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‘Then let’s go.’
She was the one who pulled him towards the stairwell this time, leading the way back down to their chamber. After the bleak associations of the roof, the roaring fire and brightly coloured tapestries were a welcome sight.
‘Here.’ She poured a cup of wine from the tray Susanna had left that morning and passed it to him, letting her fingers linger briefly against his. ‘You look like you need this.’
‘I do.’ He tossed back a few mouthfuls and then studied her over the rim, brown eyes glowing with warmth. ‘Thank you, Constance. Not just for this, but for listening. It’s a relief to finally tell someone what really happened.’
‘You’ve never told anyone?’
‘Jerrard knows some of it, but not all. As for everyone else, there might be rumours here at Wintercott, but no one spreads them abroad.’
‘Your father doesn’t deserve their protection.’
‘It’s not protection, it’s fear. They know what he’s capable of. But I don’t want anyone coming to the same conclusions as Alan either. I don’t want people to think badly of Blanche.’ He swallowed the last of the wine and then put the cup aside. ‘She deserved better.’
‘Then I’m glad you felt you could tell me.’
She pressed her lips together awkwardly, wondering what to do next. After such a difficult morning, perhaps she ought to leave him alone? Adelaide was probably wondering what had happened to her, too. Perhaps she ought to go back to the solar? Only for some reason her feet didn’t want to take her away. Besides, there was one other question she still had to ask him.
‘Matthew... I know families have secrets, but is that everything? I mean after your brother and now your father and Blanche. We agreed that honesty was important. You aren’t hiding anything else?’
‘About my family? No, there’s nothing else.’
She held on to his gaze, only partly reassured. There was something disconcerting about his expression, about the momentary pause before he’d answered, too. She believed the words and yet she couldn’t help but feel that he was still hiding something...
‘It was never my intention to keep secrets from you.’ He spoke again before she could work out what was bothering her, taking hold of both of her hands this time and toying with the fingers as if he were struggling to understand something. ‘It’s strange, but I was never much of a talker. Not about feelings anyway. About horses and weapons and armour, yes, but never feelings. Only with you, it’s different.’
‘Husbands and wives ought to talk.’ Ironically, she seemed to be having trouble speaking now at all. ‘How can they have a happy marriage otherwise?’
‘A happy marriage?’ He gave a short laugh. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen one of those.’
‘Well, I have. My parents. My uncle and aunt. It’s possible.’
‘Will you teach me how to do it?’
He lifted one of her hands to his mouth, pressing his lips against the backs of her fingers and she felt her pulse accelerate at once, accompanied by a heady feeling of anticipation. His lips were warm and surprisingly soft. They seemed capable of affecting more than just the area they touched, too. She could feel a tingling sensation spreading all the way up her arm and out through her body, seemingly in every direction at once, making her head feel dizzy and her knees tremble at the same time. She had the alarming sensation that her legs were about to give way beneath her.
‘I can try.’
‘I’d be grateful.’ He paused, lifting his other hand to her face and trailing it gently along the side of her jaw, down her throat and then back up again to her cheek, his eyes glowing with a look of raw intensity. ‘Very grateful.’
Constance licked her lips, struggling to control her breathing as it emerged in a series of short bursts. She wasn’t sure what he was doing to her exactly. Only she was entirely certain that she didn’t want it to stop.
‘Do you remember our wed
ding?’
‘Yes.’ She tilted her head to one side, pressing her cheek into his palm like a cat asking for attention. She even felt like purring. The gentle pressure of his fingers against her skin seemed to be building, too, stoking the tingling sensation inside her.
‘You looked so young and frightened that I almost changed my mind. When I came back to England, I was afraid that you’d be the same timid girl, but I couldn’t have been more wrong.’ His hand came to a halt all of a sudden, his thumb rubbing against her cheek as the rest of his fingers cupped her chin. ‘I think that despite everything, I made a good marriage.’
‘You do?’ The words sent a tremor shooting straight to her abdomen, reawakening the strange tugging sensation she’d felt that night in the hostelry. Instinctively, she leaned closer, surprised to notice that one of her arms was already wrapped around his waist though she had no memory of how it had got there. It seemed to have moved of its own accord.
‘I failed Blanche, but I won’t fail you, Constance.’ His voice sounded ragged as he dipped his head and drew her facer closer towards him, gently enough that she could still pull away if she wanted. ‘I’ll take you to Lacelby as soon as I can and then...’
And then... He didn’t finish the sentence as his lips closed upon hers, skimming gently across the surface at first and then clinging with a tenderness that made her insides quiver with longing. She recognised the feeling at last. Longing. Desire. Need. She coiled her other arm around his waist, too, and held tight, pushing her body close enough that she could feel the rhythmic pounding of both their heartbeats. He felt soft and yet strong at the same time, kissing her so deeply and thoroughly that she felt literally breathless by the time he lifted his head again.
And then... She wasn’t exactly sure what the words implied, but she wanted to find out. They felt like a promise, a pledge, a new start for their marriage. She lifted her eyes to his, her lips still tingling from his touch. She didn’t want to wait for anything.
