Chapter Nine #2
She had kept fading in and out. She was in a warm bed, wrapped in a thick robe, and Jerome had gone.
I must have dreamed the whole thing. Tears had stung her eyes.
But then he was there again, shoving a full glass of amber liquid in her face.
She had drunk it. Spicy, fiery. It had sent warm tendrils outwards from her stomach and she sank back into the pillows.
Then he was beside her. Warm naked flesh. She’d pressed herself against him, hungry for his warmth. He wrapped an arm around her, pulled her in.
Then he was kissing her, and it was everything and far more than she had dreamed of. This is heaven.
*
“Ravenshaw!” the voice, insistent and loud, penetrated the thick fog of warmth he was sunk in.
There was a warm body snuggled into him and his eyes felt so heavy he couldn’t possibly open them, even if he wanted to.
And he didn’t want to. He didn’t want to leave this cocoon of warmth and comfort.
He snuggled down into the pillows, pulling the warm body closer.
But a hand pulled at him, shaking him.
“Damn it, Ravenshaw! Wake up!”
He jerked and blinked, staring up into the furious face of the Duke of Troubridge.
Fighting to a sitting position, he stared past Robert to Sarah standing behind him, a worried expression on her face. His head was throbbing, and his stomach felt uneasy.
“Rob!” a voice said next to him, and he turned his head and stared at the tousled blonde head and sweet, familiar face of Ava.
Ava! What the bloody hell? Ava in my bed?
He groaned out loud. What the fuck is Ava doing here?
Am I dreaming? No, this is more like a nightmare, with Robert glowering at me like that.
Memories of another time and place, with similar circumstances and tragic consequences, threatened to send him into a black pit of despair.
Oh, fuck no! Not again! Please let me be dead!
The horrible irony of it would have been funny if it weren’t so tragic.
Ava sat up, pulling his banyan more tightly around her and pushing a tangle of blonde curls off her face.
“Rob, what are you doing here?”
“We came to take you home, Ava. Of all the crazy, stupid things you have done in your life, this has to be the worst! If we can’t hush this up, the scandal will ruin your sister’s chances before she has even been presented!
Honestly, your thoughtless selfishness astounds me sometimes!
This is not a childish prank you can beg forgiveness for! ”
Jerome bridled at Robert’s chastising tone toward Ava and opened his mouth to defend her when the duke turned his ire on him.
“And as for you Ravenshaw, if it wouldn’t make bad worse, I’d call you out for ruining my sister.
I didn’t know what to expect when we arrived, but to find you like this—” Words appeared to fail him, and the pain in his eyes smote Jerome to the heart.
This man was like a brother to him and to have betrayed his trust like this made him feel physically ill.
Bits of last night were coming back to him. God, what time is it? It was still dark outside, but the storm seemed to have blown itself out at last.
“It’s not what it looks like, Robert, I swear,” he said wearily.
At least he hoped it wasn’t. If it was, he didn’t remember it, and that would be a crying shame.
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! This was what he had dreaded, tried to avoid.
Now here he was, facing the same dilemma from eight years ago.
But this time surely it was different. And he could act differently.
He rubbed his face and pressed his eyes with his fingers, trying to make sense of the jumble of memories from last night.
“Ava arrived soaking wet, sometime in the middle of the night. I—I had to get her out of her clothes, she was soaked to the skin and—she fainted on my doorstep.” He looked up, stiffening his shoulders. “I was drunk. I honestly thought the whole thing was a dream.”
“You were drunk! And that is supposed to reassure me?” Robert’s voice rose and Jerome winced.
“No. No. I realize this is beyond the pale, but I didn’t intend—”
“It really doesn’t matter what you intended, Ravenshaw,” said Robert grimly. “Do I have to force you to do the honorable thing?”
“Of course not! I’ll marry her, of course I will.
” Ava gasped beside him. Jerome closed his eyes to stop the kaleidoscope in his head as past and present collided.
His heart lurched, and his stomach rolled over ominously.
Sweat broke out on his brow. This is different.
Completely different. He fought with his stomach for a moment and then, having mastered it, he opened his eyes.
“I owe Isabella an explanation of some kind. I—” He stopped and cleared his throat, conscious that Ava had stiffened beside him at the mention of the countess’s name.
“I should speak to her. I don’t wish to break things off by letter. ”
Robert nodded. “Very well. You go to London and sort out that mess. I’ll take Ava to The Castle. You can be married from there.”
“Rob—” Ava’s voice quavered.
“Get out of that bed now, Ava, and come with us. Where are your clothes?”
Ava looked to the pile of ruined garments by the hearth and Sarah trod over to pick them up.
“She can’t wear these, Robert. They are ruined, ripped, covered in mud, and still wet!” She turned to Ava with one of her gentle smiles. “I have clothes you can wear, my dear. They will be too long, but perhaps we can pin the hem up and—well, we will manage somehow. Come with me.”
Ava cast Jerome a look he couldn’t read. Half fearful, half pleading, he thought. She slid out of the bed, clutching his banyan, and followed Sarah to the door. When the women had left, Jerome slumped back against the pillows for a moment in relief. Then he cast off the bedclothes and stood up.
“If you hurt her, I swear I will—” said Robert tightly.
Jerome cut him off, arrested in his trajectory toward the basin and ewer. “I would never hurt her. You have my word on that.”
The two men stared at each other for a full minute in silence, and then Robert’s rigid posture eased as if he had seen something in Jerome’s eyes that reassured him. “Very well.”
Jerome continued onto the dresser where he poured cold water into the bowl and dunked his aching head.
Toweling his head and face dry, he said, “This is precisely the thing I was trying to avoid, Rob. It’s why I offered for Isabella.”
“Do you love Isabella?”
“No. I respect and esteem her, but no, I don’t love her. I hoped I would come to feel affection for her in time—” He let out a breath.
“And Ava?”
Jerome swallowed and said quietly. “I love her with all my heart.”
Robert looked at him for a moment and then came and hugged him. “Then you will care for her as she should be cared for.”
“I’ll try my damnedest.”
“You’d better, or I’ll put your balls in a vice and turn the screw!”
Jerome’s lips twisted in a half smile. It was an old joke. He turned back to the bowl to wash the rest of him and Robert said, “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You warned me off, remember? Two years ago.” And you don’t know what happened with Charis Dunsenay. If you did, you’d not let me near your precious sister.
“God, yes. Well, I wanted her to marry someone younger. You’ve been like a brother to her. It seemed obscene.”
“Precisely! Do you think I haven’t thought that myself? I didn’t choose it. I just—couldn’t help it!” Jerome plunged the cloth in the water and rinsed it. Which was the truth he’d struggled with the for the past two years. God help me, I tried!
“Yes, well, it’s to be hoped you can keep her from disgracing the family name, because I sure as hell can’t. On refection, Haldane wouldn’t have been able to either. She’d have led him a merry dance. He’s by far too sweet tempered.”
Jerome lathered up his chin and set the razor to his skin.
He felt a strange lightness of being taking possession of his body.
He’d been steeped in misery for so long.
The feeling was foreign, and it took him a while to recognize it.
It was burgeoning happiness. Ava is mine.
A smile broke out across his face as he stared in the mirror. Ava is going to be my wife.