by Laurel McKee
"They won't be back," Eliza said with far more confidence than she felt
"Will we have to leave Killinan?"
Eliza had thought of all that, over and over as she sat there by Will's bedside. 'Them," as Anna called Will's rescuer, had said they were taking over all of Kildare. She had thought someone as beloved as her mother would be safe to stay in her home, but now she knew that was not so. The danger increased every day for families like the Blacknalls, and they should all be away—Will, her mother, and her sisters—and she had to go with them. They were her chief responsibilities now.
"Yes. As soon as Will can go."
Chapter 21
He looks better" Katherine said, setting down a tea tray on the bedside table as she examined Will's sleeping face. In the morning sunlight streaming from the open window, he looked bronzed again, not chalk-white. His breath was even, too, deep and rhythmic.
Eliza nodded happily. "He ate a bit of breakfast, too, which is a good sign."
"Indeed. I fear I have seen too many wounds fester in hot weather like this, but William has made a remarkable recovery."
'Thanks to your nursing expertise, Mama."
"Thanks to your own tireless efforts. But I don't want you to become ill now." She poured out a cup of tea, pressing it into Eliza's hand. "Drink this. You haven't been taking enough sustenance, and you can't afford to grow any thinner."
Eliza laughed, but she did take a long sip. "I know I am quite unfashionably tall and bony, Mama. I cannot help that now."
"You look like my own mother. She was tall, too."
Katherine sat down in Anna's empty chair, watching thoughtfully as Eliza tucked the blankets around Will "You know, Eliza, I never really loved your father."
Eliza stared at her in shock. Of all the startling events of the past few days, surely her mother's sudden, calm confession was one of the most strange! Katherine Blacknall always kept her own counsel, and she never admitted she was wrong about anything at all. "Mama? How can you say that? You and Father were always most courteous to each other."
"I never said I did not like him," Katherine said. "He was a good man, a dutiful one. And I was dutiful, too. That was why I did what my parents required and married the man they chose when I was barely fifteen."
Eliza had never heard her mother speak of such things before. As far as she knew, Katherine had sprung from the earth as the dignified, reserved Angel of Kildare and had never been fifteen at all. "Did you not want to marry Father?"
"I didn't want or not want anything. I had no choice. I did what my parents had done before me—married who they were told. And it was not so very bad. Your father was kind, much better than my own rakish father, and I loved Killinan Castle from the first day I saw it It has been my home."
She paused, gazing down at the sleeping Will with unreadable eyes. "I know you will understand, Eliza, when I say your father and I had little in common. He liked to hunt and ride, simple country pleasures. He laughed at my books, my friends and parties, my amateur theatricals. We did not have much to talk of together, and there was never much... passion in the bedroom."
"Mama!" Eliza cried, feeling her cheeks burn. Even a grown woman did not want to know such things about her parents!
"I regret nothing, Eliza," Catherine said calmly. "I have my home; I have you and your sisters and brother. But I know I have never looked at a man the way you look at William Denton. And I probably never shall Time is so short, my dear. We have to discover what is really important to us."
She came around the bed to kiss Eliza's cheek and added, "Drink your tea, dearest, and get some rest. You need all your strength now, as do we all." She leaned close to Will, sliding Eliza's portrait under his hand. "I am sorry for the mistakes I made all those years ago"
Eliza stared up at her, bemused by all she had heard. It seemed that, like so much else of late, her mother had changed. But what had really wrought such a transformation?
"Mama..." she began.
"Shh," she said. "I think Will is waking. I have some things to see to downstairs. Make sure he takes his medicine again."
That would be a hard task, indeed. But she smiled at her mother and settled in to wait for Will to wake up. She did not have to wait long.
"Good morning," he muttered, opening his eyes to give her that grin that always made her heart pound. "Did I miss much when I was asleep?"
