Redemption of a Fallen Woman

by Joanna Fulford

  ‘Madre mia! I feared we had lost you,’ said Concha.

  ‘I thought so myself for a while,’ replied Elena, shuddering.

  ‘You look awful. Ghastly pale.’

  Jack frowned. ‘We’d best get you in t’warm, my lady.’

  ‘My thought exactly,’ said Harry.

  ‘Next town’s not far off. According t’map, it’s not above a mile up t’road.’

  Harry nodded, privately thanking heaven that they weren’t stuck in the middle of nowhere. ‘Right, we’ll go there at once.’

  With the aid of his arm Elena staggered to her horse, feeling very cold and uncharacteristically shaky. The thought of another ride was distinctly unappealing, but there was no choice about that now. She eyed her mount with misgivings; somehow it seemed a lot bigger than it had before, its back much further away. In the event she was spared the trouble of mounting. Assessing the situation with complete accuracy, Harry picked her up and she experienced a brief sensation of weightlessness as he tossed her lightly into the saddle. Then, keeping a firm hold on her reins, he remounted his own horse and they set off.

  Fortunately, Jack was right: it wasn’t very far at all to town. He and Concha lost no time in locating an inn and bespeaking rooms. The place was unpretentious but it was clean. Harry lifted Elena off her horse and carried her indoors, firing off a series of instructions to the startled patrón as he went. Within a relatively short time Elena found herself in a spacious private chamber in front of a cheerful fire. Harry set her down and surveyed her critically.

  ‘We need to get you out of those wet things.’

  ‘You’re wet too.’

  ‘I’ll worry about that presently. Right now I’m more concerned about you.’ He stepped closer and unfastened her jacket, dragging it off her shoulders. Then he sat her in a chair and bent down to pull off her boots.

  ‘Can you manage the rest?’

  She nodded dumbly.

  ‘Good.’ He handed her a couple of linen towels. ‘You’ll need these.’

  Leaving her to get on with it he began to peel off his own wet clothing. Elena struggled out of her sodden breeches and then glanced round. Harry had his back to her so she pulled off her shirt and, with fumbling fingers, wrapped the first linen sheet around herself. Then she turned towards the fire again and began to dry her hair with the other while he finished undressing. He stripped and fastened a towel around his waist. The sight of that hard-muscled body sent a tremor through her that had nothing whatever to do with cold.

  Unaware of the inner turmoil he was causing, he set to, draping their wet clothing over chairs to dry in front of the hearth. When he had done that he straightened and turned towards her, regarding her critically. Under that penetrating stare Elena felt suddenly self-conscious.

  ‘I look like a drowned rat, don’t I?’

  ‘Not the expression I was going to use,’ he replied. ‘But you still look mighty pale, my sweet.’

  ‘Do I?’

  ‘You’ll feel better with some hot food inside you. Shall you object to dining in here?’

  She returned a wry smile. ‘I think it would be best under the circumstances.’

  He grinned. ‘So do I. The sight of you like that would cause a local scandal.’

  She thought that the same could be said of him, but ventured no reply.

  He went to the door and summoned Jack, who had been loitering in the corridor for the purpose, and sent him off for some food and a jug of mulled wine. A short time later the servant returned with the wine and the intelligence that the food would follow. Harry relieved him of the jug and goblets and, after delivering an injunction to take himself off and find something to eat, bade him farewell and shut the door. Then he poured two generous measures of wine and handed one to Elena.

  ‘Drink this. It’ll warm you.’

  The wine was sweet and fragrant with cloves and cinnamon. She took a sip and swallowed, feeling the hot liquor carving a path all the way to her stomach. It was also dangerously heady, rather like the man opposite. Slowly the combination of inner and outer warmth began to take effect with a painful tingling in her hands and feet.

  Seeing some of the colour return to her face Harry felt more reassured. It had been no lie when he said she’d given him some anxious moments earlier. His heart had been in his mouth. For a little while he’d really feared he might not find her. The thought of the alternative turned him a lot colder than the river ever had. In that moment he truly understood how much she meant to him. He also knew he wasn’t going to fail her as he’d failed Belén.

