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Chapter Twenty-One
‘Idon’t suppose we could just forget it ever happened?’ The coward’s way out and one she wasn’t proud of suggesting, especially as denying her grief for so long hadn’t been the most prudent course of action.
Yet that grief was all part of her jumbled confusion. Experiencing all that, opening herself to all that a second time, was out of the question, therefore she could not afford to let Rafe into her heart. Nor did it feel appropriate or respectful to Michael. Yet on the other hand, there was something undeniable about Rafe that tempted her beyond the obvious lure of the physical. A sense of wellbeing and rightness in his presence which was like a balm to her soul. Attraction and kinship. A dangerous, potent combination that she could not risk.
Exactly like Michael but not and so very hard to comprehend.
‘I am pretty certain what happened last night is something I shall remember till my dying day.’ He raked his good hand through his hair, unaware that, rumpled, he was even more attractive than he was neat. ‘Was it just me who found it particularly...’ He shrugged with an awkwardness which he rarely displayed but which her damaged heart found much too appealing. ‘I am no blushing virgin myself, Sophie, and last night was...’ He sighed and shook his head as if baffled by it all. ‘Let us just say that last night...you...well, it was not at all what I am used to.’
Was that a compliment? A chastisement? Sheer unadulterated shock that a supposedly proper and unmarried woman could behave with such flagrant, hedonistic and enthusiastic abandon? Before her death, her mother had stuttered over an awkward conversation regarding ‘stoically enduring the marital chore’ which had left the sixteen-year-old Sophie dreading it. But then at seventeen, even with her and Michael’s first inexperienced fumblings, Sophie hadn’t found it a chore at all. Far from it, in fact. Over the three years they courted in secret, and whenever they could find an opportunity, she had never once refused Michael’s advances. If anything, she had welcomed them and created as many opportunities as she could for them to indulge themselves more. Together they had experimented and learned until she fully understood her sensuality and her body as well as his. In no time, that aspect of their lives had worked like clockwork, and he had adored her passion. Encouraged it and her to be ever bolder. But Michael was from common stock and Rafe wasn’t, so perhaps to his sensibilities her behaviour last night was shocking in the extreme.
‘I sincerely apologise if I shocked...’ He stayed her with a finger to her lips. One that lingered and traced the shape of them as he smiled.
‘For pity’s sake, don’t apologise.’ His laughter was part amusement, part wonder. ‘Though I cannot deny I was both shocked and stunned, still am truth be told, but last night was wonderful. You were wonderful. So wonderful I have to keep pinching myself that it wasn’t all a dream. It just knocked me sideways, that is all. Probably as much because it came out of the blue as it was...spectacular.’
Spectacular was an apt word. Her body still thrummed from the splendour of it and she smiled shyly back at him, which was ridiculous when there had been nothing coy about her in his bedchamber. There she hadn’t experienced an ounce of doubt or reticence. She had been in too much of a hurry to indulge in it all.
‘Are you blushing?’ He brushed her cheek and she nodded.
‘It’s absurd, isn’t it, when I am well aware that it is I who led the charge last night.’
‘Well, you are a general and I am but a mere captain...’ The finger tracing her cheek twirled in a stray tendril of her hair. ‘You really are a vexing conundrum, Sophie Gilbert.’ As if he realised he was touching her like a lover again, he withdrew his hand and fisted it behind his back. ‘But I still do not understand what it all meant.’ His stormy blue eyes were unsure. Wary.
Hopeful?
Surely not.
‘It meant...’ She wanted to say nothing but that would have been a lie—because it had meant something. A great deal, truth be told, although she did not want to pick apart why in case her heart was already involved, and that prospect terrified her more than her lack of restraint had. ‘Does it have to mean anything?’ Thankfully, no evidence of her sudden panic was visible in her tone. ‘We are both adults after all and neither are strangers to the sport.’ She hoped there was a broom big enough to sweep all this under the carpet where she did not have to ponder it. ‘Being in for a penny does not mean we have to go in for the whole pound.’
He frowned at her tortured analogy. ‘Pennies and pounds aside, I think we both need to understand where we stand now, don’t you? What with us being stuck under the same roof at least until your cottage is rebuilt or your aunt is well enough to move elsewhere in the interim. It’s going to be dashed awkward otherwise.’ He dropped his voice to a disarming whisper. ‘We have been intimate, madam. Gloriously intimate and we cannot undo that inescapable fact no matter how much you might wish to pretend otherwise.’ There was a hint of bitterness in those words. ‘If you regret what happened and have already deemed it a mistake, at least have the good grace to admit it.’
She could tell by the stubborn set of his jaw he wasn’t going to allow her to fob him off with more cowardly avoidance. ‘I do not regret it, Rafe.’ His broad shoulders relaxed at that truth. ‘Last night was...lovely.’ A wholly unsuitable word for it but an inane one which suited her confused emotions better than all the alternatives her brain conjured. All of them worrying and not at all as detached as she wanted to be. ‘And I have decided not to feel guilty about it.’ Another truth she did not realise until it tumbled from her lips.
