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CHAPTERTWENTY
Fergus lay awake in his bed, unable to sleep, thinking about his conversation with Edwina. He had been afraid to tell her anything about his mother but not because he distrusted her. Seeing his mother’s portrait or thinking of her only reminded him of when he held her lifeless body in his arms after she died.
The images flashed through his mind, juxtaposed against Edwina’s fresh and radiant face and how her dress clung to her body, soaked to transparency. The thoughts conflicted him, coupling grief and desire. He was sure the great philosophers would enjoy analyzing his mind.
A soft rap came at his door but not the main one, the side door between his and Edwina’s rooms. He scrambled to grab his mask from his bedside, and as he tied it on, he called out, “Come!”
The door pushed open, and Edwina came through, dressed in only her shift, a candlestick in her hand. The light flickered over her face, casting long shadows across her cheeks and glowing in her hair. He could just barely see the outline of her body underneath her shift. Her ethereal glow reminded him of an angel.
“Is everything all right?” he breathed, struggling to find his voice as he watched her.
“Were you asleep?” she asked softly, coming closer to his bed.
“No,” he told her. Fergus watched breathlessly as she sat on the edge of his bed and lit the candles on his bedstand with her candle, each movement delicate and seductive. She kept sneaking glances at him, her eyelashes fluttering in the darkness. When she took her bottom lip between her teeth, he had to keep from letting out a pained exhale of desire.
“What are you doing?” he asked gently. Edwina’s shift fell off one shoulder, exposing her beautiful pale skin. Her blonde hair fell in a braid over her shoulder like a distaff of flax. He wanted to trace his fingers across her skin and taste her body beneath his lips. He could not deny that he wanted Edwina in his bed, but he tried to temper his expectations, unable to consider that she might desire him.
So, he stared at her as though she spoke some foreign language when she said, “I am ready to consummate our marriage.” She watched him, waiting for his reaction, a frown deepening her brow. “Did you hear me?”
“You want to lay with me?” he breathed in disbelief. Then, his body came to life, hearing her words, even though his mind refused to believe them. His blood rushed through his veins, and his member twitched beneath the sheets. Even though he wanted to take her waist and pull her underneath him, he hesitated.
“I have thought about it, and I am ready,” she explained. Her face looked serious — too serious for talking about consummation. They could have been discussing purchasing a horse for all her face showed desire or passion.
“You are sure?” he asked again though he wondered why. He had told Edwina he wanted something like a business arrangement, no kissing, no touching. He regretted saying it now because all he wanted to do was kiss and touch her. He wanted to make love to her. He could not imagine laying with her without emotion.
She nodded assuredly. “But I have one condition.”
“Tell me,” he said breathlessly.
“I want you to take your mask off.”
He gulped, his desire quickly abating. “You want me to leave it off while we…”
“Yes,” she said, nodding again. “I want to see all of you.”
“I do not think you realize what you are asking,” he protested, shaking his head. He felt a chill rush through his body, and he could not have previously imagined how quickly his passion could be erased. “I can assure you, you will not want to see me like this. I am hideous.”
“I got a glimpse once,” she explained, reaching over to take his hand. “I know what I ask of you. You are not hideous. But you must see, if you want all of me, I want to have all of you. I want there to be nothing between us. I want you to know that you can trust me.”
He took a shaky breath. Edwina sought his gaze, trying to show him her earnestness, but his heart hammered in his chest. Slowly, he reached up to his face to untie his mask, hands shaking. As it came away, he held the mask against his face and lowered it slowly, afraid to see her reaction. Then, when he was sure she had seen him and had not said anything, he finally looked up.
Her eyes were wide, but her expression did not look horrified or disgusted. Instead, she reached out tentatively and touched the side of Fergus’ face, her fingers soft against the thick scars that ran from his hairline to his chin. He could not remember the last time that anyone touched the side of his face.
“How did it happen?” she whispered then shook her head. “If you do not mind sharing.”
He hesitated only a moment, trying to think how to tell her most simply. “It was a bombardment with cannons. I was in the cavalry during the war in France. I do not remember much now, just fire and shrapnel everywhere. They said they found me on the battlefield, nearly dead, two days later.”
Edwina took his hand, holding it comfortingly, encouraging him to go on with her kind expression. She caressed his palm and wrist gently, slowly rekindling the desire he had felt when she first entered the room.
“They brought me home. I do not remember the ship over the sea nor the ride back to Hillow House. Simon and my mother tended to me for weeks before I could even get out of bed. When I finally came out of the daze, I was the Duke. A Duke disfigured by terrible scars.”
Edwina crawled further into the bed to take his face between her hands. The closer she came to him, the more he felt the warmth of her body, the more desire rushed through him. Her presence calmed him, reassured him, and started to make him feel like he was whole again.
“Do not be ashamed of your scars,” she whispered. “I am sure you fought valiantly, and you are a hero.”
“I am not sure about that,” he scoffed softly, trying to pull away from her, but she held him firmly.
“Fergus,” she whispered, staring into his eyes. His breath caught in his throat at the tender look she gave him. She did not pity him; she did not fear him. She cared for him, he realized, and he let out a long exhale before snaking his arm around her waist to pull him against him.