  A discreet knock distracted him. When he opened the door this time it was to see Concha bearing a large tray. On witnessing Harry in such a state of undress her eyes widened. She shot a swift glance past him to Elena and, on seeing her mistress in like case, sent a conspiratorial smile that way. Then she handed over the tray and left them.

  Harry pulled the table closer to the fire and laid two places. Then he set out the dishes and drew up two chairs. The tray bore a tureen full of rich and savoury stew. It was accompanied by a loaf of fresh bread. It was a simple meal but it tasted delicious and they ate hungrily. Gradually the chill receded and was replaced by contented warmth. Afterwards they lingered over the rest of the spiced wine. Harry leaned back in his chair, surveying her over the rim of his cup.

  ‘Better?’

  ‘Very much better,’ she replied.

  ‘You look it.’ It was an understatement, he thought. Her colour had returned and, now that her hair had dried, an unruly mass of dark curls tumbled over her bare shoulders. The linen towel clung to the contours of her figure and, since it finished just above her knees, left a pleasing amount of shapely leg on view.

  Aware of his scrutiny to the last atom of her being, she realised that she should have felt embarrassed or ashamed, but she didn’t. Those feelings were long gone. When Harry looked at her it engendered a very different sensation.

  ‘Thanks to you,’ she replied. ‘It’s thanks to you that I’m here at all.’

  ‘I beg you will not mention it.’

  ‘Not mention it?’ She regarded him incredulously. ‘You saved my life, Harry, and risked your own to do it.’

  His gaze locked with hers. ‘You are too precious to lose. I did not know how precious until that moment.’

  With an effort she managed to keep her voice level. ‘You don’t know how much it means to hear you say that.’

  His heart performed an unusual and risky manoeuvre. He hesitated, fearing to ask the next question but knowing he was going to anyway. ‘Then am I to understand that the sentiment is returned?’

  ‘Yes, it is returned. I wanted to tell you before but, in view of what had happened, I didn’t know how.’ She rose from her chair and moved round to his side of the table. Taking his face in her hands she bent and kissed him. ‘It took an icy bath in the river to bring me to my senses.’

  Harry put an arm about her waist and drew her on to his lap. ‘I think I am the one who needed bringing to my senses.’

  Her arms slid around his neck and she kissed him again, gently at first, then more deeply. He tasted of wine and cloves and cinnamon, a combination that was exciting and erotic. His tongue flirted with hers, inviting and getting a like response. She pressed closer, breathing his scent, revelling in the touch of his skin beneath her hands and the play of muscles across his shoulders. As she moved, the towel slipped a little. Strong warm hands caressed her back and shoulders. The towel slipped further, uncovering her breasts and, as flesh met flesh, the kiss became passionate.

  Eventually Harry drew back a little, heart pounding, and his gaze locked with hers. ‘If this doesn’t stop now, my sweet, it isn’t going to stop at all.’

  ‘I don’t want it to stop.’

  For a moment he wasn’t sure if he’d heard aright but the expression in those dark eyes held an unmistakable invitation. ‘Are you quite sure about this, Elena?’

  ‘Yes, I’m sure.’

  He scooped
her up and carried her across to the bed. Kneeling on the mattress he drew her to her knees in front of him, letting his hands ride her waist, pulling her closer. His mouth brushed hers, light, teasing, then gradually more insistent. He wanted her so badly it hurt, but he had no intention of hurrying this. Nor did he intend to make any demands. It was solely about giving her all possible pleasure. Thus his exploration of her body was leisurely and thorough, every caress designed to arouse and increase desire. His lips moved from her mouth to her cheek and thence to the lobe of her ear. He nibbled lightly, sending a delicious shiver the length of her, but what she felt now was increasing excitement, not fear.

  He resumed, moving lower, kissing her neck and throat and then her breasts. Recalling her response the last time he’d done this he took a soft peak in his mouth, teasing gently. He heard her gasp, saw the rosy flush that bloomed along her skin. He unfastened the towel and discarded it along with his own. Then he resumed, sliding a hand down her back to her hips and buttocks. The other caressed her belly, moving thence to the secret place between her thighs. Very gently he found what he was seeking and stroked.

