by Dayna Quince
He heard her sniff and Callen looked up. She wiped a tear from her eye.
“That's his wound,” she said. “He didn't get to say goodbye, and I bet, though it isn't your fault, he blames you.”
Callen regarded her, stunned. “He does blame me. He’s said it to me before, but I don't think I really heard him until now. It took him another day to arrive, and I remember the moment he walked into the study. I was sitting there at my father's desk with the solicitor. He seemed so confused because I'd never sat on that side of the desk. Not even when I was working with my father. I always sat to my father's right, and somehow, in that moment, he just knew.
“He ran from the room, looking for them, and I could hear him shouting for them. I had no idea what to do. I felt like somehow I had to replace them for him. I had to step in to their shoes, but I was frozen. I couldn't do it.”
“Of course you couldn't, no one could. It was so sudden. You had just lost them too.”
Callen shook his head. “That day was the longest day of my life,” he said.
She stood and approached him, running her fingers through his hair, and he closed his eyes and nuzzled the palm of her hand.
“I think I understand your brother now,” Luna said. “But what about you?” She stepped back from him, and he shifted uncomfortably.
“What about me?”
“You've talked about your parents. You talked about Theo at length, but who is Callen? What was his favorite subject in school, what sort of books do you like to read?”
He cleared his throat, relieved to talk about something else. “Well, I'm certainly not a spy. Never even dreamed of pursuing a career in the military. I don't think my father would’ve let me. My favorite subject in school was math. I like how predictable numbers are. I find it comforting. Once you know their patterns and their rules, the answers become rather clear. It made more sense to me than philosophical texts or musings about art ever did. I'm fluent in Latin, and I suppose Greek, but I did not keep up on it after University, so I don't know.”
He stared at the fire once more, remembering his years of school. He had many fond memories. He made friends easily. He'd arrived before Theo, and the first year when it had been just him had been one of the best years of his life.
“Theo and I are close in age, but I went to school a year ahead of him. For that year, I felt like I finally knew myself. I did everything on my own, and I never had to worry about him, about including him. I dreaded the next year when he finally would come to Eaton, but it wasn't as bad as I thought.”
“No? How so?”
“While he didn't thrive academically in school, he excelled at making friends. And though we had our difficulties and differences, my life did not change that much. When he joined me, I had my friends and they'd also befriended Theo by default, but we still felt separate. I suppose that was the year are differing personalities became so apparent at home. We both got a taste of freedom, and I suppose it was a kind of relief. I wasn't in charge of him per se, the teachers never expected me to see to him, to watch over him, to help him like my parents did. I would actually say it improved our relationship to have that bit of life that was just our own.”
Luna nodded. “I can certainly understand that. Sometimes it feels as though I don't know how to be anything else but a Marsden, the sixth sister. We’re all just part of one contraption that keeps the household running and to think of leaving it, beginning my own life… Sounds too good to be true.”
His gaze returned to her. “Are you afraid to leave home?” he asked.
She shrugged. “I think I might be. My whole life I've been expected to find a husband and leave, but how can I leave when there's no one to take over for the duties I perform? Who's going to cook? Who's going to mend Georgie's blistered fingers when she comes in from a long day in the fields? We all have to marry for the sake of our family, but at the same time, how will the others go on?”
The mention of marriage reminded him that he’d proposed to her earlier today, and she had all but refused him. Was this why? Was she afraid to leave her family because there would be no one left to replace her? Callen wanted to ask her, but he was afraid to ruin the moment.
He was so glad she was here at all, and they were talking, getting to know each other. He left his thoughts unsaid, but it weighed on his mind. He had only one brother to care for. Admittedly, that one brother was a lot of work, but he couldn't imagine worrying about the fate of eight more siblings.
He didn't know what to say to comfort and reassure her that it would all be fine. He could make it fine.
By marrying him.
Callen could take care of all of them, couldn't he? He wouldn't know where to begin. He would have to talk to her father and see where the need was the greatest. Perhaps a few more staff would make Luna more comfortable about leaving, and Callen could offer the use of his land agent to speak with Mr. Marsden and help him turn his fields around so the estate could earn more off its property.
Callen tried to remember what he was talking about. “Once we went to university, not much changed between Theo and I. If anything, we grew more distant from each other, which made it all the more difficult when we lost our parents. He was so angry, and I was angry. We didn't talk for a long time afterwards, even though we shared the same roof of the London townhouse. It was like living with a stranger. We'd end up at the same places in the same circle of friends, but we never had anything to say to each other.
“Sometimes I wanted to talk to him. Sometimes I wanted to forget we were brothers at all, and I would go on with my life. But then he started showing up in my study in the mornings, and he'd begun to need my help. Money to pay his debts and the like, and he looked so pitiful and weary, as if he’d finally burned through all his anger. I thought maybe, just maybe we could start again.”
“You helped him because that's what family does.”
“My father had asked me to look after him, and I didn't know what that meant at the time, but it became obvious I must help him if he came to me at all. We started this vicious cycle, helping and then hating, helping and then hating, and it just went on and on.”
