Sweet Awakening

by Marjorie Farrell

  Giles was at her side immediately. “You have to go slowly and carefully, Clare,” he said sympathetically as she looked at her arm. One scratch was deep, and the beads of blood welling up looked like tiny berries. Giles patted her arm gently with the tail of his shirt while Clare protested.

  “Close your eyes, Clare, and open your mouth,” he chanted the old childhood charm, “and I will give you something to make you feel better.”

  Clare tilted her face toward him. Giles placed a few ripe berries on her tongue, and just as she closed her mouth over them and began to open her eyes, he leaned over and kissed her.

  Although it was a soft and gentle kiss, the intensity of their feelings surprised them both. Giles drew back immediately, embarrassed and ashamed. Clare was only fourteen, hardly out of childhood, although her body was beginning to look like a woman’s, he realized, as for the first time he took in the soft curves of her.

  When she opened her eyes, he stammered something about how his mother would always tell him as a child that a kiss would make it better, trying to put the moment in a safe and familiar context.

  “But I am sorry, Claire, I should not have done that.”

  Clare wondered at his apology. She supposed he was right; he should not have kissed her. Giles had surprised her, but she had also surprised herself. She would have had the kiss go on longer, with the sun beating down upon them and the sweet berry juice running down her throat and the soft pressure of Giles’s lips making her feel as wet and juicy as a berry itself.

  They filled their pails quickly, and by the time they reached Whitton, their everyday camaraderie had reasserted itself. But when Clare returned home to Rowland, she was very happy to think about her parents’ comments over the past two years. “It would be an ideal match,” her father had told her mother.

  And so, although the regular visits came to an end that summer, she kept up a correspondence with Sabrina and the two families sometimes got together for a holiday. There was no formal agreement, but it was assumed by both the Whittons and the Dysarts that by the time Giles was down from Oxford and Clare came up for her first Season, their children would see what an ideal couple they would make.

  Chapter One

  London, 1816

  Lady Straiton’s ball always took place on Thursday evening of the third week of the Season. It was her way of ensuring that hers would be the first real crush, for she purposely waited until everyone had arrived in London, even the Whittons, who invariably came up to town late.

  “It gets worse every year,” complained the earl, as he peered out the coach windows trying to see if the carriages in front of them were moving at all. “I always swear we will decline the invitation, and damned if you don’t always talk me into it, Helena.”

  “Now, William, you know one cannot refuse the countess. Why, when the Allendales did one year, she made sure they were hardly seen anywhere else.” Lady Sabrina stole a glance at her brother, who, as often happened, was turning to her at the same time to share his amusement. Although Giles had not been a witness to this little contretemps for four years as Sabrina had, he was familiar enough with similar scenes, both in London and the country, with his father protesting a social obligation and his mother gently but firmly persuading him into it.

  “I have to confess I sympathize with Father,” said Giles. “I am not looking forward to being squeezed and trampled on the dance floor. But I bow to your greater social wisdom, Mama,” he added with a teasing grin.

  His mother rapped him with her fan. “Don’t encourage your father, Giles. And I thought you would be looking forward to this evening. The Dysarts will be there, and you have not seen Clare for over a year.”

  “We are finally moving,” interrupted the earl, not wanting his wife to go further. He was hoping, nay, planning on this match, which he considered ideal for both families, but knew that the quickest way to put up a young man’s back was to push him at some eligible young lady. And this would be the first occasion that Giles would be meeting Clare as an eligible match. Whatever the unspoken understanding up until now, Clare had been too young and Giles too busy taking his first in Classics to see each other as anything but old friends.

  While the earl trusted to the deep and long friendship between them, many things could happen in a girl’s first Season. And a young man’s, for that matter. For although Giles had come to London off and on, this would be the first spring that his attention would be free and undivided. And there would be many new and attractive young ladies present beside Clare.

  The earl need not have worried. By that last summer, Giles had known that he loved her. It had grown slowly, this love, developed naturally and organically out of their old friendship. He had never spoken of it, however, even to Sabrina. And especially not to Clare, although he was sure she must know how he felt. On one hand, he was absolutely certain that she felt the same way and at the end of her first Season would announce their betrothal. On the other, he was still protective of her. What if, by some small chance, he were wrong? What if she met someone during this spring? He knew Clare very well: if he spoke to her, if he revealed his feelings too soon, then she would feel under an obligation, both to him and their two families. So he had decided to leave her free for the rest of the spring before declaring himself.

  * * * *

  After what seemed a week, their coach pulled up to the Straiton’s front steps. There was another wait before they were announced. Although, as Giles muttered to Sabrina, he couldn’t see the point of announcing their arrival, since no one could hear anything over all the noise.

  They pushed their way slowly through the crowd toward the ballroom, where Giles began searching for Clare. He hadn’t thought he was being obvious, but Sabrina tugged his sleeve and said, “There she is, Giles, over there. I am so eager to see her. And doesn’t she look delightful?” She took her brother’s arm and let him make a path along the edge of the ballroom until they came to the small group of which Clare was a part.

