A beginning.
He shifted wee Preston about in a practiced move, palming his head in his hand and letting the length of his body lay down his forearm. He looked down into the baby’s wide serious eyes staring at him and returned the look. Eve might have the right of it. He could definitely see the green in the lad’s eyes. Whether they would be the grassy green Eve’s were or Francis’ more olive tone, it was hard to tell. He slipped his finger into Preston’s fist marveling at the strength of his wee hand, comparing the bairn’s soft white skin to his dark, scarred knuckle.
He’d had the right of it before, children seemed to make everything more simple. Or perhaps they only made one’s life so complicated, a person hadn’t the time to consider anything else.
Vin smiled at the thought as he absently stroked the back of Preston’s hand with his thumb. From the corner of his eye, he caught Moira staring at him as if fascinated by the sight of him holding his nephew and cursed inwardly. Her expression held wistful longing he knew wasn’t simply a woman’s yearning to have a child. He’d dreaded seeing that look from the moment they’d first made love and she snuggled against him with a dreamy smile on her lips. As he feared, she was building a fantasy around their newfound romance, imagining a future with them together and a child of their own.
What if they were to, heaven forbid, marry?
The idea held more than one opportunity for disaster. There was his oldest fear. While he might not think Moira capable of such deceit, one day she might grow bored with him and consider taking a lover. While it was difficult to imagine given her beauty and passionate lovemaking, he might one day tire of her as well. Though he refused to consider that he would sink so low as to leave her in similar straits, such disinterest led to discontent.
Or worse, what if she found out the real truth of how her brother died and was locked into a marriage filled with hate?
He had enough problems without adding the possibility of a tragic marriage to them.
Still, he could feel the appeal of slipping into Moira’s illusion. It was an appealing image, a life and family. A life where each day might hold the affection and laughter this day had. Even a moment of contentment like he’d found with her might be worth the risk.
Vin shook his head, willing the fantasy away because there was always the greater issue lingering on the edge of his mind. The one he had conveniently set aside to have what he wanted from her already. He might imagine a dream life with her but couldn’t have it. He couldn’t give Moira what she longed for even if he wanted to. He was man enough to admit there were moments he wanted to but his ghosts were still too close, watching over his shoulder.
Knowing they weren’t finished with their haunting, Vin thought he would have to address the subject, and soon so Moira didn’t develop expectations he couldn’t deliver on.
Chapter 30
He had known the love that is fed on caresses and feeds them;
but this passion that was closer than his bones was not to be superficially satisfied.
~ Edith Wharton from The Age of Innocence
Vin woke with before dawn, his body spooned behind Moira as she nestled against him under the covers. Her warm bottom cradled against his groin, her head pillowed by his arm. His other arm was thrown over her waist and tucked up between her breasts. Her hands were curled over his. The contentment he’d felt the previous morning was multiplied tenfold by her presence in his bed and in his arms.
With an inward groan, he knew he needed to address the talk he thought to have with her. They’d had a wonderful day and night together. Their evening spent with laughter and friendship with his brother and Eve. Then he’d brought Moira back to his bed and made long, sweet love to her long into the night. It was a tempting illusion of what could be. The lure was powerful to push aside his reservations and embrace the fantasy of having every day be like the one before. And to wake with her in his arms like this?
There was no point in getting used to mornings like this when there was little chance he might enjoy them indefinitely. This wonderful cocoon of bliss surrounding them now wouldn’t last much longer. It was getting harder and harder to push the guilt aside when it crept over him and Vin knew there was little chance of keeping Moira’s affection or even presence in his life when the truth was outed.
He would need to explain that to her, to keep these encounters in the right perspective for them both. He simply couldn’t allow her to get her hopes up that there might be more for them beyond this.
Still, he could stop himself from skimming a hand over the curve of her bottom and up over her hip. He had even less chance of restraining the urge of pulling her back tightly against his groin. Pushing her hair aside, he nuzzled the back of Moira’s neck as he smoothed his palm over her bottom once more before his hand slid between her thighs. His fingers traced the deep valley of her cleft to find the moist heat within.
Moira turned her face, burying it in the pillow. “Are you actually thinking to wake me like this?” she grumbled. “I’m sleeping.”
Vin grinned, propping his head on his hand so he could look down at her, or what he could see of her since her hair covered most of her face. She was not much of a morning person. Oh, once she was awake and up, she was fine. Getting her awake and up was usually the problem.
“You aren’t sleeping any longer.” He pressed a kiss to the back of her head before burying his face in the mass of hair around her. “Come on, lovey, wake up and play with me.” He slid a finger back and forth down the cleft.
“Ugh, go away. I’m still tired.”
The fog was starting to clear from Moira’s mind, though. Vin had kept her up long into the night but she’d had enough sleep to get by for the day. Unable to stop herself, she pushed back against his hand and offered in a voice holding as much sacrifice as she could summon.
“All right then. Fine.”