"Nothing at all, unless you count my sisters' constant arguments. They're never quiet"
"Well, then, it sounds as if you could use a mediator." Before Eliza realized what he was doing, he shoved back the bedclothes and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He rose swiftly, if a bit shakily, holding on to the bedpost His jaw clenched with the effort, but he stood straight, taking one step, then another.
"Will!" she cried. "Get right in bed this moment I won't let our hard nursing work go to waste. You need to rest at least one more day."
"I am vastly tired of resting," he insisted, almost to the door by now.
"You are a stubborn man, William Denton. But I can be more stubborn than you on your best day, so you had best not argue with me anymore." She seized his arm, and despite his protests, he swayed toward her. "Come, sit down by the window. It's a fair day, and the sunshine will do you good."
"I am better, Eliza," he said, but he did go with her to the armchair by the window, sitting down heavily on the brocade seat "I can travel; I am sure."
"Yes. Very soon." Eliza perched on the arm of the chair, resting her hand on his back. He was warm, but with life now and not fever, his muscles taut and strong under her touch. She swept aside the tangled length of his bright hair, leaning close to inhale his scent, his essence. How very close she had come to losing this.
He covered her hand with his, drawing her closer as he stared out the open window. The gardens of Killinan were magical in the summer light—lush, bright green rolling lawns with beds of brilliant yellows and reds. They wilted a bit under the heat and lack of care, but from a distance, their beauty was intact, and it seemed eternal.
Will turned his head suddenly, capturing her lips with his as he wrapped his arm around her waist pulling her down onto his lap. She tangled her fingers in his hair, feeling its silken coolness on her skin as his tongue touched hers, tasting, savoring.
Their kiss was rough, desperate, tender, full of need, full of the words they could not say. She knew his kiss, his touch, so well now, yet it seemed all new and sweet She was hungry for it, starved. She framed his face in her hands, longing for more and more, for all of him.
But she forced herself to draw away. "We shouldn't do this yet, your wound..."
"Other parts of me hurt far more," he said hoarsely.
She laughed, drawing her hands away and clambering off his lap. But she was none too steady herself, her head whirling with hot desire and need, with the ache of having been months without him in her bed.
She leaned on the windowsill, feeling the warm breeze on her damp skin. "I'm quite certain we should not be doing that yet."
"Even if I lie very still and you were on top?"
Eliza drew in a shuddering breath at the erotic image suddenly so vivid in her mind. Their naked bodies entwined as she rode him. "Even then."
"Ah, well. I see my powers of persuasion have failed with you, Eliza." He smiled ruefully, adjusting himself carefully through the thin shirt She turned her head away, trying not to stare at the hard outline of his penis under the cloth.
They were silent for a long moment the only sound the rush of their breath and the pounding of her heart in her ears.
"It was all I thought of every night while we were apart," he said, breaking the quiet Eliza tried to laugh. "Being spurred on like a wild stallion? I'm sure it was."
"Only by you, Eliza," he answered, laughing back at her. "It sounds ridiculously lustful, I know. But I would lie there in the darkness, that horrible, tense darkness, not knowing if we would be attacked at any moment, if death waited just around the corne
r. Yet none of it mattered, because I had you. I had our nights in Dublin, and I remembered every moment of them. Every kiss and touch, the way you smelled and tasted and looked The way your eyes watched me as we made love."
Eliza swallowed past the dry lump in her throat, fearful she would cry. "I remembered all that, too. I have never wanted anyone as I want you, Will. I never imagined it could be like that."
"I've missed you."
"I've missed you, too," she admitted.
Will leaned his head back against the chair, closing his eyes. "I know our reunion now is hardly ideal, Eliza. But I am grateful for it nonetheless."
"Grateful you were shot?"
"I suppose so, for it brought me to you, for a while anyway." He suddenly opened his eyes, that bright blue gaze that saw too much piercing her to the heart. "I thought I was dying there in those woods, that I would never see you again. That we are here now is a miracle. I only wish it was a miracle the other men in that patrol could share. When I think of them..." His voice broke, as if it was much too painful to say more.
