Chapter Fourteen
“YOU MUST BE PREPARED to be watched and talked about today, Roses,” Wilkie said softly.
“I will keep you with me as much as I can, but there will times when I will be required to train, to discuss matters of our alliance with the Morrison and Munro armies, and to host our visitors. Fergus will guard you at all times. If you’d like to spend some time assisting Effie, it would give credence to your alibi, and my sisters will do their best to give you as much company as they can. ”
“I don’t need them to keep me company. I’m fine to entertain myself, and I can help them, and Effie, in any way they require.”
His hold on me remained equally as tight as when he’d held me during his fevered fugue, yet this hold was more complete, with his heavy limbs wrapped around me and his body tucked against mine.
During the night, I’d awoken more than once in the darkness to the intimate caresses of his mouth, his strong hands, his insistent hardness.
He spilled his seed into me many times, each release spurred by the rippling responses of my body to his bliss-inducing possession.
The night seemed as one long ride of beautiful sensation.
The ecstasy never faded, just rolled and undulated through wakefulness and sleep.
“I could have been more subtle about our departure from the gathering last night,” he said, rueful.
“Such is my desire for you, sweet. It blinds me to everyone and everything but you. You will most likely be questioned and engaged on the subject. ’Tis best to keep them guessing, for now.
My discussions with my brother are not yet resolved. But they will be, soon enough.”
“Whatever you ask, warrior. I will keep them guessing, then.”
“Now I’m going to pull myself from your body and wash you. Then you’ll dress in the adjoining chambers and come downstairs at your leisure. I will see you in a few hours.”
“All right.” I didn’t want him to pull himself from me or leave me. But I felt supremely peaceful. I was subdued with rapture, my body and mind so satiated I might have never known a care in the world.
He didn’t move immediately. Still on top of me, he kissed the tip of my nose.
“You’ve a light sprinkling of freckles here, across your nose and your cheeks.
” He made a point of kissing each one. “And here, across the tops of your beautiful breasts, as though you’ve been sun-kissed and dusted with gold.
” He continued his mapped exploration. “Your blond hair catches all the light in the room.” He swirled a strand of my hair around his finger, then he traced the feathery line of my eyebrow with his thumb.
“The glory of you, Roses. I have never known anything like it. I want to immerse myself in you forevermore. To follow you and feel the sun and the heat and the beauty of you. You’re more than my heart can bear. ”
“I will be waiting for you to return to me, always. I want to lie here, like this, with you, every day and night until the end of time. You are my life.” And if I’d been capable of it at that moment, I might have felt disconcerted at the blunt and far-reaching truth of my own words.
He kissed me once more, then he pulled away from me, and I felt saddened already by the separation. Then again—although I hadn’t realized it until now—I was quite painfully sore.
Wilkie went to a side table, where a porcelain pitcher of water and a bowl sat. He poured some of the water into the bowl and brought it to the bed, along with a small cloth. He proceeded to wash me carefully with the cool water, wiping me clean of his seed and my own blood. Then he washed himself.
“You belong to me now,” he said. The statement infused me with an undiluted happiness.
“And you to me,” I replied, marveling at the lingering liquid warmth of his seed within me.
And only me. I thought of the possibility of a child, but it wasn’t my most pressing thought.
A child, whether legitimate or illegitimate, whether already begun or not to be, seemed a far-off concern.
More importantly now was the stunning knowledge that Wilkie’s essence had now truly mixed with my own.
The very core of not only my body but also my spirit felt joyful at the significance of this.
I felt, as Wilkie described, like the sun—or that a glowing, vibrant orb of beauty was within me, where our spirits had mingled and continued to dance even now.
“I believe Ailie and Christie are taking the women on a walk through the gardens this morning, after they have eaten the morning meal. You might accompany them if you choose to.” The suggestion was tinged by only the slightest lurk of anxiety, at the memory of my last walk through the gardens.
But Wilkie added, “The guards are doubled and readied, and patrol the outside walls, the grounds and the gate. There will be no more surprise raids, I can assure you. And Fergus will be with you.”
