The Muse

by Raine Miller

He did not have a long time to wait. Observing her involuntary movements, he saw the change in her breathing, the slight twitch of her eyes underneath her lids, indicating that she was waking. He tensed, unable to stop the fear from rising. Please let her be willing to hear me out. Lifting his head, he closed his eyes in silent, fervent prayer. When he lowered his head and opened his eyes he was rewarded with the very open and awake eyes of his beloved. She smiled. She’s smiling at me. Imogene pulled her hands out from under the pillow and lifted her arms to him, calling him to her.

  Not waiting for a second invitation, he lurched forward into her arms, settling himself on the bed facing her. He said nothing for a moment, just held on to her, absorbing her, savouring the moment. Graham could not have been more shocked than he was then, to hear the following words come from her lips, “My darling, I must beg your pardon for my abominable behaviour toward you last night. Can you possibly forgive me?”

  She is apologizing?

  “Wait, you are not angry and disgusted with me for last night?”

  A look of confusion crossed over her features. She frowned slightly. “No, darling, why would I be? You are the one who should be angry. I was well out of sorts last night, nonsensical and ill-mannered, abandoning you during the dancing and turning from you. I am so dreadfully sorry for all of it. I do not know what came over me, but I do know you did not deserve such treatment. I have been waiting all day to ask for your forgiveness.”

  “You have?”

  “I have.” She cupped his cheek and rubbed with her thumb. “It has been torture waiting for your return.”

  He just continued gaping at her incredulously, saying nothing.

  “Please tell me that you can forgive me,” she implored in a whisper.

  You are begging my forgiveness? This is the last thing I would have expected to end this hideous forenoon. Thank the glorious heavens!

  He pulled her close in a fevered kiss and began to laugh in silent shudders, nearly giddy with relief. “I forgive you, chérie…I love you…I adore you,” he chanted between kisses.

  “Graham? Are you laughing at me?”

  “God, no. I am laughing at the irony of the situation, chérie. You see, I was very drunk last night and know not what happened or what I might have done when I came up to bed. I woke late this morning and you were gone on your walk so I could not judge your countenance. I found myself unable to remember anything at all and I was…nude in the bed. I had terrible fear that I had pressed you, forced myself on you, and that you would despise me.”

  A slow grin appeared on Imogene’s face at his words. She arched her brows at him. “So you remember nothing of us last night?” Her words gave him the sure impression of details yet undisclosed.

  “What? What are you not telling me, Imogene?” he asked in a low voice. “Did something happen between us? Did I…?” When Imogene continued to smile slyly at him without further explanation he felt the unease begin to creep in once again. “Imogene, please! Please tell me what I did,” he begged.

  “I am sorry, darling, but I must say it feels wonderfully satisfying to actually be aware of something you know nothing about.” She brushed his lips with her fingers, smiling coquettishly.

  He rolled his eyes. “Not that tired subject again. Please tell me before I have an apoplexy! I cannot bear this uncertainty for another minute, Imogene.” He grew cold. “I did impose myself on you, didn’t I?” When she didn’t deny it he realized the truth. “I knew it. In my heart I knew I must have.”

  “Stop!” she ordered, gripping his face with both hands. “Stop this worry you have. You are nearly hysterical. I’ll tell you everything, I promise, but you must relax and take your ease. Do I look like I am angry, or frightened, or offended by you? No, I do not because I am none of those things, Graham.”

  Her words helped him to relax a little.

  “You came to bed and did awaken me with your loving attentions. When I asked you if you were foxed you answered honestly that you were and told me you loved me very much. You also said you knew I was vexed with you but that you didn’t know why, and wanted to know what you had done to upset me.” She reached to stroke his hair. “You were amorous, it’s true, but you asked for my willingness in it, and it was only when I assured you that I was indeed willing that you…proceeded. You would never force me, Graham. It’s not in your nature to even be capable of it. Do you not know yourself better than that?”

