Chapter Twenty-Two
Sunlight hit the water and sparkled like diamonds as Will paced along the bank of the stream, his eyes scanning for movement. For enemies.
But the only movement behind a hedge across the water proved to be nothing more than a dairy cow cropping grass.
His high state of alert was ridiculous in such a setting.
Wildflowers covered the meadow, and the sun cast short, dark shadows that scarcely hid an ant.
But the habit of more months than he cared to remember, a habit which had kept him safe and alive, could not be easily abandoned.
Not even when his rational mind told him he was here in England.
The war was over, and he would never have to set eyes on Boney again. After the coalition’s victory at Waterloo, Napoleon had been sent far away to St. Helena Island, little more than a speck in the middle of the vast Atlantic Ocean.
But Will still worried. Was anywhere on Earth distant enough to prevent another escape attempt, to make Bonaparte fade from common memory and remove all hope of another return from his French supporters?
Had the British learned from Elba and made St. Helena fully secure? The former emperor would never again have the right to raise an army or navy but would be treated rather as a guest, albeit for the term of his natural life. On St. Helena, if they’d got it right this time, Napoleon would die.
A watery plop drew his attention, and Will’s keen eyes scanned the stream, catching a flash of silver scales followed by ripples growing wider and smaller by the second.
He drew in a deep, slow breath and closed his eyes, seeking calm and the feeling of being safe that he had lost in France.
He concentrated on the warmth of the sun on his face and the scent of mown grass and wildflowers, the distant lowing of cattle and the nearby chirping of birds.
When he had teased out the many sounds and scents of the countryside, he opened his eyes again. It was a pleasant spot, a true rural idyll.
Rufus had requested this meeting away from the eyes of London’s ever-inquisitive gossips, promising a plan to secure Will and Clem’s future happiness, but now Will wondered: had his friend also chosen the location as a balm for a war-weary soul?
While he pondered Rufus’s meticulous planning and quiet scheming, the clop of hooves and the clatter of carriage wheels grew louder. Within moments, a carriage bowled down the lane, slowing to make the turn into the meadow.
The driver slowed the horses to a walk and then reined them in near a stand of trees on the northern boundary. He climbed down and secured the horses, and Will stood waiting for Rufus to join him.
He had many questions and no clue how Rufus was going to solve their dilemma.
Yesterday morning’s announcement in the newspaper of the engagement between his best friend and Clem was in the public eye.
It made their relationship as real and solid as stone and more difficult to break.
No matter now which of them broke the arrangement, there would be hell to pay.
Unfortunately, the woman always paid a heavier price, and breaking off an engagement to an earl would draw scorn and derision down on Clem’s head.
Likely, he and Clem would have to quietly escape to the country to ride out the worst of Society’s reaction. Not that it mattered to Will, but he hated the thought of Clem suffering unkindness or, worse, social cuts.
When the door of the carriage opened, however, the occupant was not Rufus but Clem.
A straw bonnet hid her face as she alighted, but as soon as her feet touched the ground, she looked straight at him.
Her smile was wide, and he imagined her eyes would be bright pools of blue even as he strode across the uneven ground to meet her.
“Clem, what are you doing here?”
“Is that any way to greet me after Rufus planned such a lovely surprise for us? We, or rather I should say, I have brought a picnic.” She presented her cheek for his kiss and then tugged him out of earshot of the coachman.
Will took hold of her hands and looked at her. “I’m delighted to see you, my darling. It’s a wonderful surprise, but where’s Rufus? He was going to share his plan.”
Clem shrugged, her mouth forming a small moue of disappointment, and Will squeezed her hands.
“I’m sorry. I’m used to adapting to whatever events a day brings, but seeing you in place of Rufus has thrown me—in a good way,” he hastened to add.
Clem frowned, raising one hand. Her fingers brushed across his brow and shaped the contours of his face. When her hand reached his cheek, he leaned into her palm.
God, how he’d missed her touch. And her scent, and the feel of her delightful curves beneath his fingers. Her quick understanding. Everything about her.
