by Bree Wolf
“I am quite relieved that we met here tonight, for I happened to overhear a conversation at the Baron’s gathering today that sparked my concern.” Taking another sip, he watched her face.
Although nothing much changed − neither did her eyes widen nor her mouth drop open − Graham couldn’t help but suspect that she was not ignorant of the rumour that seemed to be circulating at present.
“What is it, my lord?”
Clearing his throat, Graham rushed on as his muscles tightened around the hot cup in his hands. “People are beginning to suspect − and I suppose you know how idle gossip can grow out of control − that,” again he cleared his throat, forcing his gaze to remain on her face instead of dropping down to the hot liquid slowly burning his skin, “you are unable to provide me with an heir.”
Whatever he had expected her reaction to be − shame, embarrassment, anger, hurt − the simple shrug that moved her shoulders before she took another slow sip from her cup rattled him to his core.
Swallowing the sweet liquid, she turned her eyes to him. “And what is your concern, my lord? Do you wish for an heir? A child of your own blood?”
Shocked at her boldness, Graham searched her face. Neither anger nor resentment shone in her brown eyes as they looked at him with nothing but the desire to know the truth. That Graham could understand. Relinquishing his tight grip on the hot cup, Graham leaned back in his chair. “Would you agree that, if nothing else, there should always be honesty between us? No matter what the issue?” He hadn’t known he would ask that question; his heart had loosened his tongue, bypassing his mind for approval. But once out, he felt relieved. He had to know.
At his words, the ghost of a smile curled up her lips before she lifted her cup once more to take a small sip. “Honesty,” she mused. “Yes, honesty is never a wrong road to take.” A full smile lit up her features. “Honesty, then.”
He nodded as his shoulders relaxed. Somehow this small word had set the foundation for a bridge that could one day span the abyss still gaping between them. “Then, to be honest, I do want an heir, yes. Someone to carry on my name, my family’s name. Someone I can trust to take care of Westmore and its people.” As their eyes connected across the table, Graham saw no need to hold back. She was his wife, and he knew she would understand. “But Georgiana is my child in every way. I know that now.” Her eyes lit up like the stars at night. “I know I cannot pass on my title to her. But if she were a boy, I would have no regrets about her carrying on my family’s legacy. My blood or not, she is my child. A wonderful child.” He shook his head as a tinge of heat crept up his cheeks. “I’d forgotten how lucky I was to be her father. I will never forget again. I promise.”
Setting the cup down on the table, her hands still curled around it, seeking its warmth. His wife leaned forward as though wishing to be closer to him. If he reached out, he could touch her hand; but he held back, knowing that rushing her could destroy the fragile connection they had formed in the past few minutes.
“Nothing pleases me more than hearing you say this.” Her smile lit up the room more than the two small candles standing on the table ever could. “But, do you mind if I ask what brought on this sudden change of mind?”
A shy smile dancing across his face, he averted his eyes. “I apologize for this thick skull of mine. You tried to make me see the truth time and time again, and I snapped at you. Again, I apologize. To tell you the truth,” he looked up and found her eyes on him, not judging, just observing, “I am not entirely certain when it happened. But I remember seeing the anguish on my friend’s face as he looked at her, his own flesh and blood, and yet, she could never be his. It broke my heart, and I realized how lucky I was to be the one who gets to rear her, see her every day, and have her call me ‘Father’.” Another radiant smile lit up her face, and struck by her beauty, Graham couldn’t help but stare. Seeing her avert her eyes and fidget in her chair as though embarrassed, he shook his head, trying to clear it of the improper thoughts that had occupied it. “I apologize,” he mumbled, realizing that his voice had to sound like an echo to her, considering how often he had apologized since they sat down at the table.
For a moment silence hung in the air, and Graham could feel their connection slowly slipping from his grasp. Terrified of losing what he had only just found, he said, “Although you never held her as a baby, you loved her right away, didn’t you?”
Another smile stripped all embarrassment from her features. “I did. I cannot explain it, but she captured my heart.” For a second her eyes drifted upward, became distant, and the dreamy look on her face told him that the memories she was replaying in her mind were among the dearest she possessed. Then her gaze returned to him. “I was always surprised to see you ignore her with such vehemence, but I know now that you were only desperate to protect yourself, your own heart.”
Once again he found himself staring at her. Did she really understand him? How he had struggled? Did she really not hold his actions against him anymore? Looking into her eyes told him that she truly did not. Amazed at her compassion, he realized that they had strayed off topic a little. Clearing his throat, he said, “I am sorry for bringing up this topic again, but I need to be certain of your feelings on the matter.” He swallowed. “Even though you love Georgiana the way you do, the way every mother would love her child, do you wish for a child of your own? A child you yourself deliver into this world?” Again he swallowed, afraid of her answer.
For a long while she looked into her empty cup as though hoping to find the answer to his question in there. Feeling his heart beat against his ribs, he watched her. Would she be repulsed by his suggestion? Would she even contemplate sharing his bed if it meant for her to have a child of her own? Would it be enough of an incentive?
When she looked up, he found neither disgust nor repulsion in her eyes and breathed a sigh of relief.