  He just stared at her unbelievingly. “This is bizarre. Having you telling me all of this and remembering none of it is the most disturbing feeling. So, now that we have established I made love to you in my oblivious state of drunkenness, how was I?” He threw the question out recklessly, knowing he was completely at her mercy by this point.

  She appeared to hold back a chuckle, rolling her lips closed. “Let’s just say you were more self-serving than I have ever known you to be, my darling.” The laugh she had held back before now escaping in good measure.

  “Ugh!” He actually felt himself flush. “It cannot possibly get any worse. So I did nothing for you?” he asked mortified.

  Imogene laughed. “Darling you tried, most valiantly and I was very appreciative until—” Continued laughing stopped her words.

  “I misspoke before, it is worse still! Please continue. You might as well tell me all of it and take it to the bitter end,” he groused.

  “You finished quite suddenly and…collapsed out cold. My greatest concern by that point was to get out from underneath you, for you had quite trapped me in your unconscious state and you were utterly unresponsive to my prodding and entreaties that you should move off.”

  “Sweet heavenly Christ! I am, I—I am without words—” He looked up to the ceiling and raised his hands. “Am I in hell?”

  Imogene laughed and laughed and could not stop. The clear, happy sound of it assuring him that she forgave his drunken, tactless lovemaking of the night before and that she did, for some reason, find it very amusing.

  It took a significant amount of soothing to convince him to let it go. Even so, he hoped she was left with the understanding that he would have gone to the ends of the earth to make it up to her. She told him she was just happy to be back in harmony with only love and caring between them.

  “My walk with Mina this morning was remarkable. She took me to the most magical place. I am still entranced by it utterly. It is a fairy ring of set stones in the most lovely secluded glade.”

  “You went to The Nine Ladies. It is lovely there. I have not gone up to see it in years.”

  “Oh, Graham, it is the most enchanting place. My first and only thought was to bring you there. I want to go there with you and lie down in the grass inside that circle of stones and seek out shapes in the clouds.”

  “You love the rocks and ruins, don’t you?”

  “I suppose I do. There is something so peaceful and soothing about them. What I wouldn’t give to have such a place at Gavandon for solitude and quiet reflection as The Nine Ladies. Is there such a thing at Gavandon?”

  “No, I am afraid there is not. But there are similar stones at Donadea and other ancient edifices on that estate. Such stones are scattered far and wide in Ireland. It makes one wonder as to the people who envisioned such constructions in the first place.”

  “Graham, will you go with me tomorrow to The Nine Ladies?”

  “Yes of course, chérie.” An idea of inspiration hit him. “Wait, do you want to go now? Right now on horseback? We could take horses and it would be no time at all before we could be there.”

  “But you have just returned from riding all day. Surely you wish to relax at home now that it is afternoon.”

  He shook his head. “It is barely just two o’clock now and by taking horses we can be there before you know it. And I am not tired. Seeing you has restored me, especially now that I know you still love me,” he reminded with a brush of his lips to her forehead. “And what can I care of being tired anyway? For in a short while I shall be lying in the g
rass inside that ring of stones next to you and searching out shapes in the clouds. What could be better than that?” He kissed her again slowly, taking his time with his tongue. “Come with me to The Nine Ladies, please, chérie?” he whispered into her ear.

  In truth he had sensed her excitement and once she had revealed it, nothing could have kept him from giving that one thing to her which he knew would please her. It would not have mattered if he were exhausted, he would still go with her, simply because it was what she wanted. His happiness was inextricably linked with hers—despite him feeling a little overwhelmed with desire to please and appease her, Imogene’s love also made him stronger. More the man he wished to be. It was contentment he felt with her. Not the concern of being crushed. And after the day he had endured, going to the ring of stones with her would be a blessed reward indeed. His mind was already working as to how he could make it a special outing for them.

  “It sounds lovely. Very well, let us go then. I must first dress in my riding clothes.”

  “Call for Hester to help you, chérie. I’ll just go down and see to our horses and will await you in the courtyard. You can meet me as soon as you are ready to go.” He bussed her cheek with a soft kiss before dashing out of the room, leaving straightaway for the kitchens to procure the necessary accoutrements for their excursion, in short order.