Hearing the desire under her grumbling words, Vin grinned again and slid his hand down her bottom once more pushing her top leg away before positioning himself and nudging into her from behind. Moira gave an unladylike grunt but helped him by raising her leg. Smiling in amusement, he withdrew and thrust again deeply drawing a deeper groan from her then began to move more quickly, steadily building the tempo. Soon, she was arching back against him even as she buried her head in her pillow, her moans and cries muffled by the feathers.
Feeling her responsive body begin to tighten, Vin reached around and cupped her from the front, circling her throbbing nub until she was screaming into the pillow with her climax. Grabbing her hips, he pumped into her twice more before finding his own quick release. He gathered her in his arms and pulled her back against him, holding her close.
They remained that way for so long, he was beginning to think she’d fallen back asleep until she raised her face from the pillow and turned her head, brushing her hair out of her eyes.
“You know, normally I don’t like to be woken up.”
“Really?” he said innocently.
“I’m just telling you now. Once is alright, but don’t let it happen again.”
“I know, you take your sleep very seriously.”
“I do,” she agreed, knowing that Vin was aware she was only partially joking. She didn’t like to be woken early, she managed being an early riser without anyone rushing the moment for her. On the other hand, if that was how she was roused, Moira couldn’t seem to find much fault in Vin’s methods. “What time is it?”
He looked at the clock on the mantle. “Just half six. Sorry I woke you so early.”
“I’ll survive,” she sighed. “Maybe. I should get up.”
“Do you have someplace to be?”
She chuckled ruefully. “Back in my own bed before Lucy comes.”
He shared her amusement for a moment but was still reluctant to give her up to the day. “You aren’t riding this morning?”
Moira turned over, trying to gauge Vin’s mood. If she didn’t know better, she would think he was trying to fe
rret out whether she would be seeing Harry that morning. Looking back on the previous day, her wishful side could point out moments that might be called jealousy but nothing she thought that would win Harry his wager. She didn’t personally think he could be prodded into a publicly outward act as Harry or Abby did, but it was nice to feel this tentative possessiveness from Vin.
It was another step in the road toward a life with him.
“I’m not,” she assured him but felt compelled to add, “because of the ball tonight, you know. I have other things to do today to help Eve. Kitty and Abby will also be over most of the day getting it all settled.”
“The ball?”
Moira laughed at the confusion on his face. “Yes, the ball. Your ball. It’s tonight, remember?”
Vin flopped back with a groan. Ah, that’s right. He did remember though he would rather not. He’d managed to avoid any real contact with Society since that night at the theater and considered his life better for the lack of social interaction. Tonight, there would be no escaping it. He’d even had a suit of evening clothes ordered for himself. He was scheduled to return to the tailor for a final try-on and pick them up at nine this morning. He considered the clock once more with a groan and rubbed his face.
It would certainly be no day like the last.
“Are you going to escort me tonight?”
He looked at her between his fingers, catching her hopeful look and lower lip caught between her teeth. “Why do you need an escort? It’s in our own home.”
“Not a physical escort, silly. A figurative one,” she explained. “When we were in London last year, Francis was always technically my escort, but he’s host tonight and I’d like to be on someone’s arm when I enter the ballroom.”
“Who was doing that when Francis was in London?” he asked. “Richard?”
Moira could see Vin was skirting the issue but couldn’t understand why. It was just an escort. It wasn’t as if he would have to marry her if he said ‘yes’.
“No, Harry always did. He’s been my escort just about everywhere I’ve gone for the past month.”
Vin gnashed his teeth regretting he had asked. Of course, the marquis had been her escort. Aylesbury had been panting after her for weeks, he wanted to marry her by everyone’s observation including his own.
“Perhaps you should have him do it then.”
Moira’s brows shot up at the tone of Vin’s voice. “You don’t want to? Is that it?”
Vin sighed. “Moira,”—she knew it was bad if he was using her name instead of his nickname for her—“we need to talk.”
Dread leeched through her. That didn’t sound good. “About what?”
Taking a deep breath, he began, “I think you might be seeing more to this affair of ours than I intended.”
“Like what?” she asked through gritted teeth. How frustrating! Just when she thought Vin might be coming to appreciate what she had to offer, he took a step backward. “It’s just a ball,” she added her previous thought. “Nothing more.”
“All I want is friendship, Moira. Your friendship. It’s important to me. I didn’t want this to ruin it. That’s why I was going to leave,” he explained awkwardly. “I would never have begun this thing between us if you hadn’t invited me.”
“Sorry to push you into something so distasteful.” Her words dripped sarcasm as she climbed out of the bed and began searching for her clothes.
“It’s not distasteful,” he protested, sitting up the bed. “And you didn’t push me. I’ve wanted you from the day I first saw you again. This,”—he waved a hand back and forth between them,—“has been bloody fantastic. But I just don’t want you to get the idea that there will be more than this.”
“Like?” Moira pulled on her blouse and began buttoning it.
“Marriage. I don’t want to marry. It’s not you. It’s just the whole thing. That whole mess with Vanessa was a hard pill to swallow.” But as Vin gave the reason he had always automatically given against marrying, he knew, in this case, it wasn’t the reason he didn’t want Moira to get her hopes up. He just wasn’t about to share those reasons with her in that moment.
