Chapter 9 #2
“Get some sleep. Tomorrow we have much to do.” He tucked her body against his and she let him, loving the way he held her so close.
He was the one comforting, familiar thing in the strange new world that was to be her home.
She could let him hold her for one night.
Surely it wouldn’t risk her heart, not one night…
Owen held on to Milly, counting her dark eyelashes and humming inside with pleasure as she surrendered to sleep in his arms and his bed.
To woo a woman was easy, but to woo one’s own wife?
That was another feat entirely. She was too skittish, ready to bolt at the first hint of being hurt.
That was the last thing on earth he wished to do to her.
She’d gotten hurt tonight. Losing her virginity hadn’t been painless, but she’d gotten through it, the poor girl. Now she was on the other side, a woman who’d tasted pleasure in a man’s arms.
I just have to convince her to trust me.
He’d known from the start she saw him as a ruthless fortune hunter bent only on taking a woman’s money.
But that wasn’t who he was, not deep down, and he needed her to know the real him because if she did…
she might come to love him, and that mattered.
Life had forced him to marry for money but that’s not what he had truly ever wanted for himself.
He didn’t want a loveless marriage like his parents had.
She burrowed closer, clinging to him, pressing her cheek against his shoulder. The feel of her lying skin to skin with him was oddly harmonious, like a chord on a pianoforte. Different, yet when blended together, it felt right.
“I want to keep you, Milly,” he whispered softly enough that she didn’t stir.
“And what a challenge that will be, eh?” He knew enough of her now to realize tonight was only a small victory in the battle to win her.
Milly was infinitely complex. Unbelievable lovemaking would not be enough to tame her or ease her fears of rejection or mockery.
To woo her, he would need to be careful, considerate, kind, and yet never allow her to gain an inch in the battle that lay between them.
If this was to be a happy marriage, he would have to get his wife to fall in love with him.
A month ago, he would have laughed at the impossible task and walked away, but he couldn’t do that.
Not after the promise he made to her father and the promise he made to himself.
There will be happiness in this marriage.
He tugged the blankets up around them and let sleep claim him. But the dreams were never far behind. The dreams of darker days and hellish nights during the war. Such things were always running just beneath the surface of his mind and in the corners of his heart.
He’d only just closed his eyes when old memories surged up around him. Choking him.
The blazing sun scorched his skin, the buzz of flies around the bodies, carrion birds hopping among the corpses, picking at decaying flesh.
His own hands stained with blood, too slick to maintain the hold of his rifle.
He clawed his way through the African underbrush, unable to see his troops.
There was only blood and death…and silence.
That was the worst part after a battle. When the crack of guns and boom of cannons had died and the fog of war had been blown away by the breeze…
silence was all that was left. Owen tried to fight off the rising panic.
His men had left him behind to die. He would die.
A few more hours with no water, no food, no shelter from a merciless sun.
“God forgive me for my sins,” he muttered, his voice hoarse.
Something jostled his shoulder and he jerked up violently, finding himself back in the dark firelight bedchamber of Wesden Heath. Not Africa. The war was over. His hands were clean. He lifted his palms up, studying them in the dim light.
“What’s the matter?” Milly asked. “You were thrashing about in your sleep. Are you all right?”
He braced his arms on his raised knees as he caught his breath. His lungs were still burning as though he’d been struggling for air.
“It’s the—” He paused, realizing he’d been about to confess his deepest shame.
He’d told her once before about the dreams, but he hadn’t told her how deeply they affected him.
How he feared closing his eyes sometimes at night because he was terrified of what he would see.
A man shouldn’t admit to fear, especially not to a woman.
She would think he was incapable of protecting her.
“What?” she pressed.
“Just a dream,” he finally said. “I’m sorry I woke you.”
“Just a dream?” Milly echoed. “It was a nightmare about the war, wasn’t it?”
He couldn’t answer that; the admission would be too much of a weakness.
An elegant hand settled on his shoulder, the touch sweet and comforting. When had any woman ever treated him like this? A touch that wasn’t meant to entice or seduce. It made him hungry for her even more, just thinking about the kind heart she kept hidden from the world beneath her tough exterior.
I’m beginning to understand you, wife. He almost smiled. Almost. Instead he covered her hand with his, giving it a gentle squeeze before he let go.
“You should try to sleep.” She stroked his hair out of his eyes and he sighed at the way it felt.
“There can’t be any more nightmares,” she whispered close to his ear. “Not when you come home. This is a safe place, your own room, your own bed.” She surprised him by placing a kiss on his cheek and then she pulled him back down in his bed beside her, curling her body around his.
He did feel safe. As though her words had cast a spell over him, one of peace and trust.
I’m home. Not in Africa. The war is over. I’m home. When he pulled the blankets back up, he rolled to face Milly. Her eyelids had fallen to half-mast and she put a fist over her mouth to stifle a little yawn.
Was she afraid to be here? In a strange land, in a strange bed, with a stranger?
The woman was so brave, and she was only doing her duty, as many hundreds of thousands of women had done before.
How foolish he’d been to think women knew nothing of suffering or fear or sacrifice.
And Milly hadn’t had to say a word to show him where her strength lay.
“I’m so sorry I woke you.” He found himself apologizing again.
“Don’t apologize,” she murmured sleepily. “I’m glad I could offer some comfort as you have done for me.”
A thousand words rested on the tip of his tongue, but he had no bravery of his own to say them.
Instead, he cupped her chin and lifted her face up to press a lingering kiss on her lips, savoring this quiet moment just between the two of them.
Tomorrow would come soon enough and with it, another battle to win her heart.