19. CHAPTER 19
T he nightmares returned the moment Dalton left, as though his presence alone had kept them at bay. Which was its own bitter irony, because for the first time the face of the man who hunted her through her dreams was clear.
It was Dalton's.
The same face that watched her across the breakfast table each morning. The mouth that had kissed her in the folly as though nothing else existed. Those hands — the ones that had caught her when she stumbled on the garden path, and held her a breath too long.
How could he be such a tender, considerate, and caring husband, and also the tormentor in her nightmares? It made little sense, but it was not the first time she had sensed her nightmares were tied to him.
She sat up, drawing the counterpane around her shoulders.
The wooden door in the kitchen beckoned.
Calling her to explore it. She had felt that pull since the castle tour.
The way her pulse had tripped when she first saw it, as if her body recognized what her mind could not reach.
Old service passages, Dalton had said, and she had known he was lying with the same certainty that made her reach for the correct fork at dinner, that made her hum melodies she had no memory of learning.
The corridors in her dreams matched something real. A chill ran through her, and it had nothing to do with the night air. Behind that door were the answers to this conundrum. She was sure. The explanation for this dichotomy she sensed in her husband's character .
What if she discovered he was not the man she believed him to be? What if the lover who had trembled when he pulled away from their kiss was a performance? She had begun to care for him. In these few short weeks, he had become the foundation upon which she was rebuilding everything.
If that foundation were false, nothing would survive it.
And yet. Was it not better to know now, before it was too late? What if there were some horrible secret buried in her past? What if her first instinct of fear for her past life, which had made her hide away, afraid to find answers for seven years, had been correct?
She needed to find out. Right now. There might never be another opportunity like this one.
He was away. If she found something that compelled her to run away, tonight was the best chance to do it.
Before he came back. Even thinking about leaving him made her want to burrow back into her bed and ignore the nightmares.
But ignoring the signs had not protected her before. She must be brave and face reality.
Moonlight flooding through the window provided enough illumination to see the time on the clock above the mantel.
Ten minutes past four in the morning. Soon the kitchens would stir.
The baker kneading dough. Scullery maids stoking fires, cooks laying out provisions.
She would never pass through that door undetected once the household woke.
The time to act was now.
She threw off the counterpane before her nerve could fail. Grabbing an oil lamp that was always left by the bedside table, she lit it using a match. Then she threw on her robe, donned her slippers, and slipped out of her room silently.
D alton rested his head against the edge of the bath and took a deep breath, eyes closed, letting the warmth of the water work the tension out of him.
He was so lovesick for his wife that, rather than spend the night in London as any sensible man would, he had finished his tasks early and started home a full day ahead of schedule.
He was a fool. He could have slept tonight in his London mansion, caught the morning express from Paddington, in his own private train carriage as he had originally arranged, and arrived at the castle in the evening, rested and put-together.
Instead, he had taken an afternoon train, made three awkward connections, traveled half the way in accommodations beneath his station, added at least three hours to the journey, and arrived home in the middle of the night, tired, dusty, and disheveled. All to steal a few more hours with his wife.
He smiled.
It was worth it. If it meant he got to meet her for breakfast. Got to take her for a stroll around the gardens in the afternoon.
Oh yes. He was well and truly besotted with his wife. But that was nothing new. The surprising thing was that this time, the vulnerability, the potential for pain that his feelings engendered, did not cause outright panic in his chest, only a small twinge.
Nothing was settled between them. There were complex issues to resolve.
Her trust to earn. Her love to reclaim. But for the first time in his adult life, hope was eclipsing fear.
Especially after last week. Maybe that was the real reason he had rushed back home.
He did not want to risk losing the ground they had gained.
The ease they had found together. Especially after that kiss.
By God, he could still feel the softness of her plump lips against his. Taste the warm honey of her mouth. The kiss was never far from the forefront of his mind. Intruding at inopportune times. And making him ache to repeat it.
His thoughts had the predictable effect on his body, and he reached down to provide the comfort he had not allowed himself to take from her body.
A small sound coming from her room startled him to attention.
It was the soft creak of a floorboard. But it had been enough for his always-on-alert senses to notice.
A faint light shone from under her door.
His wife was awake at — he glanced at the mantel clock — just past four in the morning?
A soft shuffle of slippers and the light moved away.
She was leaving her room. What on earth?
He rose from the bath dripping water and ran to the door that led to the hallway, not even bothering to grab a towel. Vivienne, clad only in her robe and slippers and clutching an oil lamp, disappeared around the hallway corner just as he peeked out.
He almost instinctively gave chase before reason asserted itself.
He was naked, hard, and dripping with water.
And she could not be going far. She was wearing her nightclothes and slippers, for goodness' sake.
She probably woke in the middle of the night and decided to go down to the library for a book, or to the kitchen for a nibble to eat.
He would dry himself, put on proper clothes, and then seek her out and join her.