“Then I give you permission to take your leave, as I am about to rest.”
She curtsied. “I will wait outside should you need me.”
Cara began to protest, but stopped herself, not wishing to create any disruptions for the girl. “Thank you,” she replied, and realized it was going to take her some time to get used to being waited on at every turn.
Once she was alone, she explored her chambers, testing out the luxuriously thick mattress, big enough, she was certain, for five people. Cara plucked at her dusty clothes, wanting to change into one of the lovely gowns that hung in her wardrobe. But she dared not do so before her bath. She lifted back the heavy red drape and looked below at the bustling courtyard full of horses, footmen and peasants, all crisscrossing paths, going about their chores. She leaned her head against the cool window glass. In a few days it would be Beltane—and her wedding day. It had been at Gregory’s insistence, as that was the day he’d first seen her.
Her eye caught sight of a lone man, his stride determined, his face obscured partially by the courtyard shadows. There was something familiar about him, about the unruly wave of his wheat-colored hair hanging to his shoulders.
The air was sucked from her lungs as she studied his purposeful gait. As he paused at the door and looked up, a shaft of afternoon sunlight swept across his face. Her heart stilled.
Edmund.
Cara grabbed the edge of the curtain and moved quickly away from the window. She couldn’t breathe. Her mind launched into a flight of questions. Why would he come back now? A squeak of laughter bubbled from her throat. Why wouldn’t he? Of course he’d been invited to the wedding; that only made sense. But why was he not in his vestment robes? Surely by now he’d have taken the first of his vows. Cara pushed open her chamber door, startling the young servant dozing in a chair outside the room.
“Milady, I will accompany you—wait!” the girl called after her. But Cara did not slow down. If anything, she quickened her pace, pushed by a nameless force. She hurried down the wide marble steps, being careful not to stumble as she navigated the many stairs. At the bottom, she searched right and left, unsure of which way to turn. The maidservant, out of breath now, appeared at her side, her hand clutching the curved gold rail.
“Which way to the entrance from the courtyard?” Cara asked, taking the girl by the shoulders.
She looked at Cara as though registering her request, then pointed her finger to the left, down a long hall with an arched, vaulted ceiling.
“Take me there,” Cara ordered, hoping the urgency of her request didn’t border on desperate. She took the girl’s arm and fairly dragged her down the hall.
“No, milady, this way.” The girl tugged at Cara, causing her to lose her footing on the slick tile.
“There now, be careful….”
Strong, capable hands caught her and kept her from taking a nasty spill. She looked up, her eyes meeting a familiar pair of gray-green eyes the color of a stormy sea.
“Cara?” Edmund spoke her name in a whisper.
She could not respond. Her tongue would not permit it and her brain had not a rational offering.
“What are you…why are you here?” he asked, and then it didn’t matter why. He smiled, and joy crept into his eyes.
“Ah, finally! Edmund, my dear friend!” Gregory’s voice boomed across the hall. “I had hoped to present the news more formally at dinner this evening, but since you have already been reacquainted, allow me to introduce you to my betrothed. Cara and I are to be married on Beltane. Fitting, would you not agree?”
Edmund’s face fell as his eyes turned to Cara. She saw him swallow hard, recovering from the obvious shock. Gregory had not told him whom he was to marry. Edmund forced a bright smile and bowed, kissing the back of her hand. “My sincere prayers for your complete happiness, milady.”
Gregory brushed by her, grabbing Edmund in a show of brotherly affection. Cara stood by, silently observing the two friends, curious why Gregory would not have mentioned her name. Edmund’s eyes rose to hers over Gregory’s shoulder. A flash of hurt slid across his face before he pulled back and held Gregory at arm’s length, offering a sincere smile. “Congratulations, my friend. I wish you all of God’s richest blessings.”
Gregory laughed and slapped Edmund on the back. He placed one arm around his shoulder and drew Cara toward him with the other.
