came to know you that I understood – and by then it was too late.’ She looked up, drowning in the warmth and scent of him. ‘If a hundred or even a thousand well-behaved men queued up to offer me their hands, there would still only be you. Always and forever. I love you and I want you and … and are you ever going to kiss me?’

  Alex smiled down into her upturned face, for once beyond words. Then he slid his fingers into her hair and, bending his head, forged a trail of tiny kisses from cheekbone to jaw before finally seeking her mouth like a man parched. Drowning in sweetness, Chloë gasped and twined her hands around his neck to press herself even closer. He had kissed her before and it had been enough to steal her heart … but not like this. Never with a passion that out-rivalled her own and sent sparks racing through her veins.

  Eventually and with extreme reluctance, Alex released her mouth and looked deep into dilated brown eyes. There was no fear in them, no constraint; only an echo of his own need. He said, ‘Chloë? If it’s too soon – if you want to wait – ‘

  ‘No,’ she said with a smile that stopped his breath. ‘No. We’ve waited long enough.’

  ‘Come, then.’ And lifting her easily in his arms, he carried her, laughing a little, into the hall and was just setting foot on the stairs when he spied Mr Lewis emerging from the kitchen. Pausing, Alex said, ‘Repel all boarders, Matt. I don’t care who they are. Even if it’s the King himself, just send him on his way.’

  Matthew grinned and settled himself on a chair in the corner.

  ‘Right you are, then,’ he said. And pulling a bit of wood from his pocket, embarked calmly on some serious whittling.

  Alex, meanwhile, had sailed on up the stairs and into Chloë’s bedchamber.

  ‘It’s tidier than mine,’ he murmured absently, ‘and it has both a lock and a bolt.’ He set Chloë on her feet and let his hands stray lingeringly over her shoulders. Then she was in his arms again.

  He kissed her hair, her eyelids, her throat while his hands unhurriedly smoothed away the ribbons and laces. The peacock gown slithered to the floor allowing his mouth to explore her shoulders; then, a little later, her petticoats followed it and he lifted her out of them before taking his time over the curve of her waist. Shaken by pulses and clad only in her shift, Chloë slid her hands beneath his shirt until Alex pulled it off over his head and tossed it aside, leaving her free to discover the hard contours of his chest. He paused for a moment, the intense ice-blue gaze resting on her mouth with an expression that sent heat flooding through her body; and then, sliding the shift slowly from her shoulders to leave her wearing only the marigold chain, lifted her on to the bed and spoke for the first time.

  ‘For you are fairer than the evening air … and my only love.’

  Her breathing wholly disrupted and her bones melting in a maelstrom of desire, Chloë reached out to him. And shedding the rest of his clothes without once taking his eyes from her, Alex took the hand that she offered and lay down beside her. Flesh met flesh and Chloë gasped, stunned by the sudden explosion of sensation; and when he kissed her again, the sparks in her blood became wildfire.

  After so long an abstinence and with the only girl he wanted in his arms at last, Alex had to exert iron control over his own desire – and simultaneously use all the skills he owned to make sure that she would not know it. Slowly, tantalisingly, he explored her body with his mouth and with light, questing hands … rejoicing in every tremor of response and leading her, with every grace and care at his command, towards the ultimate delight. And Chloë, intoxicated by the muscle and bone beneath his skin, driven beyond all thought and consumed by a hunger greater than anything she could ever have imagined, said two words without knowing what they were.

  Alex looked at her, his control all but gone yet still needing to be sure. And then, at long last, gratefully forsook his exquisite courtship and entered the fire and silk she offered him.

  Much later, he smiled down into her cloudy brown eyes and stroked tendrils of hair from her cheek. Gradually, her eyes focused on his, their expression one that stopped his breath for a moment. Then he said, ‘Well, my heart?’

  She stirred slightly. ‘Alex … I didn’t know.’ Her mouth found his hand. ‘I love you so much.’

  ‘And I you. Always and forever.’