“My lord, I promised you honesty, and honest I will be.” His heart skipped a beat, and for a second he was afraid it wouldn’t start up again. “If you truly wish for an heir, I will not refuse you.” Graham cringed, hearing the sense of duty ring in her voice. “While I do not feel the need for more children, I would welcome them. However, if you ask my feelings on the matter, I would prefer to leave duty and obligation out of it.” She rose from her chair, and he hastened to follow. As she stepped toward him, her dark eyes gazed into his. “Should you ever decide to visit my chamber,” she whispered, her warm breath teasing his resolve to keep his distance, “then let it be because of desire, not obligation.” For a moment, she just stood before him, looking into his eyes as though words were unnecessary for what she wanted to communicate.
His eyes slid from hers down to her mouth, tracing the line of her lips. However, before he could make up his mind to kiss her, she turned around and without a look back left the kitchen, her footsteps echoing down the corridor.
More than anything he wanted to follow her, but his feet wouldn’t move.
Chapter Forty-One - Return to the Willow Tree
As fast as her feet would carry her, Rosabel walked down the hall. Would he follow her? His face had looked fairly shocked at hearing her words. She herself had been, too, still wondering how she could have been so bold. Her cheeks still felt hot when she entered her room. Shutting the door behind her, she leaned against it and closed her eyes. How could she have spoken to him like that? She desperately hoped he did not think her an improper wife now! Had she just lost what little affection might have developed on his part?
Her mind still spinning with all the possible consequences of her lack of self-control, Rosabel retired. However, sleep proved elusive as her eyes refused to stray from the door, hoping for, and yet, dreading it to open and reveal in its frame the one man who held her heart.
Minutes ticked by, then hours. But nothing. No footsteps. No knock on her door.
As exhaustion weighed heavily on Rosabel’s tired limbs, her eyelids closed again and again as her mind lost control of them. Before long sh
e drifted off into a fitful sleep, still unable to let rest the issues that already plagued her during the day.
Morning came too soon and with it a return of her flushed cheeks whenever her mind recalled the previous night. Only sheer willpower forced her down the stairs and into the breakfast parlour. Would his eyes be cold when he looked at her? Rosabel cringed, and an involuntary shiver seized her small frame.
As the footman pulled open the doors, Rosabel took a deep breath and consciously raised her chin.
“Good morning,” Georgiana’s cheerful voice greeted her, and for a moment, Rosabel allowed herself to bath in the sight of the little girl before her eyes strayed to her husband.
Seated in his usual spot, he turned his head, and when their eyes met, Rosabel breathed a sigh of relief. His eyes were anything but cold! They were warm and glowing as though the sun shone through them. The hint of a smile danced on his features before he returned his gaze to Georgiana.
For a moment Rosabel hesitated. Had her eyes deceived her? Had his cheeks turned a shade of crimson just then? The same as the flush that still burned in hers?
Taking her seat, Rosabel kept glancing at her husband from under her eyelashes, trying to interpret the many nuances that changed his handsome face as he conversed with Georgiana. Occasionally, she caught him glancing in her direction, which instantly resulted in more heat lighting up her cheeks. The flame of embarrassment burned hot, and Rosabel wished she could flee the room and not have her emotions so plainly visible for all the world to see.
When breakfast ended, and Rosabel had barely eaten a morsel, Georgiana dragged her husband out the door to the stables. A new foal had been born during the night, and she insisted on seeing it without delay. As they rushed by her, Rosabel stepped aside, and yet, the back of his hand brushed against her fingers.
A jolt went through her body, and her head snapped up.
Before he disappeared through the double doors, Rosabel thought she’d seen a smile as he looked back at her. A smile that lit up his eyes. A smile that touched her heart. A smile she had seen before when he had gazed at his daughter, and Rosabel had realized how much he loved her. Had that smile really been meant for her?
Over the next few days, they stole hidden glances at one another. Whenever one caught the other’s stare, they would avert their eyes and almost run from the room. Although Rosabel recognized her own insecure behaviour in his, she wondered if his reaction to her was of a positive nature as she hoped or if she was merely deceiving herself. All objectivity left her the moment his deep blue eyes found hers. Instantly, her heart would speed up and her palms became moist. Under different circumstances, Rosabel would have worried about her current state of health.
The following Thursday started out as every other day. However, during mid-morning, Rosabel turned a corner and almost collided with her husband.
Both trying to step out of the other’s way, they ended up swaying for balance, and Rosabel felt strong hands grab a hold of her upper arms, steadying her. As she looked up at him, the by now familiar heat rose to her cheeks when she found his blue eyes glowing with…was that affection?
Rosabel shook her head, hoping to see more clearly.
“Would you like to accompany me on a horseback ride this afternoon?” His velvety voice resonated in her ears, and she leaned into him, his strong arms still holding her upright. “Or do you need rest?” A slight frown appeared on his forehead as he searched her face.
Trying to find her voice, Rosabel shook her head. “No, I’m fine.” A weak smile pulled up the corners of her mouth, and she desperately hoped it looked reassuring. “I would love to go riding with you.”