“When Rufus picked me up this morning, I had no idea he planned to leave us alone, but since he did, I’m hoping we can talk. Are you allowed to talk about what you were doing in France? It’s not a secret now, is it?”
Will hesitated, remembering Lord Carstairs’s warning and Rufus’s quiet suggestion to be selective about what he shared. “Perhaps I can tell you a little. There are some things I’d rather not remember, though, and talking about them is difficult.”
“Of course, but for me, the past twenty months is a canvas from which you are missing. I would like to fill in some of those spaces. Only those that you are comfortable speaking about, though.”
Will nodded, already picking through his time in France for people and places he could share. “Shall we walk while the footman sets out the picnic?”
“That would be lovely.” She took his arm as they strolled towards the stream. “This is such a pretty spot; peaceful, and we have it to ourselves except for the cows over yonder.”
“I suspect that’s why Rufus chose it.”
“Because of the cows?” Clem’s smile filled her face, her eyes alight with a sense of the ridiculous and her love of life.
He chuckled, grateful she appeared untouched by the war that had separated them for so long. “I believe them to be a part of his grand plan. Where is he, by the way?”
Clem tugged the ribbons of her bonnet and pulled it off, tipping her face up and looking into his eyes. Hers positively shone with love he could not doubt was for him alone.
His heart thudded in his chest and stole his breath as his hungry gaze roamed over the miracle standing before him.
Not only had he survived the war, but Clem had waited for him. She had remained faithful and true despite twenty long months with naught but a single note from him and only bare hints from their friend of why he was not by her side.
As for her engagement to Rufus, it was an irrelevant obstacle now that he knew the reason for it. If only he’d been able to catch an earlier ship across the Channel, but bad weather had delayed their departure by a day.
One day.
How much could change in a mere twenty-four hours.
Clem stripped off her gloves and stuffed them into her reticule.
“Rufus stayed at the last coaching inn, claiming a need for their most excellent beef pie and claret, but I believe he planned all along to give us time alone. Time to talk.” Her gaze dropped to Will’s mouth, and it occurred to him that she was as keen as he to pick up where they had left off the night before he had been ordered to France.
Kisses seared into his memory had sustained him through long months alone, along with her promise to marry him. Her soft pink lips parted, inviting, hungry for his.
Will didn’t feel ready to talk about his time in France yet, not even an edited version.
Neither was it the sort of conversation he wanted to have with Clem on this first time together out of the public eye.
He wanted to listen to the lilt of her voice telling him about happier times.
About the celebrations she’d attended and the wonders of London under victorious skies.
She was sweet and untouched by the horrors he had seen. Creating a distance between those events and his beloved was necessary if he was to preserve her peace of mind.
Besides, what he wanted to do right now, what Clem clearly wanted too, was to kiss her until they both forgot the war and the long, lonely wait until they were together again. That was a much better use of their mouths, lips, and bodies.
Setting a finger beneath her chin, he tipped her face up and slowly leaned in. Her free hand slipped around his neck, and her breath warmed his cheek. “Kiss me, Will. Kiss me now and blot out all those months we were apart.”
He needed no more encouragement.
Their mouths met in a kiss full of need, filled with desire to become one. If not for the presence of the coachman, only dimly remembered by Will, he would have laid her on the grass there and then, so great was his need to make her his.
But the soft whickering of the carriage horses and jingle of harness brought Will back to the present.
Reluctantly, he rested his hands on Clem’s waist and eased her away from the unseemly bulge in his trousers.
He could do nothing about it now, other than divert her attention to protect her maidenly innocence until they were wed.
She opened her eyes and sighed. “Why did you stop, Will?”
“If I hadn’t stopped then, I might not have been able to, and I won’t do anything to hurt you, darling.”
“Hmm, you never will. Besides, don’t I have any say?”
“Of course, you do, only, until we are married, trust me to tell you when we need to stop. After our wedding night, I hope you will have no desire to.”
Her kiss-swollen lips tipped up in a smile. “After our wedding night—I love the sound of that, but Will, do you know how we can make that wonderful moment happen? Has Rufus told you anything?”