  Heat flooded her pelvis and deep within it a coil of tension formed and grew. As he continued stroking the sensation intensified producing slick wetness. Blood became fire. She shuddered, arching towards him, carried on a shock wave of exquisite pleasure. It was followed by another and another.

  ‘Heavens! Harry, please...’

  Slowly he lowered himself on to his back. ‘Sit astride me, Elena.’

  Her eyes widened in brief astonishment but she moved to obey nonetheless. As she straddled him he slid into her. She caught her breath, her entire body resonating with him, wanting this, revelling in the feel of him inside her. Instinctively she moved with him, in a slow delicious rhythm. Gradually, the rhythm increased and he moved deeper, but there was no pain and no fear, only increasing delight.

  Harry smiled and received an answering smile in return. He knew then he’d been right. This time she was with him, part of him. Her beautiful eyes were dark with passion, their expression not of terror now but ecstasy. His hold on her hips grew stronger and pulled her down, thrusting harder. He heard her gasp, felt her body arch and quiver. Then he let go of his restraint and joined her in a final shuddering climax. Breathless now he slumped back on the bed, his heart thumping against his ribs. He had expected to enjoy the experience but the intensity of it took him by surprise. She had possessed him body and soul.

  ‘That was incredible.’

  She smiled and leaned down to kiss him. ‘Yes, it was. More than I ever imagined it could be. Thank you.’ She paused. ‘How did you know to do this?’

  ‘When you panicked before it was because I was pinning you down. It was a stupid mistake and one I didn’t want to repeat. I guessed that if you didn’t feel trapped you’d enjoy it a lot more.’

  ‘You were right, on both counts.’

  ‘I’m glad. I never want you to feel frightened of me again.’

  ‘I didn’t trust you enough and I’m sorry for it.’

  ‘How should you have trusted me? You had only nightmare experience to judge by, and I was thoughtless enough to remind you of it.’

  ‘I shall not be afraid now.’

  ‘Indeed I hope not.’ He paused, regarding her quizzically. ‘Do you mean to stay there, my sweet? I’m not complaining, of course, but I’d rather like to hold you.’

  She grinned and came to lie down beside him. He drew the coverlet over them and pulled her close, sharing his warmth. Elena rested her head on his shoulder. It was reassuring and dependable like the steady rhythm of his heartbeat under her hand. With a small sigh of contentment she closed her eyes and smiled. She was truly his wife now and he had made her a woman again. While he hadn’t actually said that he loved her, his actions today showed that he did care. It was enough for now.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Later they rose and dressed. Elena donned one of her muslin gowns. It was a little creased from the saddlebag but, having been on one of the pack horses, it was at least dry. Then she combed her hair and arranged it in a simple knot. Scanning her reflection in the mirror she thought the result was a vast improvement on the bedraggled creature she had been only a few hours ago.

  Harry appeared over her shoulder. He slid his arms around her waist and dropped a kiss in the hollow of her neck. The touch set her skin tingling. She smiled and turned round, twining her arms around his neck. Then she kissed him back.

  He looked into her face. ‘Have you any idea what a bewitching creature you are?’

  ‘If you want to tell me I’m prepared to listen.’

  ‘I’d rather show you than tell you.’ A more lingering kiss followed this. Then he drew back again. ‘I wanted to do that the very first time I set eyes on you, but I didn’t dare. Of course, I was thinking of you as a would-be nun at the time.’

  ‘I hope you are over that misapprehension.’

  ‘The extent of the error is now clear to me.’

  ‘I’m glad of that.’

  ‘I was happy to be corrected.’ He glanced over her shoulder towards the window. ‘It seems to have stopped raining at last. Would you care for a walk? We should be in time to join the evening paseo.’

  ‘The paseo would be lovely.’

