Chapter 20 #2
“Indeed. Often, clarity only comes with time. We cannot judge ourselves for the decisions we make during our foggiest trials. It is easy to see the path once it has already been trodden and forget the challenges we faced during the journey. Uncertainty and doubt can both hinder our progress and obscure our path. None of us is immune to it.”
A loud hiccup escaped me, and the tears began flowing again.
I had wanted to fall into Edward’s arms the moment he rescued me, but even then, I had not realized how much I needed his embrace, his words, his comfort.
I had not properly imagined how cherished I would feel nestled against his chest or how utterly I would crumble in the safety of his arms. The fears and burdens I carried still weighed on me, but they felt far less impossible to bear.
His breathing slowed to match my own, as did the steady drumming of his heart beneath my palm. He said nothing more with words, but I felt everything in his touch. His care for me was unmistakable, and that fact unleashed the flurry of feelings I had worked hard to subdue.
Feelings for Lieutenant Paget that I had neither expected nor wished for but could no longer deny. I was falling in love with him.
Drat it all.
I chuckled with derision, and Edward pulled me away from his chest. All my silent chastisement faded as I stared up at him. It was not so terrible a thing falling for this man, not now that I knew him better and we had ceased teasing one another.
A smile curled his lips. “I would not have guessed you were such a watering pot. Miss Apsley does nothing by halves, not even cry.”
Well, nearly ceased.
My nose scrunched, and I pushed against his chest to escape his hold, my cheeks heating. But Edward did not allow me to slip from his fingers, instead bringing me back against him, his expression contrite. “I did not mean it as a bad thing, Annette.”
“No, you only wished to mock me.” Even as I said them, I knew the words were untrue. His teasing had never been served maliciously.
“I merely wished to see you smile.” He reached a hand to my cheek and gently brushed away a lingering tear. My entire body shuddered, and if Edward noticed, he kept it to himself. “I do not mind drying your tears, but I would much rather see you happy.”
“Mr. Wilcot once said such sweet sentiments to Margaret. I doubt he cares overly much whether she is fighting tears or wearing smiles.”
Edward’s lips flattened. “I am not Mr. Wilcot. Not every man would treat a woman’s heart so callously. I hope you know that. Anyone can see the love between your parents. Your father would never demean his wife that way. Nor will I.”
Had the last words come out pointed, or had I imagined it?
I did not believe so, for the way he held my gaze left little room to doubt he had spoken them for me, not to me.
He wanted me to know he would treat his wife with respect and dignity, and flutters tickled my stomach at the reason he would insist I knew so.
He reached for me again, this time taking a strand of my hair that had come loose from my coiffure and rubbing it between his fingers. Given my struggle against Mr. Wilcot and the tears that followed, I could only imagine how disheveled I must look. Embarrassment flooded me, and my cheeks burned.
“I must be a sight,” I said, tucking my chin.
“You are always a sight. One I never grow tired of.”
My heart quickened its pace. That was not a confession, and I would do well not to linger on it.
“Forgive me if I doubt you,” I said, stepping back.
This time, his arms fell away, allowing me distance.
I missed the feel of them immediately—missed the warmth and security.
“I have seen the way you grimace when finding me in very unladylike states, sir. I have thoroughly scandalized you at times.”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “Scandalized? I think not.”
I stepped around him and returned to the ruined wall.
Running my bare fingers over the surface, I focused on the way bits of rock chipped away under my touch.
Little by little, the structure deteriorated.
How my life seemed to echo that sentiment.
The walls I had constructed around my heart were crumbling, especially at present, and just like the ruins, such collapse posed danger.
“Your appearance, nor your behavior, has never scandalized me, Annette.”
I startled and spun around to find Edward close again. So close, I could have gripped his coat and pulled him against me. The idea was far too tempting, and I pressed my back against the stone wall, along with my palms, to keep myself from acting on the impulse.