‘I am thirty and long past the age of coquettishness, and I see nothing wrong in two consenting, over-burdened, jaded and lonely adults finding some occasional and discreet comfort in one another’s arms.’ Good heavens, that was an outrageous statement because it stated outright that she was open to a repeat of last night so long as they maintained strict parameters, yet it was exactly how she felt. ‘It is not as if either of us want any more than that.’ Best to lay out those parameters now. She was willing and content to share her body but had to protect what was left of her heart at all costs. Had to manage the guilt of betraying Michael’s memory. Had to march onwards and upwards on a different path now that she had stopped numbly marking time. One which embraced both life and her womanhood but that she trod resolutely alone. ‘I certainly don’t. As much as I like you as a friend, Rafe, I have no desire to pursue a romantic relationship with anyone ever again. I have done that. That ship has long since sailed, and I likely would not survive another shipwreck.’
Unexpected tears pricked her eyes. Tears for the love that she had lost and tears for the love she had to deny herself. She blinked them away and strapped on some bravado, hoping the deep, unexpected and empty feeling of regret would ebb as quickly as it surged. ‘Besides, I sincerely doubt a guarded cynic like you harbours any thoughts of for ever, do you?’
‘Of course not!’ But for a moment she thought she saw a flash of hurt skitter across his beguiling bright blue eyes before he shuddered in mock disgust. ‘Perish the thought. I am still wedded to a life in the middle of nowhere, as far away from the disappointing human race as it is physically possible to be. I’d probably buy an island if one were for sale.’ He smiled but it did not touch his eyes. ‘And rest assured I am still determined to offload this blasted mausoleum and whinging Whittleston-on-the-Water as soon as is humanly possible. I’ve always preferred horses to people.’
She chuckled as she was supposed to even though it sounded hollow to her ears. ‘I am glad we cleared the air, Rafe.’ Except it did not feel cleared at all. It now felt thick and dense like the worst winter fog on the banks of the Thames.
‘Me too. I can sleep soundly now, safe in the knowledge that you do not expect a ring on your finger and I have been spared the snapping teeth of the parson’s trap.’
Her errant pulse quickened at the thought. ‘My honour was not impugned, Captain Peel, so please absolve yourself of all misplaced obligation for it is neither necessary nor desired.’
‘Splendid.’ He smiled as he rocked on his heels. ‘Good to know.’
‘Indeed.’ Now what? She loathed the new awkwardness which lingered between them. Loathed it and wished she knew how to fix it. Fortunately, like the noble knight in shining armour that he was, Rafe rushed in to save her.
‘So...’ He raised his good arm and gestured to the door. ‘Exactly how did you get that puppy to choose the name Fred?’ As she slid her hand through his elbow, he began to lead her to the stairs, pausing to snuff out the lamp on the mantel. ‘Spill your secrets, witch.’
‘It wasn’t witchcraft, if that is what you are implying, more a little strategic common sense based on sound recognisance.’ If he could behave as if nothing cataclysmic had happened, so could she. ‘Surely as a decorated soldier you must understand that it is entirely possible to win a battle before it has even begun—so long as you’ve planned it correctly. Which I, as the superior strategist here, did with meticulous precision.’ She let go of his arm at the foot of the stairs to waft a regal hand in the air. ‘But then some of us were born to lead and others rise only as far as their own incompetence will allow, Captain Peel.’ She offered him her sauciest shrug as she skipped up the steps.
She had barely gone two feet when he caught her hand and spun her back, then gripped it tight in case she tried to escape. ‘Don’t make me torture the answer out of you. After a decade fighting fiercer foes than you, I know many ways to make the enemy talk.’ He leaned closer. Close enough that she could smell the spicy scent of his shaving soap. Close enough that she could feel the heat of his big body and not just where their hands touched. ‘Many, many ways.’ His deep blue eyes swirled with amused challenge. ‘And do not think for one minute I shall let you get one wink of sleep before I have received proper satisfaction.’ Which all sounded scandalously wonderful to Sophie because her wayward mind instantly pictured him in the throes of passion on the cusp of receiving just that. She pictured herself on the cusp again too. Something else her wayward mind had been conjuring up since last night and her overwhelming impulse to kiss him.
She almost sighed aloud as she stared up into them. Those sinful blue eyes were deadly weapons and once again she was unarmed. ‘Do your worst, Captain Peel, for I shall never talk.’
Good heavens above, now she was flirting. Flirting and courting danger when she knew she should avoid it. Yet here she was, sashaying up the stairs so that her hips wiggled in stark invitation, willing him to follow. ‘Nothing you can say or do will ever make me tell you how I slipped out of dinner for a few moments to retrieve the piece of the expensive smoked salmon I hid during luncheon. Nor will I ever let slip how I ruthlessly rubbed the back of the piece of paper emblazoned with the name Fred with that same piece of salmon before I shuffled it back in the pack. Or make any mention of how I then fed little Fred his first morsel of that sublime salmon to give him the taste of it because I knew he would have his father’s keen nose.’
‘You sabotaged the election.’
‘On the contrary, Captain Peel. Everything I did was to ensure you not end up with a giant male dog called Mary.’
‘So you cheated for me?’
‘I prefer to think of it as an act of selfless charity because you needed my help and clearly needed my assistance.’
‘I see. You are more Good Samaritan than a sneaky saboteur.’
‘Of course. I am more saint than sinner, as you well know.’ She stopped directly outside his bedchamber door and leaned against it like the most brazen, unsubtle hussy. ‘If you ask me nicely, Captain Peel, I would be only to happy to assist you again...because I cannot help noticing that the knot your sleeping brother tied in that cravat looks awfully, awfully tight.’
