“Yours or mine?” he asked, wanting to be absolutely positive about what she wished.
“Your bed.” Her voice was firm.
“Are you sure?” He still had no idea what had happened between them and was afraid she would regret their coupling.
She stared up at him, her blue eyes searching his. “Absolutely sure.”
Geoff carried her up to his bedchamber. They undressed each other slowly, kissing and tasting as each piece of clothing was removed. This had none of the frantic mating they’d engaged in before, but was all the more poignant for not being rushed and so filled with lust they couldn’t keep their hands off each other.
Elizabeth cried out as she came, bringing him with her. Afterward, she lay in his arms not speaking. Then again, she never needed conversation after they had coupled.
Yet, for some reason he refused to study, he did. “Why now when you have put us off for so long?”
She rolled over, propping herself on his chest and meeting his gaze. “I heard what your father said to you the day before we left Town. Congratulating you on getting me to the altar. About how qualified I was to be your wife.” She shook her head as if to clear it. “And I heard your answers. They cut me to the quick. I realized then that, although I had fallen in love with you, you didn’t love me.” Her eyes darkened. “I was resolved not to share your bed until you loved me, too. Yet, after what I have seen in the past day . . . The anguish of the injured and dying, the women who lost their husbands and sons”—tears shone in her eyes and he didn’t know what to do to comfort her—“I—I could not remain apart from you any longer. It doesn’t matter that you do not love me. What matters is that I love you. And if anything was to happen to you, and I had not told you how I feel, I would always regret it.”
She patted his chest, rolled over, and dropped off into a deep sleep. Leaving him with more questions than he had ever had in his life.
All this time he had thought she was angry with him because he’d gone out without telling her where he was or when he’d return. He’d had no idea she was in love with him. If what she felt was love—and he had no reason to doubt her—this was not the type of love he’d seen his friends go through. Full of jealousy, and arguments, and then passionate making up in a repetitive cycle until the passion and joy were no longer there.
Had they been wrong about what love was? Had he? And if so, if what Elizabeth felt for him, a steady companionship, filled with small joys, and earnest discussion on how to make their lives together a home, was real love, then whatwashe feeling?
If she had made love to him, did that not mean he’d made love to her as well?
Geoff had been so careful not to use the wordlovein anything they did. But, perhaps he had been wrong. Had he purposefully ignored the vow of love he’d made during their wedding?
The question was how would he know if he was in love?
* * *
The next afternoon it rained.
Geoff reported to Sir Charles that morning to discover the allies had held their ground through the night. He continued to meet and attempt to calm his fellow countrymen. And every time he wanted to tell them to stop acting like children, he reminded himself of what his wife was likely to be up to. He’d rather be with her.
That afternoon when a great crack of lightning followed by thunder rent the air, and the heavens opened up to pour down buckets of water on the city, everyone around him started to laugh.
“I feel like a fool, but what is so bloody funny about rain?”
Sir Charles slapped Geoff’s back. “This, my boy, is Wellington weather. Almost every one of his successes has been in pouring rain.”
That was good news. Geoff’s thoughts immediately turned to Elizabeth. “I’ll be back straightaway.” Sir Charles raised a brow. “My wife, sir. She is helping tend the wounded. I want to make sure she gets out of this downpour.”
“Come back as soon as you can. We should be receiving more news.”
Geoff rushed out into the street, and just as he’d expected, down the street, Elizabeth, her muslin gown clinging to her, was helping a soldier at least a foot taller than she was. “Here, let me.” He relieved her of her burden. “Where is your maid?”
She pushed her bedraggled bonnet out of her eyes. “Finding the house. This soldier’s house.”
They walked a few more blocks before Vickers appeared with a middle-aged Bruxelles couple hurrying toward them.“I have ’im now,monsieur,” the man said as he supported the soldier. “Thank you. He has become like a son.”
“Geoffrey,” Elizabeth said when the man left. “What are you doing out here? You are going to be soaked.”
“I think I already am. But what am I doing? Making sure you don’t become ill from being in the rain. Come, sweetheart. I’m taking you home.”
Elizabeth’s heart soared when Geoffrey called her “sweetheart.” Was it because of what she had said the night before? It really didn’t matter. She had become tired of the game and could not bring herself to play it any longer. Not when there were so many people who would never see their loved ones alive again.
“Very well.” She slipped her arm around his waist. “You must change as well. I do not believe Sir Charles will appreciate you making puddles on his floors.”
Geoffrey’s chuckle warmed her from the inside out. “No, I don’t suppose he will.” They had already reached the door of their house when he said, “Did you know they call this rain Wellington weather?”