  WHEN Imogene stepped out into the courtyard, Graham was waiting for her as promised, looking quite smug standing by their ready horses. “What are you up to, darling? I see that look on your face. You’ve been plotting,” she teased gently.

  “Your horse awaits, my lady wife.” He bowed gallantly, indicating with his arm.

  She regarded him for a moment before shaking her head slowly back and forth. “You’re up to something—I can smell it.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “And does your keen sense of smell indicate to you whether or not you will enjoy whatever it is that I am ‘up to’?”

  She didn’t answer his question directly. “You must have been a very clever child, cunning and scheming secret surprises upon your playmates. You do have a mischievous bent, and I see now that the solemn exterior is merely a mask.”

  “My lady, I believe it is my duty to remind you that this excessive philosophizing into my childhood is doing nothing to assist you in reaching your goal for this afternoon.”

  She laughed at him but conceded that he was probably right as she approached the horse meant for her, unable to resist one last ribbing. “I reckon you used that charm and those gorgeous green eyes of yours to wheedle your way in and out of situations as you desired. Am I right, my sweetheart?”

  “Yes.” He tilted his head and widened his eyes. “And I intend to use them now to ensure that you cease and desist this blither-blathering of no account and—” he put his hands on her waist, gripping firmly, “—mount…your…horse.” Easily lifting her, he dropped her atop the waiting steed.

  She flashed him a wicked grin, leaned down so only he could hear her and whispered, “I love it when you take charge of me like that.” She spurred her horse then, and bolted off at a gallop, leaving him gawping after her in utter surprise. The sound of her laughter must have jogged him out of his shock because he recovered quickly, mounted up, and followed after her.

  When they approached the glade Graham turned to her, asking, “I have a humble request, chérie. When we dismount, I’ll need for you to turn away for a moment until I have made ready. Do you think you can do that, my darling?”

  “Of course I can do that for you,” she agreed. He dismounted first and waited with hands ready to help her down. She reached for his shoulders as he took hold of her waist and lowered her. When she was down she raised her eyes and stayed in her position, her hands remaining on his shoulders…remembering.

  “What are you thinking about, chérie?”

  “When we rode out together in those first days, I would anticipate this. The moment you would put your hands on me to assist in mounting and dismounting. The feel of your hands on me was so wonderful. I craved it. It still is…and I still do.”

  He rewarded her little speech with a long, slow kiss, before gently turning her away from the stone circle. “Give me two minutes—and no peeking.” She could hear him rustling around in the travelling pack she had seen on his horse. After a time she was aware of him standing at her back. “It is ready, my chérie.”

  She turned to see that a beautiful picnic tea had been set out upon a blanket spread in the middle of the stone circle. “It’s lovely,” she said.

  “I believe your fantasy required ‘lying down’ as a critical element. It simply would not do for the elegant Lady Rothvale to return to the stately halls of Everfell with bits of grass in her hair. What would people say?”

  “And the tea? So thoughtful of you.”

  “Well we would have missed tea-time being out riding so I thought we could have our tea here. I used my charisma and hypnotic eyes, as you’ve said, to beguile the cook into setting me up with jam tarts and flasks of tea. It turned out quite well, I think, considering I had no time at all.” He offered his arm. “Shall we?”

  They lay on their sides propped up on their elbows and faced each other, feeding bites of tart and sips of warm tea to the other between caresses and giggling laced with liberal amounts of silliness.

  “My fingers are very sticky.”

  “I have just the thing for it.” He grabbed her hand and proceeded to lick each of her fingers clean, one by one. She watched him, her eyes growing dark from the sensual picture of her fingers in his mouth. “Delectable, and very sweet,” he murmured, leaning in closer, “I see a spot of jam here at your mouth that must be seen to as well.”

  Graham proceeded to lick around the corner of her mouth with passionate attention until the welcome response from her demanded more loving treatment from him, which he was more than happy to bestow.