She snorted in a most undignified fashion as she pulled on her skirt. “You needn’t worry that I’ll be panting after you. I do have options, you know.”
It was Vin’s turn to grind his teeth. Aye, he knew exactly what kind of options she had and he hated it, but what could he do? If she got too attached to him, friendship would be impossible and perhaps it already was. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing her. However, if he got too attached to her, he was setting himself up for a fall.
Bugger it, he’d known it was a bad idea to let things get this far, to allow such deep intimacy between them. He felt the urge to explain himself, to try to make her understand. Vin shook his head. Her eyes might hold passionate anger now, but he couldn’t bear the thought of the cold disgust that might fill them one day. He couldn’t be bound to her when that happened.
Even though the thought turned his stomach, perhaps it would be best for Moira to return her attention and expectations to the marquis. He was a better match for her, he thought. Aylesbury would never let her down as Vin felt he must.
“I think you should explore them more fully, then,” he said at last, hating the words even as they emerged.
Moira stared at Vin in amazement. Just like that? He was sending her off to Harry? But as she looked closer, she could see the misery in his eyes. He wasn’t happy about it and he wasn’t as detached as he seemed. In fact, he couldn’t even meet her eyes as she continued to study him.
What was going on? It was more than a dislike of marriage, more than his revulsion with Vanessa’s attempted seduction. He might be using it as a handy excuse but Moira somehow sensed there were deeper reasons and couldn’t help but wonder what they could be. Was it still the issue with her being Jason’s sister? His unrealistic need to file her conveniently away as a friend only?
Vin had never been one for change, she knew that. He’d always liked things just so. He didn’t like his applecart to tilt, so to speak. He’d always been good at seeing through anything that disturbed him. If he tended to dwell on the past or see the world with his own interpretation of the facts, it had never influenced their interactions with each other. That is, with the single exception of his insistence through the years of never noticing her love for him.
Monumental effort was usually required for Vin to accept change. It wasn’t a quality she’d ever had a problem with. It was simply how he was.
But Moira thought she might have an issue with it now.
If some moment had taken Vin so firmly in its hold that he refused to embrace a happy future with her, she certainly had a problem with it. She just needed to figure out what it was.
“I want our friendship to last, lovey,” he said when she remained silent for so long.
“Save me a dance then, won’t you?”
Vin searched her face for the anger that had simmering their moments ago but found none. Rather, she seemed almost calculating and he wondered what she was up to. “How about a waltz?” he asked, remembering their one dance years before.
“That would be lovely.”
With that, Moira left him alone staring after her.
Chapter 31
Heaven never helps the men who will not act.
~ Sydney Smith
The Glenrothes’ ballroom was flooded with the cream of Edinburgh society to celebrate Vin’s return. As he stood in the receiving line with Francis and Eve, Vin realized hadn’t been in this situation since Moira and Jason’s father, Jamie MacKenzie, Earl of Seaforth, and his maternal grandfather Neill Mercea, the Marquis of Landsdowne, had held that final ball at Old Klebreck Tower to send them off to Burma nearly seven years ago now.
Life seemed such a lark then. Oh, to be sure, after four years in the guards, he had seen his share of battles and blood, felt the weight of responsibility settle firmly about his shoulders but life still held a spark.
There was laughter and joy. Lately, it seemed he might find those things once more but life had a way of disappointing.
This ball was not one of the things bringing joy. The guests were too curious to uphold a purely polite level of conversation. Already probing questions were being asked as if a macabre fascination for the details of his imprisonment and torture had Society in its grip. There were more questions regarding his health. Some recent gossip had put him near death’s door. Though only a week old, gossip surrounding his return was rampant and barely based in fact.
Vin was thankful that his brother’s tailor managed a set of eveningwear so quickly for him. A man needed not only his strength but also his armor when in the face of such a battle. Despite the rude inquiries from the guests, he would be expected to socialize, to at least act as if he were pleased with the ball so as not to disappoint Eve and Abby. So Vin stood through the indeterminable time in the receiving line. He shook hands, nodding politely to the guests and constantly scanned the room trying to keep Moira in his sight.
His eyes slid off to the side where she stood on Aylesbury’s arm chatting with some other guests. She looked so lovely tonight. Her gown was of pearlescent ivory silk with a ruched chiffon neckline that fell off her shoulders leaving them bared to any man’s gaze. Over the stiff pleated underskirt, more chiffon swathed the skirt hugging and encircling her hips. It was drawn up the side and decorated with silken leaves and flowers of rose, pink and a dark red that just matched the shade of her hair. There were more flowers in her hair and along the neckline just at the edge of her breasts drawing the eye. It seemed that every gown she wore called attention to those incredible globes and Vin wondered if every man stared as much as he.
Moira whispered to Aylesbury behind a matching fan, her eyes twinkling over the top. Vin thought spitefully that at least her hands and arms were covered with long gloves so the man couldn’t hold her bare flesh in his own. But as if knowing his thoughts, the marquis’ hand snaked up to run along her bared neck ever so briefly caressing her there. Vin followed those fingers through narrowed eyes before catching sight of the man’s mocking gaze. As if he knew what Vin was thinking.
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