  Just then he could have suggested that they clean all the muddy tack or muck out the stables. It wouldn’t have mattered as long as they were together. After so many years of independence the extent of her neediness now took her unawares, like the deep-seated emotion she felt for this man. She didn’t know when she had begun to love Harry, only that she did. It was no young girl’s infatuation this time, but a lifelong passion. To lose him would be to lose a part of herself.

  They strolled in companionable silence for a while, enjoying the relative novelty of a dry evening. The air was clear, scrubbed clean of haze and smelling pleasantly of wet earth and vegetation and wood smoke. The light was fading now and, when they reached the local plaza, lanterns had already been lit. As Harry had predicted the cessation of the rain had brought others out of doors for the customary evening stroll. Above them the sinking sun laced the clouds with streaks of red and gold. Harry eyed it with increasing optimism.

  ‘I think this might well clear by morning.’ He paused. ‘Will you be strong enough to resume the journey by then?’

  Elena smiled. ‘I shall be quite able to do so.’

  ‘Are you sure? It won’t matter if you want to leave it a little longer.’

  ‘What matters is to reach Cádiz and find Sanchez.’

  ‘All the same,’ he said, ‘you’ve had a nasty experience.’

  ‘Thanks to you it wasn’t much worse.’

  ‘I once failed two people who trusted me. I’ll not let that happen again.’

  Elena looked up quickly. ‘What happened to Belén was not your fault, Harry.’ She took a deep breath. ‘Nor was Captain Radcliffe’s death.’

  It stopped him in his tracks and, drawing her aside, he fixed her with a piercing stare. ‘What do you know of Radcliffe?’

  Her heart began to thump. Had she ruined everything with yet another inappropriate remark? It was too late to retract it now. The only way was forwards. With a calm she was far from feeling, she met his eye.

  ‘Jack told me what happened.’

  ‘Did he indeed?’

  ‘You must not be angry with him—it was I who solicited for answers.’ She paused. ‘After you told me about Badajoz I guessed there were still things that had been left unsaid.’

  ‘With good reason.’

  ‘I wanted to understand and Jack was the key.’

  ‘Jack only knows part of the truth.’

  Her gaze met and held his. ‘He told me that you risked your own life to try and save your friend. There’s nothing shameful in that.’

  ‘It was not enough.’

  ‘The odds were overwhelming and those men were crazy with drink and bloodlust.’ She shuddered. ‘Nothing would have stopped
them. I was there, Harry, and I know this for truth. It was the stuff of nightmares.’

  He paused. ‘Do you still dream about it?’

  ‘Sometimes.’

  ‘I did not understand the meaning of nightmare until Badajoz.’

  ‘It was a miracle that those men did not kill you too.’

  ‘But for Jack they would have done. For a long time I wished they had.’ He let out a ragged breath. ‘John Radcliffe was a fine officer and one of the most decent men I ever met. I was privileged to know him and to be numbered among his friends.’

  ‘If he was all you say, he would not wish you to carry a burden of blame for what happened.’

  ‘Even so...’

  ‘What if things had been the other way round? Would you have blamed him?’

  ‘Of course not.’

  ‘Well, then, why do you continue to blame yourself?’

  ‘Radcliffe’s death is the least of my guilt,’ he replied.

  ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘I know you don’t.’

  His expression sent a chill through her, but having come so far she was not prepared to duck the issue any more. Too much depended on it. ‘I want to, Harry.’

  ‘I warn you now, it isn’t pretty.’

  Her gaze burned into his. ‘The past isn’t pretty? No one knows that better than I, but if you want us to have the future you spoke of, we have to face the truth no matter how ugly it is.’

  For a long moment he was silent. Then he nodded slowly. ‘All right.’

  Elena waited, her eyes never wavering from his.

  ‘The shock of Radcliffe’s murder was profound, yet by the end of that night what I felt was not grief. It was bitter resentment. He was the reason I could not save Belén. If I had gone straight to the house I might have got her out, but as those brutes attacked him, he called out my name, you see.’ He swallowed hard. ‘So I stopped to help him.’

  ‘You could not have done anything else. You could not leave your friend to die.’