Chapter 15
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“Yes, it is.”
Giovanni looked down at Beatrice, holding his breath, his body tense. He tried to read the expressions flittering across her face, but it was like trying to capture butterflies. They were moving too fast.
“I’m sorry,” Giovanni said, rubbing a tendril of her hair through his fingers. It had dried out from the rain and had now returned to its usual softness. It relaxed him just to lie here with her, to touch her and be comforted.
“I hope you’re not angry with me,” he admitted quietly.
“I’m not,” Beatrice looked up at him, gently rubbing her hand against his shoulder. “I understand now.”
“What do you mean?” Giovanni whispered.
“I mean that I understand why you push me away,” Beatrice’s eyes rested on his throat. “I understand that you are afraid to risk what you have.”
Giovanni breathed a sigh of complete relief, unable to stop himself from leaning forward to press a kiss against her forehead.
“What we have, the three of us together, is so precious to me,” Giovanni murmured into her hair.
“And now Anna and Caleb,” Beatrice added.
“Yes, Anna and Caleb, too,” Giovanni smiled, rubbing his cheek against her silky hair. “But you and Silas have been with me for so long. I don’t know what I would do without you.”
“You would never be without us,” Beatrice murmured into his chest, nestling closer. “Never.”
Giovanni loved her innocence, the way she was so confident that nothing would change them, but he knew different.
“All Silas has ever wanted in this life is to ensure you are safe and protected,” Giovanni whispered. “The best way for him to provide you with those things is to find the perfect match for you.”
“He doesn’t know what I want,” Beatrice’s voice was muffled as she spoke into the soft linen of his shirt. “He doesn’t know what’s best for me.”
“He knows how to keep you safe, Bea, and...” Giovanni took a rattling breath. “All we want is for you to be safe.”
“You could keep me safe,” Beatrice pressed her nose into the small patch of naked skin on his throat. “You know you could.”
“Only so far.” Giovanni closed his eyes and squeezed her tightly. He loved the feeling of having her so close, and it took away some of the pain of his words. “I’m nothing, Beatrice. I’m no one. I only have my fists and wits, and both are depleting with age.”
“That’s because it’s different now,” Beatrice’s hand gripped the front of his shirt. “You’ve been out of that life for so long.”
“Exactly, Silas and I have both fought so hard to leave that life behind, to make your future as secure and safe as it could possibly be,” Giovanni swallowed hard. “I cannot help the feeling that I am betraying him every time I touch you.”
“I understand,” Beatrice sighed sadly. Her warm breath tickled his chin delightfully. “I worry about it, too.”
“Really?” Giovanni was surprised. He remembered her lack of concern in the library when he had voiced his worry that Silas would catch them. “You have not seemed so worried in the past.”
Beatrice chuckled into his shoulder, shaking her head. “I know. I know I’ve been impetuous. But I do worry about it too.”
“What do you worry about?” Giovanni chuckled back, stroking her hair.
“I worry about disappointing Anna,” Beatrice said quietly. He could tell from her hesitation that these were not easy things for her to say. “I worry about not living up to their expectations of me. I want to make them happy, but I fear disappointing them.”
“Bea, you could never disappoint them,” Giovanni pressed another kiss to her forehead unthinkingly, trying to comfort her.
“But I would… if I married for my own choice,” Beatrice whispered.
She spoke so softly that Giovanni almost didn’t hear her.
He didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t deny what he had already said.
A good marriage was what Silas and Anna wanted for Beatrice.
It was what Giovanni wanted for her, too.
He only wished that he could be the one to provide it for her.
“It’s so unfair,” Beatrice said. Giovanni could feel the tinge of fury in her voice, the edge of tears breaking through. “Silas married who he wanted.”
“He didn’t, really,” Giovanni reminded her gently. “He married Anna for her title.”
“Yes, but he loves her,” Beatrice exclaimed, pulling her face away to look up at him with slightly wet eyes. “And she loves him, and when I see the two of them together, I can’t help but be envious.”
“Of what?” Giovanni stroked a wayward curl away from her forehead. “Of their love?”
“Not just their love,” Beatrice huffed. “Their partnership, their friendship, their intimacy.”
“Intimacy?” Giovanni couldn’t help the word blurting out of his mouth. He felt himself blushing bright red, despite knowing that Beatrice was more than capable of demonstrating intimacy. “What do you mean by that?”
“Come on, Gio,” Beatrice pushed him a little resentfully. “I know what goes into making a child.”
