by Lin, Amber
“Are you awake?” she whispered.
“No.”
She crept closer. “Liar.”
“Go back to bed, Sidony.”
“I need to speak with you,” she said urgently. “It’s about—”
“I know what it’s about.” Resigned, he sat up slightly. “Come here, then. If you insist on staying, let’s get you off the cold floor.”
She climbed into bed and settled herself in his arms. They were quiet. His breathing evened out, but she knew he was awake by the strokes of his thumb against her forearm.
“I was wrong to give you a deadline,” he finally said. “We’d already been apart for three years. I couldn’t stand to wait any longer. But that wasn’t fair to you.”
Speechless, she waited.
“You deserve a proper courtship in town. I’ll follow you this season and request permission from Geoffrey to court you.”
Her heart clenched. This was even worse than an ultimatum. Now or never had been a terrifying prospect when she had not heard from him in so long. But at least she could have had him. Now? She would have to wait a whole season; then longer while they planned a wedding.
A small sound of protest came from her throat.
“Shh,” he said. “Sleep now. We can discuss it further.”
They slept that night. Restlessly, she dreamed of stormy seas. He had left, she thought hazily, and she had no way of finding him. She tossed in panic, only to find him, warm and soothing her.
In the morning she woke early. His erect flesh pressed against the small of her back. She rocked back, reveling in the tension of his body and the low groan he made.
“Not now. The maids will come.”
Reluctantly she acceded to his wishes and started to leave.
He stopped her. “Here.”
She accepted a heavy rectangular packet tied in brown paper and a blue ribbon.
“A present,” he said gruffly.
“Oh, but I—”
“Just take it,” he said, grimacing with self-effacement. “It’s already yours. I was just holding it.”
She rushed to her room and slipped into bed, tearing open the ribbon.
Inside were letters.
So many of them. Some had turned brown and wrinkled. Others were new, with different stationery and darker ink. Some were sheets of paper folded over while others were enclosed in unmarked envelopes.
Letters. He had written to her. He’d just never sent them.
She went through them, finding her way through half the stack. Her maid came and went, but she didn’t stop reading. Some were full-fledged missives. Others were notes scribbled down on scraps of paper. All had opening lines that threatened to slay her. Dearest Sidony, they said. My love. And continued to tell how he missed her, loved her. How he dreamed of coming back to her.
Where water had touched some of them, the ink had bled onto the page, fanning out into a black snowflake before drying onto paper once again. Her tears joined them on the page, and she swiped at her cheeks impatiently. Her movements became frantic as she flipped through the stack, catching only sentences and then words. Love you, miss you. Wait for me.
And she had, she knew now. She set the papers down and closed her eyes. Moving on would have been impossible without closure. Not with the small, unquenchable hope in her heart that he would come back.
The last letter was written on beige parchment with dark ink.
My love,
Yesterday we docked in London, and in a few days travel I will see you again. After years of writing down every thought, I don’t know what I’ll say to you. I wish I could be witty and heartfelt, but that’s probably too much to ask. You must be angry at me. You should be. And yet, I cannot help but hope. It’s the only thing that’s sustained me this long—hope, and the knowledge that I must earn the means for your security before I deserve your love.
From discreet inquiries, I’ve learned you are not married or betrothed. I confess, when I heard that, I took a deep breath for the first time in years. The time we spent apart already feels like a dream. You’ll be there when I wake up, won’t you? I don’t know what I’ll do if you turn away from me. I ask only for a chance. I swear to you, I will never leave your side again.
…
That day she spent alone, but she needed the space. She needed the time to grieve for the boy he’d been. He’d given that up for her, that youthful buoyance, that boyish invincibility now replaced by duty. By hardship. Guilt clenched tightly in her chest as she lay in bed. Tears burned her eyes, but she forced them back. He didn’t want that from her. All he’d ever asked her to do was wait. His course may have been altered. Her faith may have wavered. But her answer was the same, and she knocked on his room late that evening to supply it.
“Yes,” she said breathlessly. “The answer is yes.”
He frowned, looking adorably rumpled in his robe. “I already said—”
“I know what you said. A chance. You have it. Stand by my side, from this Christmas on.”
His eyes darkened with emotion. “Sidony, you don’t have to do this. There is no hurry.”
“There is. For three years you’ve courted me, through danger and all around the world. I just didn’t know it. Couldn’t be sure.”
“But now you are?” He sounded skeptical.
“You must know that I love you. That I waited for you.”
He swallowed. “I hoped.”
“Come. This is my Christmas present.” She led him to her room and opened the door.
Poppet lounged on the bed, looking mildly annoyed by the blue ribbon tied in a bow at the nape of his neck. “He was… Bailey left a litter behind. They were all grey striped, except for this one. Black.” She smiled sadly. “He’s already yours. I was just holding him.”
“You did wait for me,” he said incredulously.
She nodded, unable to speak. Tears of longing and relief sprang to her eyes; there was no holding them back now. Raising her hands, she tried to hide—but he wouldn’t let her. Firm arms pulled her to him. A broad chest pillowed her head. Warm breath brushed her temple while he murmured to her, “There. It’s over now. I’m with you. I’m here.”