I sat up, excited. I’d explored the gardens only twice in all the days and weeks I’d been at Kinloch. I couldn’t count the duration of it, of our healing, erotic confinement; the span of time had a surreal, dreamlike quality to it that felt difficult to quantify.
But, now, I couldn’t wait to feel the sun on my face once again and to smell the scent of the harvest on the breeze. I smiled widely and clapped my hands together.
Wilkie seemed amused by my animation.
He kissed me playfully, and, as I tried to pull away from him to dress, he held my hand as though he wouldn’t let it go. I tugged on it, questioning his intent with my smile. “Let me dress, warrior.”
My back was to him, my hair hung long. I thought of Ailie’s urgent request. I had been careful to keep my back away from Wilkie, and to use my hair as a shield when I was naked before him here in this daylight.
But it was true that I had let my guard down just slightly.
Still, I was glad that he had not yet noticed it.
You must tell him, Roses. You must.
I would. I would. But fear once again speared me at the thought. Would he still love me if the old woman’s accusation had been true? Could he forgive me for my murky, sinister origins?
But I knew Ailie was right. I must show him.
I would show him.
Tonight.
I would allow myself to savor the thoroughness of Wilkie’s loving for the day, before I undermined it altogether by unveiling to him my horrible revelation.
It was selfish of me, to be sure: to want him so desperately, even as I knew he would likely cast me out as soon as he discovered my secret.
No man this privileged, this beautiful, would want to forever align himself in body and mind with a...
With the truth of what I was. I wondered if Wilkie himself would watch me burn.
Aye, I would allow myself one more day, and only one more day, to live.
It was a difficult thing to relinquish, love and beauty of this magnitude, but I would do it.
For him. In effect I would be releasing him to follow his destiny and fulfill his duty as the nobleman that he was.
I had already claimed the ultimate prize: absolute connection to the man of my heart.
I felt undeniably complete in the aftermath of Wilkie’s lovemaking.
It was a feeling and a memory I could take with me to my pyre.
After a moment, he released my hand, and I held his gaze as he watched me back away from him, retreating to his antechamber; the movement alerted me to my fading bruises and also my newly acquired soreness.
Wilkie’s eyes were curiously dark, almost dangerous in intent, as though he would leap up and pursue me at any moment.
In the adjoining chambers, I surveyed my choices. Ailie and Christie had been generous. There were several new outfits to choose from.
I chose a light green velvet with white satin trim.
It felt too grand for walking in the gardens, but they were the only choices available to me.
As I had before, I fingered the velvet material.
Could a person ever get used to such finery?
I slipped the dress over my head, luxuriating in its refined softness.
It could have been made for me; the fit was comfortably snug and flattering, cinching in a fitted bodice, flowing gracefully in straight gathered lines to the floor.
I touched the white satin trim, reveling in its silky texture.
I brushed my hair, untangling the long strands and brushing carefully. I braided several plaits and wound each one around my head, pinning the extra length at the back, so it was neatly bound. I put on my shoes.
When I returned to Wilkie, he was up, sitting on the edge of his bed, tying his trews but still shirtless.
The bandage was still bound around his middle, but the sight of it didn’t spear me as much as it had in earlier days.
I knew he was healing well, despite aggravating his wound during his fight with the Ogilvie warrior.
What did spear me, but in an entirely different way, was the way his broad, muscular chest rippled and bunched with his movement.
He watched me approach him. His eyes trailed over my dress, my hair, my face. Then he closed his eyes, his dark lashes curving in a gentle sweep against his cheeks.
I moved to stand between his thighs, placing my hands on his browned, bare shoulders. I kissed his closed eyes. “Why do you close your eyes?”
His eyes opened, and he pulled me closer. “You hurt my heart with your loveliness. This dress matches the color of your eyes, and the silk matches your hair. I don’t want to share you.”
I laughed lightly at his daftness, running my fingers across the swarthy features of his face, enjoying the rough texture of the stubble along his jaw. “There’s no need to share me. I’m yours, all of me.”