She sat back in her chair and folded her hands in her lap. “You've gone to talking about Theo again. What about you, Callen?”
Callen stiffened. Indeed. What about him? That was the whole problem. His life had become purely about Theo, and he didn't even know who he was. But now he knew at least one thing: he loved Luna, and he didn't want to live without her.
“That's just it, Luna. I don't know who I am. Somewhere long ago, I lost myself and I became”—he laughed—“Theo’s nursemaid, and that's all I've ever been until now. You helped me see there was more. What you've seen is all there is. I know I lied. The lie was just to mask what was truly going on. Everything else was true, and when I told you the mission would never end, the mission was Theo. But I swear now it's over. I want a new life. I want a new purpose, and I want that purpose to be you.
“I may not know myself, but I know you. You're so strong and determined, so giving of your time, your patience, your forgiveness. I look at you and I see so much possibility, a future that is so bright and warm I want to run to it. I want to give you everything I have, and I won't take you away from your family. I want to help them too because I know how much they mean to you, and I understand your fear about not knowing what will happen to them if you leave. You don't have to leave them. I still want to know more about you.
“Tell me everything about you, everything about your childhood, every fight you had with your sisters, every worry, fear, and every sweet memory. I want to hear it all. Even if it takes a lifetime,” he said.
She laughed nervously and then bit her lip, his gaze catching on the sight of her teeth dragging across the plumpness of her kissable lips.
Lust stabbed him through the middle. He fisted his hands in the coverlet to keep himself planted where he was.
“That could take a long time,” she said.
“We have all night, Luna.”
Luna's heart was so full she couldn't speak. And she certainly didn't know what to do with herself. When she looked at him, he appeared so earnest, and she couldn’t refuse him.
Truthfully, she didn't want to leave. Luna was so shaken by this afternoon, by her own emotions, but being away from him certainly didn't calm her fears. When she was close to him, she felt the most clarity, and if he wanted to know about her sisters…about her… She had plenty to talk about.
She and her family had been through quite a bit. So had his, but they'd both been on different journeys with different problems and different outcomes.
Luna didn't know where to begin, so she started with her favorite memory.
“My very first memory is holding Willa.”
“Willa? How old was she?”
“She was still very much a baby but not a newborn. We’re only three years apart, and I must've been perhaps three or four,” Luna said. “But I remember looking down at her sweet little face and feeling so responsible because I was now big enough to hold my baby sister. I looked up to my sisters a lot.”
“Forgive me,” he hesitated, “but how old are you?”
“I'm twenty,” she replied.
He cursed.
“What?”
Luna laughed as he scrubbed his hands over his face.
“I’m fourteen years older than you,” he said. He looked very displeased by that fact.
“So? It's not as though I'm a child. I'm old enough to come out, if I were able to have a come out and debut into society. I should be marrying—” Her breath caught as she suddenly remembered that he did in fact propose to her earlier today. She told him she would think about it, which she'd been too stunned to properly do in so little time.
“I didn't realize I was so much older than you. When I think of a twenty-year-old woman, I see the fresh-faced chits that litter the ballrooms, too nervous to speak to me and clinging to their mothers’ skirt. You're not like that at all, which is a relief. This party would be a nightmare if you and your sisters were so harebrained.”
“Thank you…I think?”
“Oh, it is most definitely a compliment that you are nothing like those women. The men your age aren't any better, so I suppose it works out the same.”
“Twenty is a different age between men and women,” she said. “Women marry at twenty while men are in the midst of their young adulthood and university education.”
“And therein lies the difference between the sexes,” he said, “but we've got off track. So tell me more about your sisters and little Willa as a baby,” he bid.
Chapter 20
So Luna did. She lost all track of time as she regaled him with stories of growing up with eight sisters, their fights, their moments of laughter, their troubles, fears, and ultimately the tale of their survival, and how they came to understand their peculiar situation.
And how to overcome it.
Most importantly, when she next glanced at the clock, it was half-past three in the morning and they had traded places. She lounged on her side on the bed, facing the foot and he was in the chair, his feet bare, ankles crossed, resting on the foot of the bed.
There was a lull in their conversation, and he’d gotten up to refill his glass of brandy and offered to refill hers. She'd been sipping on the same glass for an hour now, but she shook her head. The warmth of the drink made her fuzzy and sleepy, but she didn't want to close her eyes, not when he had been lounging around shirtless for hours. She felt wicked. She'd spent a good amount of her time talking and simply looking at his beautiful maleness.
She had trouble keeping her thoughts away from the last time she'd been on this bed, but her mind wouldn't listen. Her body seemed to recall the event with great clarity, remembering the expert touch of his hands, the delicious feelings he created.
She was afraid he might read her thoughts and her expression, but she couldn't look away from him as he retook his seat, his gaze meeting hers, but he didn't put his feet back on the bed. He scooted the chair closer and leaned forward.
“Tell me a secret,” he whispered with a wicked grin.