  TWENTY-ONE

  O! beware, my lord, of jealousy;

  It is the green-eyed monster which doth mock

  The meat it feeds on.

  William Shakespeare ~ Othello, 1602

  INSIDE the stone circle, Graham and Imogene relished the magic of the afternoon.

  “Well, that is now two remarkable teas I have enjoyed since coming to Everfell. The first, being at a gamekeeper’s cottage, and this one inside a fairy ring. Tea in the parlor will be utterly uninspiring from now on I am afraid,” Imogene joked.

  “I see your point, chérie, but we have yet to complete your vision of searching out shapes in the clouds, though.”

  “For it to happen, dear husband, there must be clouds in the sky, and as you can see the sky is quite clear this afternoon so I imagine we’ll have to save that part for another time. Perhaps we do have other unconventional teatimes yet to come.” She was quiet for some moments. “I think this is the best gift you have ever given to me.”

  “It was such a simple thing to do this.”

  “Sometimes simple is best.”

  “I am glad you are happy. It is all that I wish for, chérie. I hope you know that.” Lying together on the blanket, they played with their hands, twining and untwining their fingers, steepling them and rolling knuckles together, tracing lightly over the other’s palm, quiet and reflective for a long time. “Chérie, can you tell me what it was that upset you? What caused your vexation? As much as I am relieved to know we are recovered from last night’s disaster, I find myself unable to let it go.”

  “Nothing. It was nothing you did, Graham. It was only my emotional sensibilities getting the better of me.”

  “You are not telling me the whole truth, Imogene. I can tell. I would have the truth from you, please. I know you love me, but I also know there is something that bothered you and nothing should come between us, no matter how small you might deem it.”

  Shaking her head, she answered, “You cannot be hurt again. Don’t force me to tell you,” she begged, looking like she might cry.

  “Now I am really concerned. Tell me, Imoge
ne. You can tell me anything, chérie, even if it hurts. So be it. I trust you.”

  She was quiet for a long time before she answered him. “Last night when you, Jules, and Colin were teaching us the waltz it occurred to me, again, how you all have had past lives. You travelled, attended university, lived in Europe, and must have known many women, artist’s models and others. You may have had attachments to other women with whom you have shared intimacies.” She closed her eyes. “Though I am ashamed to say it, all in a moment I just felt so jealous of them—those other women before me—and wanted to punish you for having a past. I know that’s a ridiculous notion. I’m over my jealous fit. Truly, I am. I know how much you love me.” She regarded him solemnly. “There you have it. That is the truth, Graham.”

  He felt the stabbing pain of guilt but kept his eyes on her throughout the entirety of his response. He’d said for her to tell him even if it hurt. So it seemed he would be given that which he’d asked for. “There is one word you’ve said which is critical to this discourse. That word is ‘before.’ If I live to be a very old man, and look back upon my life, there will be one point at which to make a division…the time before you…and the time after you. The only part which will matter is the time that came after you, Imogene.”

  Graham watched her beautiful brown eyes turn glassy with tears.

  He attempted to steady his racing heart. “Before you, I had been with others, it is true. But now that you are my wife there will never be anyone after you. This I know for absolute truth. I have never had an attachment, nor been in love with a woman before you. Innocent I am not, in the ways of physical love, but that first time with you, on our wedding night, it felt like I was…innocent. It was a new experience, the first time with love in my heart. You are the first to receive my love, and the only. I am not proud of everything in my past, but regardless it cannot be undone. You’d be hard pressed to find a man of my age who has not had such experiences. But understand that I believe myself a different man after you came into my life, Imogene, and I knew it with utmost certainty as soon as I met you. I knew nothing would ever be the same for me again. Because you saved me. Your love rescued me from that other very lonely and very empty life. Remember ‘The Princess and the Toad’ story, chérie. You are the only woman I can ever love like that, all I can ever want, and all I can ever need. There is no other for me. Only you. I hope you’ll believe every word I’ve said is true because it is coming from deep inside my soul.”