A miracle, yes—but for how much longer?
Chapter 22
Eliza sat with Will as the sun sank below the horizon and darkness blanketed the gardens in an illusion of safety. She knew all too well it was only an illusion, though.
He cradled her hand in his, raising it to his lips for a tender kiss. "Come, walk with me in the garden for a while," he said, pressing her hand against his cheek.
"Are you not tired?" she answered. "You should—"
"I cannot face yet more rest. It is such a fine evening, one we may not see again for some time. Please, Eliza. I won't take you far from the house."
A time they may not see again. Eliza feared that was all too true. They had to leave Killinan right away. But she could sense what he meant, for she felt it, too—that yearning to be young and free again, just for a while. To be as they once were. "Very well, for a few minutes."
Holding hands, they made their way down the stairs and onto the stone terrace at the back of the house. The gardens were quiet under the silvery moonlight, the sparkle of the stars scattered across the dusty black sky.
The dry heat of the day had dissipated, leaving only a fresh green coolness. The only sound was the crunch of their shoes on the white gravel paths as they walked past the silent, still fountains, the looming sentinels of the topiaries, and the blank-eyed statues.
Eliza saw where he was leading her—to the enclosed garden where they parted all those years ago. The marble bench was still there, where once she sat and waited for him with all the yearning excitement of her young heart. All the foolish ideas that love would conquer all.
Love, she knew now, conquered nothing. But being near him still made her shiver.
She sat down on the bench, just as she had then, and he braced his booted foot on the marble seat beside her. He leaned his elbow on his bent knee, his hair falling forward in a golden curtain to hide his expression from her.
"Do you remember that night?" she asked. 'The night when you told me of your commission?"
"Of course I remember. You sat right there in your pretty white gown."
"And you were in your new red coat" Eliza folded her hands on her lap, thinking how very long ago that all seemed. And yet, in one of those tricks of time, it also seemed to be only yesterday. She feared she was no wiser now than she was then. "If you could talk to that Will now, what would you say to him?"
He smiled down at her. "I would tell him to purchase more mosquito netting. The islands are full of the annoying creatures."
Eliza laughed despite herself. "Is that all you would tell him?"
"Are you asking if I would warn him not to join the Army?" He sat down beside her, not touching but close.
As close as he had been before they parted that night. "I felt I had no choice then, Eliza. I wanted to make my way in the world, and it seemed the best path to do so. I had no calling to the church, no aptitude for politics or the law. The military seemed an honorable career for a younger son."
"Seemed?"
He looked at her, his eyes shadowed with pain and secrets. "I am not so sure of anything any longer. I have had to do things as my duty that were ..." His words trailed away, as if he could not bear to voice them, could not yet tell her those secrets. Just as she could not tell hers.
"I know," she said quietly. "Things have not turned out as I imagined, either. As I once foolishly hoped."
"What would you say to that past Eliza, then, if she were also here now?"
"I would tell her to kiss you and not part in anger. To cherish every moment together because life is fragile and precious."
"Would you tell her not to marry?"
Eliza laughed. "Oh, she told herself that every day! But she was young and heartbroken from first love. She let herself be guided by her family and not her own instincts. She vowed never to do that again."
"And has she kept that vow?"
"She is trying," Eliza whispered. "But it is not always easy."
Will reached over and took her hand again, twining his fingers with hers until they were palm to palm. She could feel the thrum of his pulse, the beat of his lifeblood that flowed against hers. 'Then kiss me now, Eliza. We can be that young, foolish pair again, just for a moment."
She leaned toward him, softly touching her lips to his. She closed her eyes and remembered the first time they kissed. Her heart had been pounding then, too, with excitement, fear, and the blossoming of passion.
Now she knew him, knew the taste and feel of him, the full, volcanic force of that lust between them. And also knew the dark depth of the gulf between them. They had parted twice now, and the next farewell would surely be their last. But for now she had to take her own advice— kiss him and never part in anger.