At her words, his eyes lit up, and a face-splitting grin contorted his handsome features. “Wonderful.” Realizing that he was still holding her, he cleared his throat, stepping back.
Again, Rosabel thought to detect a hint of crimson colouring his cheeks.
***
As they raced across the fields, heading toward the tree line, Graham felt guilty for the break-neck speed he forced on her. However, after a few painful minutes of awkward silence, he couldn’t help himself. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw her follow on Winter, leaning forward as though whispering into the mare’s ear. She held herself well, and Graham was pleased to find her an accomplished rider.
Once they entered the forest, Graham realized his mistake. Instantly, the horses slowed down to manoeuvre the uneven terrain, carefully picking their way through the thick underbrush and around tree stumps.
His wife, however, remained silent, eyes gliding over her surroundings as though what she saw was completely new to her.
Silence lingered like a heavy fog.
Graham did not know how much time had passed when his wife’s voice reached his ears. “Is there a reason you bring me here?”
Frowning, he turned to her. “What do you mean?”
In answer, her eyes travelled past him, looking over his shoulder. As Graham turned around to see what had caught her attention, the blood froze in his veins.
How could he have made such a mistake?
Down the slope, he spotted the lonely willow tree standing in the open meadow beyond the tree line. The tree that had seen the worst of him. The tree that she had sought shelter under from the pouring rain. The tree that had not kept him at bay.
Raking his fingers through his hair, Graham did not know what to do. Ought they turn back? Or continue on? Would she not demand an explanation either way? And even if she didn’t, was the day not ruined by the memories the sight of the lonely tree conjured before their eyes? And what about the days that would follow? What would today’s effect be on them?
However, before Graham could make up his mind, Rosabel guided Winter past him. The horse trotted down the small slope heading straight for the willow tree standing in the middle of the meadow like a lonely sentinel.
While he still stared at her slowly receding back, a thick drop of rain landed squarely on his forehead. Blinking, he wiped it away and only just then noticed the dark clouds covering the formerly blue sky. Individual drops came crashing toward the earth here and there as he urged Storm on, following after his wife. All the while, he couldn’t help but wonder if this was some kind of cruel game. What were the chances of another downpour just when they accidentally stumbled upon the sight of their deepest rift once more?
Following his wife’s example, Graham tied his stallion to a low-hanging branch. Then he turned to face her.
As the rain grew heavier, drawing a thick curtain around them, almost cutting them off from the rest of the world, she stood with her back resting against the willow’s enormous trunk, eyes glowing in awe. For a moment, her head rolled back against the rough tree bark, and she closed her eyes, inhaling deeply through her nose, absorbing the fresh aroma of wet grass.
Wondering how she could be so at peace, Graham drew nearer.
When his boots squished on a patch of muddy ground, her eyes opened and found his.
Stopping in his tracks, Graham froze. Ought he to turn and leave? Assure her that he was no threat to her any longer?
“You should come closer to the trunk,” she spoke above the drumming of water droplets around them, “or you will get soaked through before you know it.”
As though her words were his command, his feet continued their way through the high grass. Afraid of what he might see if he looked into her eyes, Graham stopped beside her and turned to rest his back against the trunk as well. Side by side, they stared out into the rain, each dwelling on their own fears.
“I love the smell of rain,” she whispered into the silence that hung between them, eyes still staring at the curtain of streaming water encircling them. “It smells of new beginnings, of possibilities and new days to come.”
More than her words themselves, it was the echo of hope in her voice that made Graham turn. Searching her face as she shifted her glowing eyes to him, he saw neither fear nor resentment. Could it be that she did not fear him?
That he did not repulse her? Had this place not conjured most unpleasant memories for her?
Again he looked at her, and again he found a peaceful glow on her features, lips curled up into a shy smile as her eyes glided over him for barely a second before returning to the rain. Memories tickled his mind, and for the first time he recognized the slight tremble in her frame, the delicate smile and the flittering eyes for what they really were.
A young woman falling in love, afraid to have her feelings rejected.
As the huge boulder that had held down his heart for countless years slowly lifted and disappeared into thin air, the corners of his mouth drew up into a face-splitting smile. Relief flooded his body. He had never felt so light, so weightless, like nothing could touch him.
Nothing but her.
Reaching out, he took her hands in his, feeling the slight tremble as his fingers touched her skin. She felt warm, welcoming, and did not withdraw her hands. Yet, Graham needed to be sure. “Do you mind?” he whispered, gazing into her dark eyes.
As she shook her head, he took a step closer, feeling the warmth of her breath touch his cheek, sending shivers down his back. Mesmerized he watched a single raindrop roll down the side of her temple, for a second pooling in the corner of her eye as though masquerading as a tear. Slowly it grew heavier until it spilled down her cheek, running all the way to the corner of her mouth. There it lingered, until the tip of her tongue snaked out drawing it within.
A strangled moan escaped him, and he had to force himself to focus. His eyes still lingered on her lips, unable to abandon their post.
Slipping his arms around her waist, he drew her closer, his gaze finally returning to her eyes. She trembled in his arms, drawing in a sharp breath, but didn’t push him away.
Licking his own lips, Graham swallowed. “May I steal a kiss?”
