Chapter Seventeen #2
She touched his hand. He wanted to snatch it away as if burned…because he had been. Much as he tried to snuff it out, his body…and emotions…still affected by this woman he had once loved so much, he was unable to completely extinguish his response.
‘Are you sure there is nothing we can do?’
‘Thalia, the young man I was will always love the girl you were then. But I’m not that man anymore and you’re not that girl. Life has changed us both and pulled us in other directions.’
She stared into his eyes. Despite the allure of those lavender orbs, he held her gaze steadily.
‘You’re a man of honour, I see.’
‘I always was. That hasn’t—and won’t—change.’
‘You are certain?’
‘As certain as I am of anything in this uncertain life.’
She stared at him a while longer, as if willing him to give a different answer. Then she sighed. ‘If that is how you feel, I will torment neither of us any longer. I hope we may meet…amicably, at least.’
‘I can promise that.’
‘But nothing more?’
Desperately wanting to end this exchange, he gave a negative shake of the head.
‘Then I see you must be Rafe, my only love, no longer. From now on, it will be “Thornthwaite.”’
‘As it must be.’ He glanced over at her husband. ‘Lord Altorn married the most beautiful ornament in London Society, and despite his other “interests,” he’s not about to let you go. Nor would you want to risk losing your children, your position, your life.’
‘Would I not? Sometimes I wonder.’
When he said no more, she finally nodded and turned to leave him. He watched her graceful form as she walked away from him, drained from the interview, but knowing, after the broad hints she’d given him at the ball, it was one they must have.
He was very glad it was over.
He was a man of honour, as he’d claimed.
But even as he couldn’t help feeling vindicated, the self-esteem she’d once smashed with her refusal restored, he was ashamed to admit to himself, he had felt…
tempted. There was still a remnant left of the ardent young man who would have reveled in possessing the beauty who had once been the whole center of his life.
And he would always love her, even if he was not willing to confess that to her.
But he was no longer a feckless young man and he had different priorities.
He’d married a wife who possessed more than beauty and grace, the ability to run a household, give grand balls and preside over a dinner table full of distinguished guests.
He had a minx who not only delighted him in bed, but enlivened his life with her observations and her unique perspective.
One who would be content, as he was, to spend most of her time in the country.
Years with the army had taught him he cherished a deep love for Thornthwaite he hadn’t realized he possessed when he left England.
He’d made a wise choice, marrying a woman who was a best friend and a delight. A wife who would never subject him to a recurrence of the anguish he’d felt for the woman he’d once loved with such an uncontrollable passion.
He was profoundly grateful that, at the end of this evening, he’d be returning to Juliana.
By the time the political discussions ended that night, Rafe returned home with his mind settled, calm enough now to finally broach the matter of his meeting with Lady Alcorn with his wife—which he hoped would engender only a brief and swiftly ended discussion.
Making quick work of disposing of his garments, he threw on a banyan and walked into their bedchamber, where he found Juliana garbed in a dressing gown, seated in a chair before the fire, reading.
‘Waiting up for me?’
She looked up, her smile a little tentative. ‘You don’t mind?’
‘Mind? Why should I?’
‘You seemed…disturbed this morning.’
Faced with the topic, he found he was not feeling as confident as he’d hoped.
‘Oh, nothing, really.’ His mind still skittering around how to describe the meeting, he paused, idly picking up an object off the table beside the chair, putting it back without looking at it.
‘I had a shock at the ball the other night when I unexpectedly encountered Lady Altorn. You didn’t see her? ’
‘I wasn’t introduced, no.’ After a pause, into which Rafe couldn’t think of anything to add, she continued, ‘It must have been…difficult. After all this time, speaking again to the woman you once hoped to make your wife.’
‘Uncomfortable, yes,’ he acknowledged, not sure it was wise to add any more.
Eager, now that he’d admitted the meeting, to end any further probing into his response, he added, ‘But that was many years ago. I ended up with a far better choice. A sage decision I’d like us both to celebrate again tonight. ’
She’d sometimes distracted him with passion. He hoped he might now do the same.
He put his hands on her shoulders and leaned down to place a kiss on her head. Skirting the chair, he pulled her up to stand before him, sliding his hands under her dressing gown to cup her breasts and kissing her deeply, his tongue laving hers.
To his relief, she responded instantly, meeting his tongue with her own, leaning into his caressing fingers while moving her hands to clasp his buttocks and pull his burgeoning erection closer.
A few minutes later, he parted his robe and lifted her so she could wrap her legs around his waist. She was already guiding him inside as he carried her to the bed.