  Clare looked more than delightful, thought Giles as he greeted her. She was dressed in a pale lavender silk gown with a silver gauze overskirt. A dark purple ribbon was threaded through her blond curls, which made her eyes look violet.

  Giles realized anew how pretty she was. He had never seen her dressed for a ball before. And he had put their summer kiss out of his mind. But he felt desire stir as he gazed down into her eyes. She was fully a woman, he realized, as he glanced down, appreciating the way the silk clung to her under the near transparent overdress. His eyes went to her sweetly rounded breasts which were exposed enough to make her gown fashionable but not immodest. Giles wondered how it would feel to brush his hand against one. When he had resolved to keep his feelings to himself for a while, he had not reckoned on the intensity of his desire, only the strength of his love. It was going to be much more difficult than he thought to delay his proposal.

  He found himself stammering out some ridiculously obvious comment about the crowd while Sabrina moved forward and gave Clare a hug.

  “It is so good to see you again at last,” his sister said, while Giles stood tongue-tied. “How are you liking your come out? I am sure your card has been full from your first evening.”

  Clare smiled. “Not always full, Sabrina, but I haven’t had to hold up the wall for longer than a dance or two on any one evening.”

  “I should hope not,” declared her friend.

  Giles finally found his voice. “I hope you will be able to find one for me tonight?”

  Clare looked over her card carefully. “I am not sure but that I can squeeze you in, why in an hour or two,” she replied. As she saw Giles frown, she immediately reached out her hand to touch his arm in reassurance. “Of course, I am only funning, Giles. In fact, after this next country-dance, I am free for a cotillion if you wish?”

  “Clare, Clare, you must play harder to get,” said a familiar voice. Both Giles and Sabrina looked over in surprise as they realized that Lucy Kirkman was a member of Clare’s
group. “I cannot fit you in until the end of the evening, Giles,” she said with a teasing smile.

  “Well, the last dance it will be, Lucy,” he replied, moving over to her side.

  “Whatever are you doing, hanging around with that cat,” Sabrina whispered to Clare.

  “Why, she has been very kind to me. I knew so few people, and she has introduced me around and made me feel comfortable, Sabrina.”

  “I am sure it is only because it makes her look kinder than she is and enables her to feel superior, Clare.” And if she is close to you, it is insurance that she will be close to Giles, thought Sabrina. Lucy had never again shown what Sabrina thought of as her real self to her brother after that first summer, and Giles and Clare seemed to have forgotten her behavior. But Sabrina didn’t trust her an inch and began to worry that Lucy might manage to snag her brother after all. And what defense would Clare have against her?

  * * * *

  If Sabrina was correct about Lucy, then Miss Kirkman must have been very unhappy during the next few weeks. Indeed, more than a few young ladies looked forward to the Viscount Whitton’s appearance, for he was not only the heir to the Earl of Amesford, but most attractive in his own right, with his changeable hazel eyes and athletic physique. But after that first dance, there was never any doubt in anyone’s mind that Giles was presenting himself as Clare’s suitor.

  Giles did his best not to monopolize Clare, for he really did want her to have a chance to meet a wide range of young men. When she finally accepted him, which he fully expected she would, he wanted it to be out of choice, not familiarity.

  But it was hard to keep away. The stirring of desire he had felt on that first night had quickened into something much stronger, and Giles found himself looking for opportunities to brush Clare’s arm or keep a hand on her waist a little longer than was necessary in a dance. He went gently and slowly, however. She never pulled away from physical contact, but he was never sure whether she felt a matching desire. But her seeming innocence regarding his growing attraction only made him feel more protective, and he enjoyed fantasizing how he would be her teacher in the art of making love.

  Clare was delighted by Giles’s attentions. She had wondered all year about this Season. She knew that both families assumed an eventual engagement. It was certainly what she wanted. What could be more ideal than to have her good friend Giles as her husband?

  And her first few weeks in London did nothing to change her mind. Despite the fact that she was meeting handsomer young men and more sophisticated older ones, there was no one to compare with her memories of Giles. She had worried that he might have changed. After all, she was not anything so very special. What if he arrived in town and immediately fell in love with someone like Lucy Kirkman? She could hardly blame him, for Lucy and the other young women were much more attractive and confident than she.

  But Giles made it clear that nothing had changed, and within a week, their relationship was as easy and close as it had ever been. And perhaps a little more interesting, for Clare was aware of Giles’s touch when they brushed hands over a glass of punch, or when he pulled her a little closer than was necessary during a dance. She found it very pleasant, this new dimension to their friendship.

  Clare was sure that Giles would propose before the end of the Season, and she would, of course, accept. She began to let herself indulge in daydreams of their life together as husband and wife. They would read to each other at night in front of a cozy fire and then retire early. Giles would kiss her gently and hold her close. Eventually they would have children. Perhaps twins, for didn’t that run in families? And grow old together. Clare would have tears in her eyes when she pictured them gray-haired, walking slowly around the garden at Whitton, and hearing the sounds from the lawn where their grandchildren would be playing.