He groaned, his tongue seeking hers hungrily as that flame again soared between them. All-consuming.
He tugged her muslin bodice and thin chemise lower, baring her breasts to the cool night. Softly, enticingly, his hands skimmed over her naked shoulders and arms. His lips pressed kisses to the corner of her mouth, the line of her jaw, and her throat as her head fell back.
Eliza closed her eyes tightly, reveling in the feel of his kiss on her skin, the touch of his tongue to the sensitive spot just where her neck met her shoulder. He licked at the pulse beating frantically in the hollow of her throat, his long, skillful fingers caressing her aching nipple, tugging at it gently as it hardened under her touch.
"Will," she whispered roughly, tangling her fingers in his hair. Whether to push him away or draw him closer, she hardly knew. Her mind was wrapped in that golden haze of desire. "We should not... your wound..."
"Bother all that," he growled. "I've been waiting for too long for this, Eliza. I won't give it up now."
She had been waiting so long, too. All those lonely nights. She pulled him closer, moaning as his mouth closed over her nipple, warm and wet
His hand reached for her skirts, dragging them up until her thighs were exposed. His palm skimmed over her stockinged calf, the curve of her knee, to caress the naked skin of her thigh.
"So beautiful" he muttered, kissing her other breast, the arc of her ribs. He circled her waist with his other arm, trying to drag her onto his lap, but his breath caught painfully.
"No, Will," she whispered, backing away from him. But his arm tightened, holding her close.
"Don't go," he said, capturing her lips in a deep, frantic kiss.
"I won't hurt you," she insisted. She shook her head, trying to clear it of that mist It was very hard to do with his hand on her thigh!
"I am not hurt. I need you, Eliza." He tilted back his head, his eyes dark as he stared at her. "What about my offer to let you be on top?"
An enticing vision of riding him as if he were a sweaty stallion flashed through her mind, and she laughed. "Will, no..."
"Then you would not hurt me. I couldn't open my wound if I just lay there, could I?"
"Somehow, I
suspect you would not just lay there," she said.
"Upon my honor."
Honor surely had nothing to do with it, Eliza thought But she went along as he stood up from the bench, drawing her with him. Her clothes fell to the ground, leaving her clad only in her stockings there in the moonlight
For an instant, a strange jolt of modesty struck her. Perhaps her younger self, curious but still frightened, was haunting her. She tried to cross her arms over her chest, but he took her hands, holding them to her side as he kissed her. She opened her mouth, reveling in the hot, pure life of him. The essence of all he was, all they were together—at least in rare moments like this one, out of the world and all its terrors.
She snatched at the hem of his shirt, dragging it up over his head, leaving his chest bare to her. The bandage was stark white against his lean, bronzed flesh, and the blond, coarsely curling hair sprinkled there gleamed like gilt Fascinated, she trailed her fingertips through that hair, over his warm, damp skin. Her nail scraped lightly over his flat, pebbled nipple, and his breath caught
Her touch skimmed lower over his taut abdomen, unfastening his breeches. His penis was erect, hot velvet over iron under her caress. A tiny drop of moisture glistened at its tip, and she spread it along his taut length.
"Eliza," he growled. Seizing her around the waist, he drew both of them down to the soft, green grass. True to his word, he fell onto his back, letting her straddle his hips.
She shook her hair free of its pins, leaning down to kiss him hungrily as the dark strands fell around them in a concealing curtain. She braced her hands to either side of him, rising above him, drawing her damp cleft along his length as he groaned against her lips.
"Eliza!" he whispered. He reached for her hips as if to roll her beneath him, but she arched away.
"You promised," she said. "Just lie there, sir."
She reached between them, guiding him inside of her as she slowly lowered herself. The slide of him against her sensitive, swollen tissues was utterly delicious. It had been so long, so long... She threw back her head, closing her eyes to concentrate on every sensation as she found her rhythm, as they learned each other again.