Something fluttery swirled inside her, like butterflies. She scooted closer to him, unable to resist the invitation in his eyes as a strange fever took hold of her.
Perhaps she was dreaming. Maybe she was back in her bed already asleep, and everything that happened now was her secret wish.
The stuff of fantasy.
She reached out toward the edge of the bed, and he covered her hand with his. “A secret?”
He nodded.
She had no secrets. He now knew everything about her. Every scintillating thing she’d ever done had been with him. “You already know everything there is to know about me.”
“Truly?”
“Yes.” But there was something burning inside her. Words that needed to be released, a confession she’d only ever made to herself. Perhaps it was the effects of the brandy, but they wanted to spill out now, and why shouldn't she tell him? She couldn't think of a reason why not. She'd never felt more safe, or cared for, or freer than she did right now, here with him.
“I do have one secret,” she said.
He leaned even closer, and she drew toward him until she could hardly focus on his face. She stared at his lips and took a deep breath.
“I'm in love with you,” she whispered.
Her vision blurred as his lips became all she could see and then nothing as she closed her eyes and kissed him. That was all she had to do. He took control immediately, coming over her, moving her on the bed until they were both near the pillows, side-by-side. Mouths clinging, arms holding, her heels hooked over his calves, and her heart racing so fast she couldn't count the beats.
Luna didn't have to say a word. He just seemed to know exactly what she needed. To be held, to feel loved and cherished. And he did all that and more. His hands roamed over her body, freeing her from the restraint of her dress, and it disappeared over the side of the bed.
The cool air caressed her feet and calves as her stockings disappeared next. She’d taken her shoes off long ago, before lying on his bed. He undressed her down to her chemise, and his lips trailed liquid fire from her collarbone to the swells of her breasts.
Luna sighed. “Yes.”
She wanted his mouth on her just like before. She wanted everything from him. Luna didn't know she could want so fiercely, that she could need his touch more than she needed to breathe. He slipped the sleeves of her chemise from her shoulders, and she pulled her arms free, barely taking a breath before diving back into his kiss. Luna couldn't get enough of the taste of him, sweet like brandy, soft like velvet, hot like rays from the sun.
He broke the kiss, nudging her chin up and branding the sensitive skin of her neck with his mouth, moving down lower and lower until he took the peak of her breast into his mouth and sucked.
Luna moaned and cradled his head, holding him to her. She never felt such wicked pleasure. Such sweet pain as when he took her into his mouth like this, but he did not stay there long. He shoved her chemise lower, pulling it over her hips and down her legs until she was naked under him.
He licked down her body, from the valley between her breasts to her navel, and she shivered, the cold air no longer touching her as waves of delicious heat washed over her. He dipped his tongue in her navel and her hips bucked. His mouth moved lower, his lips and tongue dancing along her skin until he reached the soft curls of her sex.
Luna blushed from the roots of her hair to her toenails. But as he stared down at her, his expression one of determined worship, she let her legs fall open for him and braced herself for whatever he planned to do next.
As his tongue touched her sensitive flesh, Luna thought she might die of exquisite pleasure. She could barely keep still. The movements of his tongue and his fingers sent flashes of pleasure through her body like lightning, swift and bright. Luna was a storm of sensation, and when he entered her with his
fingers, her muscles clamped around him hungrily and she moaned.
Yes, she wanted him inside her. Luna wanted to feel all of him, not just his mouth, his tongue, his hands, she wanted him on top of her, over her, inside her.
“Please,” she begged, “I need you, Callen.”
Wave after wave of sensation on her delicate, sensitive bud. She trembled and the ache inside her only grew greedy for more. He ceased his torture and crawled over her, his mouth returning to her neck, and he took her earlobe into his mouth, his teeth lightly grazing the skin.
Luna clung to him, arms around his neck, holding him there between her thighs. She could still feel his hands moving over her, but then she heard the brush of his clothing as he removed his breeches. Her eyes opened and she peeked down and saw flashes of his bare hip, the swell of his buttocks as he kicked off his clothing. He settled between her thighs, and she felt the scalding heat of his manhood against her core. She didn't know what she was doing, but she followed the instincts of her body.
Luna parted her legs for him, felt a nudge of the smooth tip of his hardness. He came over her, resting his weight on his hands on either side of her shoulders, and their gazes met, his eyes dazed with passion, his breathing ragged.
“Tell me now if you want me to stop,” he said.
She shook her head. She never wanted him to stop. “I'm yours.”
He dropped to his elbows, one hand cupping her face, the other moving under her hips. He tilted her pelvis up and his arousal speared her, slowly and steadily.
Luna gripped his shoulders as he entered her, her flesh stinging, her internal muscles resisting his entry. But she focused on his kiss, the sweep of his tongue across her skin, the delicious weight of his body on top of hers, and the pain eased, the burning friction lessening as he began to slowly move in and out. Her pleasure slowly returned, the sweet ache growing. She had to break the kiss, panting into his shoulder, her nails digging into the skin of his back as the pressure built, and he moved faster inside her.