  * * * *

  “When are you going to offer for Clare?” asked Sabrina. She and Giles usually breakfasted early, before their parents got up, and so they were alone.

  Giles groaned. “Is it that obvious? I have been trying not to be, or to crowd her too much.”

  “Perhaps it would not be to anyone who didn’t know you well. Or the situation. But we’ve all taken it for granted for years, haven’t we?”

  “That’s exactly why I haven’t wanted to presume too much. I wanted to make sure that Clare feels free when she says ‘yes.’" he answered.

  “Aha! So you do assume success!”

  “I am reasonably confident, Brina,” said her brother, with a smile. “After all, we have loved each other as friends for a long time. That is a very strong foundation for a marriage.”

  “What of passion, Giles? Do you feel that for Clare?”

  Giles felt his face grow warm. “Really, Sabrina, you should be the one blushing after asking such a question,” he answered.

  “But it is an important one, don’t you agree?”

  Giles cleared his throat. “Speaking for myself, I can say that I feel a growing, mm, physical attraction to Clare.”

  “And Clare?”

  Really, his sister was incorrigible, thought Giles. “She is clearly not repelled by physical contact.”

  “But has she responded?”

  “Sabrina, this is really none of your business.”

  “Oh, Giles, don’t get prim and proper on me. Of course it is. I love you and want you to be happy. Mama and Papa have always had a strong response to one another. We have both had that as a model, and speaking for myself, I will not settle for anything less.”

  “And is that why you are still looking?”

  “Don’t try to change the subject, Giles.”

  “I have been proceeding slowly because of Clare’s innocence, Sabrina.”

  “Then she hasn’t maneuvered you outside for a kiss?”

  “Of course not.”

  Sabrina laughed. “Well, Lucy Kirkman would have by now.”

  “Lucy Kirkman? Whatever has she got to do with this?” Giles responded, completely baffled.

  “Oh, just that I have thought she’s had her eye on you for years. I wondered whether you might finally have noticed it. In fact, I worried a little about Clare ...”

  “There is not, nor ever could be anyone but Clare for me, Sabrina,” her brother replied seriously. “I think I probably started to love her the day she arrived at Whitton, looking so lost and lonely.”

  Sabrina sighed.

  “I have just declared my passion, and you are still not satisfied?” teased Giles.

  “Oh, don’t mock me, Giles. I am sure my fantasy of the perfect marriage is just that, a fantasy. It is only that I would not want a man to be too much my protector. I have always believed that true passion can only exist when a man and a woman feel that they give to each other equally. And I am being very stupid, you are right,” she confessed. “It was clear from the first that you and Clare were made for each other. I am sure that passion needn’t spring up overnight, but may also grow slowly. Indeed, I’ll probably be warming my cold, spinsterly hands in front of your fire for years to come.”

  Giles reassured his sister that there was no possible chance of her remaining a spinster. After she left, he sat by himself a few minutes, over a cold cup of coffee. He adored his sister, and in some ways was closer to her than he was to Clare. And yet he knew he would never have chosen to marry a woman like Sabrina. He disagreed with her. He believed that passion between a man and a woman was sparked partially, if not wholly, by the fact that a woman depended on a man. Clare was the perfect wife for him. However, he thought it would do no harm to maneuver Clare onto a balcony for a kiss, just to test his theory.

  * * * *

  Accordingly, after a vigorous country-dance with her at Lady Bellingham’s rout the next night, Giles asked Clare if she would like to step out into the garden. When she smiled shyly and agreed, Giles led her out and they spent five minutes walking up and down the path admiring the flowers and chatting comfortably about nothing in particular. There were a few other couples outside
also, but Giles purposely guided them down a path that led to a small garden bench.

  “Come, sit down next to me, Clare,” he said.

  Clare sat gingerly near the edge of the bench. She might be inexperienced, but she was not stupid. She knew she was about to receive a kiss, and although she was nervous, she would not act coyly reluctant, not when she had been wondering about the possibility of another kiss for the last four years.

  When he put both hands on her shoulders to turn her toward him, she closed her eyes and lifted her face. Giles smiled down at the sight: she was all expectant naiveté, and he leaned down and brushed her lips lightly at first. Clare’s eyes flew open, and as he gazed down into them, he slipped his hands around her waist and neck and bringing her up to him, close enough to feel her breasts brush his chest, leaned down to kiss her again, this time less gently and more insistently.

  He could feel her shiver and slowly tried to tease her mouth open. She didn’t resist him. Indeed, she tentatively began to kiss him back. But she was afraid of the strength of her own feelings, and so her lips never parted. Giles pulled away after a moment, and assuming that Clare was overcome with shyness, grasped her hand and led her back down the path, chatting about this and that until she began to relax. When they reached the ballroom, she looked up at him and said softly: “Thank you, Giles,” and then hurried off to join Sabrina and a group of her friends.

  Giles watched her go and thought that all in all, even though it was not quite the kiss he had wanted, it had been a successful attempt. Clare was obviously one of those women who would be slow to discover the passionate side of her nature, but he felt they had made a good beginning tonight, and he intended to get her alone again soon.