Chapter 36
thirty-six
Effie had been too quick at offering her help with Rowan. Harris had told them Rowan had gone to the stables, and she’d been hopeful at first, thinking that talking with Rowan among the horses would be easy.
But the moment she stepped into the stable and saw Rowan’s grim face, she doubted she could convince him to talk to his brother.
Balancing on one crutch, he was brushing Zeus’s mane without enthusiasm. She glanced behind her. Tristan was talking with the stable master, his posture slacking now and then, likely due to the pain. No groom was close, so she and Rowan could talk undisturbed.
“Good morning, Rowan.” She stroked Zeus’s muzzle, and he replied with cooing, happy noises.
“Lady Effie. Zeus is in great shape,” Rowan said.
“How’s your leg?”
He set the crutch aside and stood on his own two feet. “I can put my weight on it, but not for long, and at night it hurts.”
She handed him the crutch back. “Tristan told me you’re angry with him.”
His expression hardened in the same way Tristan’s would. She hadn’t noticed how similar the two brothers were when angry until now.
“I guess you know what he does to himself,” he whispered.
“I’m trying to help him stop, and your help would be much appreciated.”
He put down the comb and caressed Zeus’s neck. “He doesn’t need me. He never has.”
“You’re wrong. You mean the world to him.”
“Then it has to be a very small world.”
“Give him the chance to show you how much he cares.”
Rowan took the other crutch. “He had many chances, but he never told me the truth about my mother. I’m tired of being treated as if I didn’t exist.”
“You’re wrong. Tristan loves you very much. He didn’t talk about your mother because he wanted to protect you.”
“You’re very good, Lady Effie, but I don’t trust him. If you’ll excuse me, I need to sit.” He walked away, brushing past Tristan, who had just stepped into the stable, without sparing him a glance.
Dealing with animals was easier, which was curious since she couldn’t share a conversation with them. Yet she understood a horse or a dog better than a human. Cats were a completely different matter, but Kettle could make himself clear when he wanted to.
Tristan joined her next to Zeus. The horse showed his delight by neighing happily and butting his head against his master’s hand.
“Zeus adores you,” she said.
“I wonder why.” He kissed Zeus’s muzzle.
“Because you show him your love.”
He lowered his gaze. “No luck with Rowan, I guess.”
“No. He thinks you don’t care about him. I told him he’s wrong, but he’s hurting, and I believe it doesn’t have anything to do with you.”
“In a way it does.”
A while ago, she would have mistaken his blank expression for disinterest, but she knew him better now. He was hurting, too, deeply.
She laced her fingers through his. “I wish I could be more helpful.”
He drew in a breath at her touch, staring at her with his usual intensity. “You’re more helpful than you think.” His gaze dropped to her lips, and just like that, she was tingling all over, aching for his kiss.
She rose on her tiptoes and was an inch away from his lips before remembering where she was. The stable master was a few feet away, and the groom could appear at any moment.
“What am I doing?” She lowered her heels and stepped away from him.
He didn’t take his gaze off her. “Now you know how I feel every time I see you.”
She let out a nervous chuckle, her cheeks warming. “It’s powerful.”
“Trust me. I understand.”
“I would really like to kiss you,” she whispered.
He took her hand and gazed around, suddenly quick and agile. “Say no more.” He led her towards the end of the stall.
“Where are we going?”
“Where I can kiss you without being disturbed.” He paused before pushing a door open and released her hand. “You can either go or follow me.” The hope she said yes rang out of his voice.
She’d made up her mind ten minutes ago. “Let’s go.”
Her heart raced when he showed a wicked smile. He held the door open for her and let her into a storage room filled with sacks of grains and stable tools. The smell of wood and hay thickened the air. Sunlight sneaked in through the gaps between the wooden planks of the walls.
He locked the door behind them, and the click caused a thrill to course through her. She shouldn’t find being compromised so exciting.
“And now?” She pulsed and ached everywhere as he took her waist and lifted her, only to sit her on a worktable.
The effort must have hurt him, judging by how he grimaced for a split second.
And that was the last rational thought she had before he pried open her legs and nestled between them with the confidence of someone who belonged there.
She had time to draw in a deep breath as he cupped her face and kissed her hard.
Her legs tightened around him on pure instinct, and her back arched of its own accord. The tip of his tongue slid past her lips, and she didn’t hesitate to open her mouth for him.
Anticipation urged her closer to him. She ran her palms over his chest without pressing too hard on his bruises, but his muscles tightened like ropes in reply. He slid a hand under her skirts and stroked her thigh.
In her past, there had been a few handsome boys living close to her house.
But she’d never, ever seen such intense desire for her in a man’s gaze or felt such desire in a touch. Tristan’s blue eyes burnt from the inside out for her only.
Even through her stocking, his warmth and strength reached her core.
He caressed her with devotion. His breathing quickened, but his caresses slowed. Each gentle stroke and brush of his lips against hers made her tremble.
His fingertips went up along her thigh and teased the garter. Then they trailed down, sending shivers through her body. Then up again towards her sensitive inner thigh.
Desire caused her to tense. The wait for him to touch her had a bittersweet taste. He paused and stared at her as if asking for her permission. She was bold enough to widen her legs a few inches.
He let out a groan of pleasure as he resumed his exploration. But he had no intention of being quick. He traced the curve of her thigh, taking his time. Should she beg him or urge him to speed up? The combination of longing and slowness was difficult to handle.
“Please,” she said, not caring about begging.
“Anything you want.” He sounded rough and husky, and she loved it.
A gasp tore out of her when he finally headed where it ached the most. The fabric of her drawers chafed her skin all of a sudden, and the air was too hot. He rubbed a delicate spot on her inner thigh that surely hadn’t existed until a moment ago.
He stared at her as he slipped past the opening of her drawers. Her toes curled. The touch was so delicate and small, but the pleasure was so strong that her head spun.
Every other sensation that wasn’t Tristan’s gentle touch vanished. Each stroke of his thumb sent goose pimples everywhere through her body. She wanted him to feel what she felt. So she slipped her hand between them, even though she wasn’t sure about what to do.
“Guide me,” she whispered. “Teach me.”
“You’re killing me,” he said in all seriousness.
Without removing his delectable hand, he opened the falls of his trousers and gently slid her hand through.
They both exhaled when she touched him. He showed how to stroke him while rubbing her.
And suddenly the emotions were too much for her body.
Between him touching her and she touching him, her skin became extremely sensitive and the temperature too high.
When he added another finger, she couldn’t contain the burst of pleasure building up. She had barely time to clamp a hand over her mouth before a scream came out of her. He groaned deep in his throat, resting his forehead on her shoulder.
She sagged back, panting and wondering how she could lead a normal life after that monumental shift in her world.
He inched his hand out of her skirt, scattering kisses on her heated face. He wiped himself with his handkerchief, and she was too stunned and dizzy with happiness to offer help.
He kissed her again. Somehow, his musk was more intense than before.
“You’re so beautiful I have no defence against you. Your kindness and brightness conquered every dark spot within me. I have nothing else to surrender. My heart is yours.”
She didn’t know how to reply to that, still reeling from the release. “Tristan, I’m yours.”
He adjusted her skirts, exhaling. “I didn’t plan for this. I didn’t want you to experience this in a stable.”
“I forgot we were in a stable.”
“Still, I can offer something better if you want.”
“I do,” she said before she could think, but she didn’t need to. “I trust you, Tristan.”
He took her face and kissed her again with passion and determination, and she returned both of them because she wanted him as much as he wanted her.
She had no doubts about that.