“Together again, after all these years and—” he laughed, punching Edmund playfully “—who has the girl now? What is it you once said, my dear? We make our own fate.” He uttered a happy sigh. “It is good to have you home, my friend.” He looked from one to the other. “Now, I must check on Father and see to a few last minute arrangements for the celebration tonight. You’ll stay, won’t you, and dine with us?”
Edmund shot Cara a quick glance. “I’m afraid I’ve other plans.”
“Nonsense, change them. Your father has already agreed to stay. I insist.” He hugged Cara to his side. “Don’t you agree, my dear, that Edmund should join us for our family celebration?”
Cara felt nauseous, but forced a smile and nodded.
“Then it is settled.” Gregory started down the hall.
“Perhaps I may be of some service?” Edmund called after him.
“Still taking care of the needs of others? Bless you, my friend. Perhaps later. For now, I will show you where you can freshen up before supper.” Gregory snapped his fingers, gaining the attention of Cara’s maidservant. “Take my beautiful bride to her chambers, where she might ready herself for the evening.”
The servant curtsied and waited patiently for Cara.
This was not how she’d imagined their reunion would be. Cara wanted desperately to speak with Edmund, to see how he had fared all these years, to ask him the one question that she’d been carrying, buried deep in her heart. But was it wise now to even bother dredging up the past? She gave thought to these questions, deciding that despite everything, he should know at least that he had a daughter. One day, when Moyran noticed she was different from her brother and sisters, she would ask questions, perhaps wish to meet her father.
Cara allowed herself to be returned to her chambers. She sat at the writing desk and penned a simple note. She folded it carefully, tied it with a ribbon and tucked it in her maidservant’s hand. “See to it that you deliver this in private to Mr. Collier. Be quick and stop for no one.” She paced the floor, hoping the girl would loyally perform what she’d asked.
Finally, Cara lay down to nap, but found sleep eluded her. She was restless, with images of her and Edmund and the passionate night they’d shared. She’d given Gregory her troth to marry, but she had yet to give him her heart, in hope that one day she would grow to love him. But after seeing Edmund, just looking into his eyes one more time, she found her thoughts becoming twisted. Was it possible she still loved him? Despite what he’d done, despite the years that had passed?
Where was that girl?
Other servants came and went, bringing in an ornate tub and filling it with warm water. Still there was no word from her maidservant. Cara proceeded with her bath alone, hoping the girl would show up in time to help her dress for the evening meal. The warmth of the water soothed her tension some, but there was little water could do to ease the way her body ached for Edmund. She shut her eyes, feeling a whirlwind of guilt, scolding herself for her wicked thoughts, which betrayed Gregory and lusted after a man of God.
“Milady, Master Collier to see you,” the maidservant suddenly announced. A gasp escaped the young girl’s lips when she realized she could not stop Edmund’s purposeful stride into the room.
His gray eyes went wide, and for a moment, he stared blatantly at Cara, then spun on his heel, facing away from her. “My apologies, milady.”
The now frightened maidservant hurried to Cara, offering her a robe. She stepped from the tub and covered her nakedness, then nodded to the girl. “Leave us.”
The servant opened her mouth to speak, her eyes darting toward Edmu
nd.
“It is quite all right. Master Collier and I are old friends,” Cara explained.
Hesitant still, the girl bowed and left the room, but Cara knew she would be outside the door.
Cara walked over and closed it quietly. What she had to tell Edmund she didn’t want all of Dublin to know.
8
“I WOULD BE MORE THAN HAPPY TO WAIT OUTSIDE while you dress.” Edmund kept his attention focused on his feet, his back still turned. “I must tell you, I do not feel it is wise for me to be here. Are you in some kind of trouble? Your note—”
“Edmund, look at me.”
He raised his head and met her lovely green eyes, not expecting that she would affect him as powerfully as she did. Her beautiful hair, wet at the ends, clung in provocative tendrils against her neck. Edmund pushed away the thought of that glorious red hair sweeping across his bare flesh.
“I am fine. You have been working in the sun, I see. It suits you,” she said.