It only made her cry harder, because she hadn’t been sure this moment would ever come, and apparently neither had he. So much uncertainty of their promises, so much doubt in the face of their devotion. He caressed her hair with soothing strokes, washing away her fear. But then, they’d always had magic, those hands. They could calm her or excite her. They could spin an entire future from a few thin threads of hope.
When she quieted, she wiped her eyes and gazed up at him as if seeing him for the first time. “You’re really here.”
His eyes glistened. He quirked his lips. “Home for Christmas. You will marry me?”
“Yes.”
“You understand it is a step down. I still don’t have status or wealth like some—”
“Hale, I wanted to marry you when you were poor. I will find a way to persevere now that you are not.”
Chapter Five
Despite our secret and sensual play, I left England as your friend. A friend who refused to send letters, so that you might move on with your life, and even marry another if you chose to. That is not who returns to your life and your bed tomorrow. I intend to be your lover, your possession. Your husband. I am not the same man you knew, but I can only strive, with each day at your side, to be a better one.
Hale touched Sidony’s cheek, smooth as silk beneath his palm. This morning he’d had to leave her bed early. Too early, to avoid being caught by the maid. Soon, though, he wouldn’t have to sneak, wouldn’t have to hide. He could send the maids away for hours, for days, and damn propriety, once she was his wife.
As soon as her maid had gone, he’d slipped back into Sidony’s room, unable to stay away. It had always been that way. Hundreds of miles away, years away, and he couldn’t stand to be apart. At least the few minutes separation had given him time to shave and dress i
n new tailored clothes he’d had made on Bond Street upon his return. Their cut was elegant, the fabric carrying the weight of wealth and position. As if the clothes could make the man.
They couldn’t. He wasn’t good enough for her, but she never seemed to mind. He felt ever bulky and uncouth beside her—unworthy.
She opened her eyes and gave him a smile, lips trembling. He had to kiss them, to take her fear and excitement for his own. He felt the whole world through her, using her as a shield when all he ever wanted to do was protect her.
“I must explain,” he muttered. “I have to tell you…”
He’d always known it would come to this. He should have told her a long time ago. She grasped at his clothes, her breath fast and eager. Every time he’d tried, he’d gotten lost in her lithe body or the endless well in her eyes. He drowned in her, and he would do so his whole life, but she deserved to hear this.
Grasping her hands, he pulled back. “You know about my father.”
Solemnly, she nodded. Hale had never hidden from her his dislike of the viscount who had sired him. He was easy to talk about. Unlike his mother.
“My mother… She loved my father. She was a shop girl when he found her. He was already married. But she fell in love and happily became his mistress. She remained in that position through my childhood. I remember seeing a tall, forbidding man come to the front door. I was supposed to stay in the kitchen.”
Sidony’s eyes were wide and dark with pain. Only then did he realize he was squeezing her hands tightly. Releasing her, he paced away, running a hand through his hair.
This was harder than he’d thought it would be. Not because she would judge him, though she could and no one would blame her—least of all him. But because she was a mirror, those crystal eyes reflecting back at him. His uncertainty as a child, the taunts from other children who knew what his mother was before he did. And then later…
He forced the words out. “I sometimes think he must have loved her, too, to keep her for so long. She was well past youth when his fortunes turned. And then he couldn’t afford to keep her at all. By the end, we lived in a single, dirty room. She was ill, and there was no money for a doctor or food. Even when she was coughing, dying, she was waiting for him.”
“Oh, Hale. I’m so sorry. That’s awful.”
“When she died, I was so angry. Furious. I went to my father, expecting to… Hell, I wasn’t sure what I expected. To fight him, maybe. To challenge him, even though that was ridiculous.”
“Not ridiculous,” she said softly. “To defend your mother’s honor.”
“Well, he was a sick old man by then,” Hale said grimly. “On his own deathbed, though he’d brought that one on himself. He cried when I told him she had died.” He shook his head at the memory.
“I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t kill him.”
“No, of course not,” she said soothingly, and he thought she might agree to anything he said now. She was humoring him, which meant he must be worse off than he thought.
“Then he offered to send me to school. I figured—why not? I would use his money to get an education.” A hollow laugh. “I had no better prospects. And there I met Geoffrey.” And then you.
“I’m so glad you did, Hale. You excelled at school, and now as well, as a captain and businessman. Your mother would be so proud.”
“She was loyal to the end. She would say it was his blood that made me successful.” He smiled ruefully. “And since I only had the opportunity to gain an education due to his money, I suppose she’s right.”
“No, you earned everything you have now. You could have stayed and tried to use your connection with Geoffrey to give you an easy position. Instead, you forged your own path. A much more difficult one.”
He returned to her side, tucking a curl behind her ear. “You see why I had to do it. To support us, yes. And to procure your brother’s blessing when I asked for your hand. But it was more than that. I had seen the devotion of a woman in love… my mother loved him to her death. I couldn’t…I couldn’t watch you—”
“I understand. You didn’t trust yourself.”