  They slept then till the sun rose, filling the room with a rosy glow and it was Alex who woke first. For a long time he was content to lie still, holding her against his heart and looking down into her sleeping face and at the bright hair spread in gleaming disorder across his arm. Then, unable to resist any longer, he set about waking her with the lazy drift of his hands.

  Her eyes opened slowly and she smiled up at him. And this time it was she who drew his head down to hers and, sliding a slender foot along his calf, said simply, ‘Oh yes. Please.’

  They slept again to wake far into the day when Mr Deveril roused his love by tickling her face with a strand of rose-gold hair. Propped lazily on one elbow, he lifted one eyebrow and said, ‘Hello. I’ve married a turnip. Do you realise it’s already tomorrow?’

  Chloë started to laugh and then thought returned bringing recollection flooding in its wake. Her eyes flew suddenly wide and she made a small, incoherent sound.

  Alex eyed her quizzically.

  ‘In general, I rather like the profound effect I appear to have on you. But just what have I said this time to deprive you of breath?’ He waited, idly tracing the line of her jaw with one finger until, when she didn’t reply, ‘Well, Marigold?’

  A tide of colour washed over her and Alex watched its progress with interest. Then she swallowed and said weakly, ‘You just reminded me of a little thing I forgot to mention.’

  ‘I did?’

  ‘Yes. You may perhaps feel that I should have recalled it earlier.’

  ‘Oh I shouldn’t think so,’ he replied vaguely, his finger descending to investigate her clavicle and beyond it. ‘You’ve been somewhat occupied, after all.’

  ‘Only somewhat?’ She hoped keeping the mood light would help. ‘You mean you can do better?’

  ‘We can try to find out, if you like.’ He sounded amused and deceptively casual. ‘Now. What was it that you wanted to tell me?’

  Knowing that the sooner it was done the better, Chloë shut her eyes and said flatly, ‘We’re not married.’

  The straying finger was abruptly stilled and the silence grew to monumental proportion
s. Then, with careful precision, Alex said, ‘What did you say?’

  She opened her eyes on a wide, blue and quite unreadable gaze.

  ‘We’re not married. We haven’t been since Saturday. I – I got the annulment papers from the King.’

  ‘Did you?’ His tone was still level, if mildly strained. ‘Why?’

  She’d known he would ask but had never planned an answer. Averting her face from the penetrating eyes, she said, ‘I thought it was a good idea.’

  With one gentle, economic movement, Mr Deveril turned her face back towards him.

  ‘Why?’

  Even if she could have thought of a convincing lie, Chloë knew better than to suppose that she could fool him now. She sighed. ‘Because I should have refused to marry you in the first place – and I could have done. And because I didn’t want to make a habit of hitting you over the head.’

  For a second, he stared at her so oddly that she wondered if he’d understood. Then he said, ‘Oh God, Marigold – my delightful, wanton darling – my only mistake lay in giving you the chance.’ And burying his face in the pillows, he dissolved into helpless, gurgling laughter.

  It was a long time before he recovered and then, still hiccupping faintly, he said, ‘There are times, this being one, when you scare the hell out of me.’

  ‘Really? I’m flattered.’

  ‘Don’t be.’ His skin was flushed and his eyes brilliant. ‘The only reason I’m not beating you is that I’m rather taken with the idea of you lusting after my body.’

  Chloë sat up in mock indignation and was pulled flat again with a lazy sweep of one arm.

  ‘Also,’ continued Mr Deveril, ‘I’m aware that you did it for me – no, don’t argue. I’m just coming to the crux of the matter.’ He smiled with singular charm. ‘I never proposed to you, did I, Chloë? Nor courted or wooed you as you deserve?’

  She flushed and laid her hand against his chest.

  ‘I’ve had my courtship. All I ever wanted.’

  He took her hand and held it.

  ‘I’m glad.’ He paused, the blue eyes suddenly very serious indeed and went on simply, ‘My name is Alex Deveril and I’ve nothing to offer you but a rather shabby home and a great deal of love. Will you marry me?’