He raised his hands, noting the nicks and scars crisscrossing his skin, the calluses from holding a sickle. Edmund shifted the conversation away from himself, purposely keeping his gaze anywhere but on her. “This is a lovely room. It suits you, Cara,” he said quietly.
She stared at him, holding the brocade robe together with her clasped hand. It was the only thing standing between him and paradise….
Edmund mentally reprimanded himself. Had he been deluding himself that he’d forgotten her, that he was able to put aside the deep stirrings it had taken him so long to get past? He had to find his perspective, his peace in facing her again, and in accepting that she was about to marry his best friend. “You, uh, said in your note you need me?”
“Yes, Edmund, I do. Please sit down.” She sat across from him, carefully tucking the robe around her legs.
Edmund eased back into his seat and cleared his throat. His gaze strayed to where her robe gaped open, revealing not the young girl’s small breasts he remembered, but a woman’s—full and lush. His throat went dry and he fought to ignore the heat that flashed through his body. “Cara, if this is about Gregory or the wedding, you owe me no explanation.”
Following his gaze, she realized the problem, and remedied it, clutching the two pieces of fabric together, hiding her flesh. A quiet sigh followed. “I had not thought this would be so difficult.” She glanced at him, her cheeks stained with a pale blush.
“I want you to know that you have no reason to be uncomfortable around me, Cara. In truth, it is I who should be asking your forgiveness.”
She looked down, twisting her fingers in her lap. He leaned forward and took her hands, trying to make her understand. “I did not keep my promise to you.” He lifted the corner of his mouth in a half smile. “I had sound reason, of course, but little choice in the matter.”
“Because of the statutes?” she pressed.
“Yes, in part,” he responded.
“And what about now?”
The murky water he found himself wading into just got murkier. He looked down and shook his head. “Cara, you are to be married in a few days.”
“All the more reason, Edmund, that I deserve to know,” she said, searching his eyes. God in heaven, he’d forgotten how beautiful, how expressive they were. He had a difficult time imagining her in Gregory’s bed, and the heaven of waking to her face each morning. What did it matter now? Edmund looked at their hands, clasped as they had been the night he’d left her. The night he’d vowed to return for her. She could have been his, had he followed through with that promise, if he’d listened to his heart and stolen her away that night. But fate had other things in store, and now so much had changed. “What is it that you need to know, Cara, so that you can move on with your life? If I have answers to those questions, then I am happy to give them.”
Being with her face-to-face reminded him how easily they’d been able to talk with one another, how quickly they’d bonded. In some ways, it felt like only yesterday that they had parted. Perhaps it was the possibilities that plagued him—the thought of what might have been.
“Have you taken your vows, Edmund?”
He rose, walking to the fireplace across the room, distancing himself from her. The question posed a disturbing reality that he was not prepared to face. The one that had hit him in the stomach the minute he’d seen her in the hall today, and his body had reacted of its own accord. Even now, he struggled with the dark smoke of desire swirling inside him.
He leaned his hands on the mantel and stared at the crackling fire, welcoming the distraction of the colored flames.
“Edmund?”
Her hand gently touched his shoulder, and he turned to her, his eyes stinging.
“Are you crying?” she asked, studying his face.
“No, it is the smoke from the fire.”
“If I’ve hurt you by my question, I am sorry. I understand the choices you’ve made. But I had to hear from you.” She searched his eyes. “To be sure.”
Edmund looked at her sweet face, the one he’d dreamed of so many nights. “How could you possibly bring me pain, Cara? I will always cherish the short time we had.”
“I know, I feel the same.” She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tight, her breasts pressed against his chest. God forgive them both. He found her mouth, finding the easy rhythm he remembered, the give and take. A small groan crawled from his throat and he thought of nothing else but gathering her into his arms and satisfying what he’d denied himself for these past years. He parted her robe, his hands caressing, his callused fingers touching her satin-smooth skin. Eager, driven by her insistent kisses, he explored every curve, each tightly pebbled peak, the sweet warm valley between her thighs.