He frowned. No, he hadn’t meant that. He couldn’t have watched her pine and love a man unworthy of her. He couldn’t have watched her suffer poverty and hardship in the name of love.
She smiled gently. “You didn’t want to be your father. Well, you’re not. You’re a strong, kind-hearted man. That’s who I fell in love with, Hale.”
His insides felt jagged, his throat raw. Was she right? Had he proved to himself that he wasn’t his father? Relief was a salve to his wounds. Yes, he had. Partly that. But building a future with Sidony took more than earning money and position. It also took letting go of the past.
Her expression was so open. So honest and strong. Why had he seen loving her as a weakness? She was so brave.
Pulling her close, he pressed his mouth against hers, knowing he was too rough, too hard—knowing she could take it. She opened her mouth to him, letting him in, body and soul. He felt the communion in every velvet caress of her tongue, in the sinuous movements of her body. She was graceful, fluid, like a sunlit stream running through his fingers. Lowering her onto the bed, he slid beneath her, closing his eyes against the onslaught of sensation. Small hands unbuttoned his trousers amid a rustling of skirt and petticoats. When she aligned the head of his cock to her opening, he had to open his eyes. God, the sight of her above him—hazel eyes glazed in lust, the tops of her breasts flushed with arousal. A wet, hot glove enclosed him, wrenching a groan from him.
Her smile was filled with feminine power. “You’ve needed this, haven’t you?”
“You,” he said hoarsely. “I need you.”
She bent down to his ear, sliding their bodies together in delicious friction. “I’m yours.”
He felt her words like a promise, a clench in his heart and an urgent pulse low in his body. He thrust up urgently with his hands on her hips, holding her body down on his. But she could take it. His woman, his wife. The strongest person he’d ever met. She could take anything he put to her. And gave back so much more.
When he came, sharp pleasure arced through his body. Lights burst across his vision, but even blinded and bowed, he saw her clearly. Full lips parted, skin flushed. Her dusky green eyes were sultry with passion and devotion. His chest swelled with answering desire. Loving her for the rest of his life would be his greatest privilege.
…
A fire crackled in the hearth, lighting Geoffrey’s study in a warm glow. Hale remembered flat gray walls, but cream wallpaper now featured slim cranes nestled among bamboo leaves. Catherine’s touch, he suspected. Sidony’s taste was more colorful, and he knew Geoffrey would scarcely notice the wall coverings, much less dictate them.
A light flurry of snow had turned the window white. Hale tapped idly on the soft, burnished leather of his chair. Every aspect of the study spoke to comfort, but his body was tense and sweating as though a storm was brewing. He’d learned to recognize the prescient crackle in the air, and he felt it now too.
He had literally spent three years preparing for this meeting. He could recite his accounts and investments by memory. He could detail his plans for how to keep Sidony happy—well, some of them.
And yet, it might not be enough. He was new money. A bastard. And, at least in a few ports, he might even be termed a pirate. Soldiers displaced from the war found a new battlefield—the sea. Even an official trading ship had to fight for its keep.
Frankly, Sidony could do better than a man such as him. Even asking Geoffrey might put a strain on their friendship. And if Hale must spirit her off to Gretna Green? The strain would snap. They might have grown apart over the years, but Hale had no desire to become Geoffrey’s enemy or to cause a rift in their small family.
The black cat strolled into the room and twined around Hale’s legs. Swallowing hard, he stroked the silky fur. So, this was Bailey’s offspring. He’d been shocked when Sidony told him, although he shou
ld have guessed sooner. He had narrowed his vision to only her—to only her response. After three years of suppressing all emotion and hope, he’d been reduced to a single plea. Will you marry me? Yes, yes, please God yes.
Geoffrey strolled into the room a few moments later. “Sorry for the delay. Catherine had a question. She’s planning a big wedding. But—” He shrugged. “Her first one was small.” He seated himself behind his desk and began fiddling with a stack of papers, eyes downcast.
Hale knew from experience he would have to wait until Geoffrey’s attention wandered back to him. “Geoffrey,” he prompted.
“Yes, I—” His friend continued to riffle through the papers, eyes too blank to be reading.
This was not an auspicious beginning. “I’m in love with your sister.”
Geoffrey froze. At least he’d heard. He glanced up, his eyes clearing. “I know,” he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Which it was, but Geoffrey didn’t know that. Or…
“I beg your pardon?”
“I know that you’re in love with Sidony. If I’m not mistaken, she returns your affection.”
Hale cleared his throat, trying to catch up. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?”
“I assumed that’s why you went to sea. To establish yourself for marriage.”
Was there anything he hadn’t figured out? “Yes, that’s right.”
Geoffrey raised an eyebrow. “And to explore the world before settling down.”
“No.” He was talking about women. “I’ve never had any desire to explore. If I travel later, I want it to be with Sidony. I’m asking for your permission to marry her.”
Geoffrey leaned back in his chair, looking thoughtful.
Hale forged on. “I have already let a townhouse in London, but we can search for something permanent when she arrives. I have also put out inquiries for land here in Lancashire, close to Harbeck Hall, so we can enjoy the country pursuits nearby.”
“She is still young.”
“Not too young.”