“How do you know?” Giovanni stared down at her in amazement. “Who told you?”
“No one told me,” Beatrice scoffed, “but I didn’t grow up like other ladies, did I? I saw things...” she trailed off and raised her eyebrows. “Heard things...”
“Heard things?” Giovanni instantly began to run through all the times he had brought a girl back to his room in the little apartment he and Silas and Beatrice had lived in whilst staying in Paris. Had he ever done it when Beatrice might have heard? He found himself flushing.
“Relax,” Beatrice laughed, affectionately petting the side of his face. “It was not you; it was just life. You forget that when Silas and I left our parents' house, we did not have the luxury of being picky about where we lived.”
Giovanni knew the difficulties Silas had faced when he was only a young adolescent and was solely responsible for Beatrice’s welfare.
“But Silas always protected you,” Giovanni reasoned.
“He did.” Beatrice nodded. “I was always safe. His priority was that I was fed and clean and alive, not that I was a lady—not until later. So I have more knowledge than most unmarried ladies.”
Beatrice was playing with a piece of hair underneath his ear in a distinctively distracting way.
“Consequently, I have more of an idea of what I might desire. What I wish I could try.”
Her voice was less than a whisper, barely more than a breath, but Giovanni felt each word as if he had been punched in the heart. He felt like he had stopped breathing, yet the rest of his body felt wildly alive with desire.
Don’t take the bait, don’t ask her. If you ask her, you know what will happen?—
“These are all things your husband can do with you,” Giovanni swallowed hard. “You shall have a child?—”
“Those are not the things I am referring to,” Beatrice shook her head, tipping back to lie on her back, letting her arm fall above her head in a frustrated flop. “I am speaking of the things that do not make a child.”
“What would you know of those things?” Giovanni exclaimed. It was one thing for her to understand the nature of child-making between a man and a woman, but this was another thing entirely. It took him entirely by surprise.
“Don’t worry, they are not things I have done?—”
“I should hope not,” Giovanni muttered. “I expect you to be quite innocent.”
“You know I am not entirely innocent,” Beatrice retorted, raising her eyebrows at him significantly. Giovanni looked away. He couldn’t fault her there. She was not entirely untouched, and that was only due to him.
“So, how do you know, little Bea?” He replied, poking her on the shoulder inquisitively.
“Because I pay attention, Gio!” Beatrice poked him back in the ribs. “I know that when light-skirts get caught on the dark walk or in the greenhouse, they are kissing and doing things, but they are not bare, are they? They are not making children, they are doing other things.”
Giovanni felt a wave of affection for Beatrice, smiling inwardly that she assumed that a couple could only make love when they were naked. She was trying to demonstrate her worldliness, but she was only showing him how little she truly knew. It was adorable.
“Other things?” Giovanni smiled at her playfully. “Well, your husband might teach you those other things.”
“I know, but I want...” Beatrice seemed to be struggling with her words. She sighed deeply, her chest rising and her breasts pushing against the bust of her red dress.
“What do you want, Bea?”
Giovanni couldn’t help himself. He reached out and stroked a gentle line with his finger from her ear to the base of her throat. He saw her shiver and close her eyes.
“I want to experience those things... to feel those things with someone I have affection for, someone I’m attracted to.”
Giovanni barely had time to register the implication of her words and rejoice at the suggestion that she wasn’t attracted to Milton before she turned those dark hazel eyes to him.
“I want to experience it with you.” She took his hand, squeezing it softly. “Before I have to marry someone for whom I only feel half of what I feel for you. I want to know that passion with you.”
“Bea—”
“Hush.” Beatrice pressed a tantalizing finger against his lips, silencing his protests. He resisted the urge to kiss it. “Will you show me?”
Say no. You must say no. You promised you would not betray Silas; no matter what you feel, you cannot say yes.
“Yes,” Giovanni said.
Beatrice couldn’t believe he had said yes. She stared at him, blinking for a moment, with her finger pressed to his lips. She had felt so confident speaking her mind at that moment, but now that he had agreed, she felt herself beginning to tremble with anticipation.
“Oh,” she whispered, beginning to pull her finger away from his lips, but Giovanni’s hand grasped hers, squeezing softly.
“It seems like you’ve suddenly come over shy, Beatrice,” Giovanni scolded softly, teasingly lowering his mouth towards hers. He paused when he was just a hair’s breadth away from a kiss. “Should I stop?”