“Oh,” she sighed, capturing his mouth in a heated kiss as he coaxed her, slipping his fingers into her slick warm heat. She crooked her hand around his neck, her thighs parted, not taking her eyes from his as he fanned the need building between them. He told himself that this was against everything he’d worked so hard to accomplish, and yet it was worth every moment, hearing her breath catch.
“You do still care for me,” she whispered, and slipped the robe from her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor.
She gripped his hand, backing up until her legs touched the settee, and she lay back, inviting him with her eyes, her arms, her moist, pink flower awaiting him. Edmund closed his eyes, fighting the hardening of his cock. He did not want to weigh what was wrong and right; he wanted only to feel her tight around him, as he’d dreamed of so many times. He freed himself and knelt on the cushion before her. Lifting her thigh, finding just the right angle, he pushed deep as she sighed. She looked up at him, her eyes bright with adoration, lifting her hips to meet his fervent thrusts. There was no time for sweet words, no time for gentle caresses. She deserved much more, but his body, determined to rid itself of this dark lust, slowed, driving deeper. All the time he watched her expression, seeing her body ascending to that state of bliss. How many times he’d imagined this moment, not in secret, but in wedded union with her. Fluid heat filled him, and his hips moved in blind freedom. Only one question plagued him now—one that he fought to ignore.
Did he love her still?
Her quiet gasp was followed by her spasms that caressed, encouraged him. Biting back a loud groan, Edmund grabbed her hip and held tight, giving in to his own exploding release. Then he backed away, pulled up his breeches and dropped to his knees with his head in his hands. The implosion of regret attacked him. What had he done? My God, whether he cared for her or not, what good was it now? She was to be married to another in two days’ time, to a man who could care for her in a proper manner. And worse, Edmund had just sentenced himself to a lifetime of torture, coveting another man’s wife. “I’m sorry, Cara. I did not mean for this to happen. I didn’t know you were Gregory’s betrothed. If I had known, I would have stayed away, for this very reason.”
“No, Edmund.” She sat up, the sweet, musky scent of sex wafting toward him, arousing him
once more. She stroked his head, gently forcing him to look at her.
Oh, God, how could he be thinking of wanting her again?
“Edmund, we still feel the same as we once did. There is no shame in that. What would be a shame would be to ignore such a gift and pretend it did not exist.”
He pushed himself to his feet, turning his eyes from her beautiful body—a body he had no right to. He bent down and draped the robe around her shoulders, covering her tantalizing flesh as much as possible. “I have made my choice, Cara, as you have. Your life with Gregory will be far better than anything I can offer you. Think of what he can give you, your family. He can take care of you in ways that I cannot.”
“But it is not Gregory I love, Edmund. Are you so blind you do not see that?” she pleaded. “Look at me.” Her voice rose, and Edmund feared they would be heard. He took her face in his hands, not knowing how else to calm her.
“Look at me and say that you have no feelings for me.”
He could not lie to himself or to her. “It does not matter how I feel. You are to marry another, and that is the way of it. We are not the wide-eyed children of three years ago, Cara. There are matters of greater importance now and we must accept that.” Despite the bravado of his words, Edmund strode from the room, knowing if he looked back, he would crumble.
“Edmund, we have a child,” she said after he’d gone. Why didn’t she tell him? Cara grappled with guilt that she hadn’t come out and told him about Moyran. But she’d needed to know first how he felt about her. She didn’t want to saddle him with the guilt of a child, if he no longer cared for her. She closed her eyes, her body heating even now, remembering the way he’d looked at her, the passion shining in his eyes as he made love to her. She could not be mistaken in this. He did still care for her, but his pride and loyalty blinded him to the fact.
She changed back into her clothes and gathered what few possessions she’d brought with her. It was impossible for her to marry Gregory now, not with the knowledge that Edmund still carried feelings for her. Perhaps she was a fool to think he might change his mind. That he would see the sacred gift the gods and goddesses had bestowed on them. Such passion could not survive both time and distance, if not for a higher purpose.
The Pleasure Garden: Sacred VowsPerfumed PleasuresRites of Passions Page 7