Edward, however, seemed to have no such objection, for he took another step toward me and rested one arm on the wall above my head.
He peered down at me, and that same intensity I had seen in his eyes in the alley in London appeared.
My gaze dropped to his lips, so near and accessible, and longing pulsed through me.
I was well aware of what it felt like to kiss this man.
The memory haunted me, and I desperately wanted to know whether a second kiss would produce the same passion, the same unquenchable desire.
“Then why did you seem so displeased?” I asked in an attempt to rein in my wandering mind. “I thought you were judging me and, quite frankly, hoped it would prove to be a deterrent. Make you want to avoid me.”
He chuckled again, the sound rumbling from deep in his chest. “Avoid you? No, Annette. You could not have been more mistaken. What you mistook for displeasure was a fight for restraint. A fight within myself to ignore my attraction and appreciation of your spirit.” He removed his gloves and stuffed them into his coat pocket before reaching up and extracting a pin from my hair.
Red strands cascaded over my shoulder. He proceeded to free them all, speaking as he did so, and each touch hindered my ability to take a full breath.
“I thought such things had no place in my life, that they were a distraction from my cause. But no matter how much I fight, you fill my thoughts from the mornings when I wake and well into the night—into my dreams. You, not the proper lady I met in London, but the one who rides bareback and swims in ponds.”
He placed the pins in his coat pocket. “The one whose kiss I cannot forget.”
His gaze fell to my lips, and my tongue ran over them in anticipation. Would he kiss me? I wanted him to, and the thought no longer frightened me.
“My maid will demand to know what happened to those pins,” I said when, to my disappointment, Edward maintained his distance.
“And what shall you tell her? That they were stolen by a man who desperately wanted to see this fire free of its confines.” He ran his fingers through my hair, then tucked a piece behind my ears.
My heart hammered. “That is sure to raise suspicions.”
“Perhaps, but it is the truth.”
“You are a thief, Lieutenant Paget.”
A lopsided smirk tugged at his mouth. He leaned closer, the movement slight but enough that his nose brushed mine. “No more than you, Miss Apsley. You’ve stolen my focus, among other things.”
Other things? My breath caught. I understood his fight for restraint—his efforts to ignore the pull between us.
I had tried in vain myself to abandon the feelings, the memories.
But they remained. They grew. Each moment spent in Edward’s company was another mark of change, an alteration to my plans.
And I had never felt more confident in allowing my resolve to transform.
He lifted his hand to cup my cheek. “Tell me I am not alone in my inability to forget. That you think about that day in the alley as much as I do.”
“Yes,” I confessed in a whisper. “I cannot forget it. Neither the kiss nor the desire to experience it again.”
His eyes dropped briefly to my lips, and his thumb slid over my cheek so tenderly I could not stop myself from closing my eyes and leaning into his touch.
“Is that permission to kiss you again?” His breath caressed my lips. His cologne, that scent that was so uniquely him—a mixture of sea and land—filled my senses. I dug my fingers into the wall behind me. It was all I could do to keep myself grounded and upright.
“You have it. My permission.”
His lips claimed mine in an instant, those few words like a broken dam, allowing him to pour every ounce of his longing and desire into the exchange.
And I returned it all with equal zeal, each press of his lips to mine deeper than the last. My hands left the wall and moved to his chest, gripping his coat.
Edward wrapped his arm around my waist, holding me to him, his hand splayed over the small of my back. The other found its way into my hair.
If the first kiss had not proven Edward’s ability for passion, this one certainly did, and I feared it would be even more haunting.
With every kiss, every touch, my longing to be with him grew.
Independence was not something I would relinquish, but if I could have both—if I could have freedom and Edward—then I would never lack for happiness. I would never be alone.
Edward trailed kisses along my jaw, then pressed one against the hollow of my neck. These were softer, tender, and just as unraveling. I sighed with contentment, lost to the euphoria of it all.
“Annette,” he whispered before pressing his lips again to my neck. “I wish to court you.”