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She had been the one to soothe him? Rafe hadn’t thought that would happen. Then another thought came to him. Oh, God, did that mean…?
“You saw me, then.”
“Of course I did. I’ve never seen anyone sweat like that when they’re so cold unless they have a fever, and you clearly aren’t unwell.” Victoria frowned. “How many times do you have these bad dreams? Mayfield said you’ve been having them more frequently since you came back to England.”
“Almost all the time.”
Rafe felt ashamed for even talking about it. He had only talked to Mayfield about it, although he had warned Manning about his night terrors; he hadn’t wanted to give the servant a scare. Having to confess to his wife that he still had nightmares like a child was embarrassing. He thought she would laugh at him.
But she wasn’t laughing. She was looking at him with an expression he never thought he would see on her face. Compassion. She looked softer than Rafe had ever seen her. His breeches were getting even tighter now, and Rafe had to subtly check that the sheets were covering his lap.
“These dreams,” Victoria went on, her eyes searching his face. “Are they all the same?”
“Pretty much. They seem to get longer and longer as well.” Rafe ran a hand through his hair. His fingers came away damp. “It’s almost like my memory is trying to find the missing pieces and put them together, but it just traps me in the nightmare for longer. And I can’t get out of it.”
“I see.”
There was silence after that. And it felt heavy. Rafe didn’t know what to say, and he was becoming aware that he was shirtless in his bed while Victoria was wearing a thin nightgown. He could see the outline of her nipples through the fabric, the curve of her full breasts, and she didn’t seem to realise that it was lower around the cleavage. It was almost like she was tempting him.
He could take advantage of it. She was his wife, after all. But Rafe had promised himself that he would never do that, not unless she came to him willingly.
He should be telling her to leave; having her in his bedchamber was making him lose his composure. Rafe swallowed.
“I think you’d better go, Victoria.”
“What’s wrong?”
“You shouldn’t be here.”
Victoria frowned.
“Even after I helped you rest? You’re throwing me out now?”
“I do appreciate you helping me. Really. But you seem to forget the position we’re in.”
“What position?”
Rafe groaned.
“You’re wearing a nightgown that is…not leaving much to the imagination. I’m only human, and I have the issue of being your husband….”
He didn’t say much more than that, mostly because he saw Victoria understand the clarity of the situation. Her mouth dropped open, and her eyes widened. Then she started to scramble out of bed.
“I…I’d better go. I need to go back to my own room.”
“Victoria.”
Victoria stopped, almost out of the bed. She didn’t look at him, but Rafe could see her trembling. Was she afraid of him? Rafe hated that she could be scared of him. Shifting across the bed, he moved onto his knees beside her.
“Can you look at me, please?”
Victoria didn’t move for a moment. Then she slowly turned to face him, her eyes showing her apprehension. Rafe’s chest tightened at the sight.
“Thank you. For being there. You didn’t need to.”
“I’m your wife, aren’t I?” Victoria quipped. “I should be there to help when I can.”
“But you don’t like me. Why would you do it?”
