Chapter Eighteen
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
A sh woke to the soft brush of lips against his. His eyelids were heavy, almost impossible to open. The lips came again, a deeper press this time, a weight against his side telling him he was not alone.
‘Ash,’ his name was whispered against his collarbone. ‘Ash, it is nearly morning. You need to wake up.’
‘Melia,’ he murmured. Sleep still had him in its grip but his body was stirring, remembering what had happened during the night, the miracle that had occurred.
‘You’re grinning!’ A finger poked him in the side. ‘If you’re smiling you’re awake.’
He blinked as he woke fully. ‘Is it really nearly morning?’ he asked, but as his eyes adjusted to the light, he could tell that she was right. The darkness had turned grey, heralding the start of the day. Another miracle. ‘I slept through,’ he said, not really meaning to say it out loud.
‘Do you not normally?’
‘Not since the war,’ he answered honestly. ‘I get nightmares.’
He felt her shuffling against him and then her face came into focus as she leaned over him. ‘Do you want to tell me about it?’
Did he? He hadn’t spoken to anyone about Young Eddie but he had never spent the night with a woman, either, and he hadn’t slept through the night since the war ended until Amelia had been curled up by his side. He’d wanted to protect her from the horror of war but she was stronger than that. She may not have seen bloodshed but she had fought her own conflicts and had come out stronger for them. ‘There was a battle…’ he began. ‘Not one talked about by the ton. It was more of a skirmish, I suppose. There was a man, not much more than a boy really, who was determined to make a name for himself. We all called him Young Eddie, which he hated. He was meant to be following my orders but he thought he knew better. I kept screaming at him to fall back. Everyone else had done so but he wanted to be the hero.’ For a moment, Ash was back there, the clang of swords, the dust swirling after a dropped cannonball, his throat raw from shouting orders that were being ignored by one man. And the rifle shot, that seemed to come from nowhere, the one that ended Young Eddie’s life right before his eyes. ‘He died so quickly. One minute he was shouting at me, telling me I was a fool and a coward, and the next he was gone. I relive his death every night,’ he said quietly. Ash didn’t add that more often than not, Amelia’s face had replaced Young Eddie’s, that she kept walking towards the rifle shot every time, no matter how hard he tried to stop her. Perhaps his mind was showing him that just as he had failed Young Eddie, he had also failed Amelia, and this was his punishment for both, to eternally not be able to stop them. ‘I reach for him but every time he slips through my fingers.’ He shuddered. ‘I saw many awful things during those years but that death will never leave me.’
Amelia’s fingers brushed his shoulder. ‘I’m sorry, Ash.’
‘It’s not your fault. I should have done more to make him listen. I’m the one who…’
She placed a palm against his cheek. ‘You cannot blame yourself for another man’s actions, although I know that is easier to say than to do. But that is not what I am sorry for. For a long time, I have only thought of how your leaving for the war affected me. I had not thought how it must have been for you to live through it and how the stains of it must cling to you even now it is over.’ She was right; that was exactly how he felt. As if he would always be living that moment. There was something visceral in being understood, something that loosened a tight knot inside him, not so that it disappeared but became slightly easier to bear. ‘Will you tell me more?’ she asked as they lapsed into silence.
‘I will, but not now. I should go before I am seen.’
‘Yes, of course.’
But even though he knew it would be sensible to leave, it was some time before he could drag himself away.
* * *
As the next few nights merged into the days that followed, Ash and Amelia continued to meet by the light of the moon. Ezra’s book continued to make itself very useful. By day, Ash was the consummate member of the ton, doing exactly what was expected of a man of his age, working on his investments and managing his household. By night, he made love to Amelia in a million different ways. He kept expecting Amelia to want to talk about what was happening between them but she never did. He wanted to ask her whether her views on marriage had changed but he did not know what he would do with the answer, no matter what it was. If it was yes, did he have what it took to be the perfect husband for her? She already knew about his failings and still she came to him but would she still if she knew the extent of his weakness? And if the answer was no, could he cope with the idea that they would never truly belong to each other? By day, these questions plagued him but he forgot all about them as darkness fell and they continued to explore one another.
At night, Amelia seemed content to let their bodies do the speaking and Ash was more than happy to follow her lead. He learned that she liked it best when she had more freedom to move around. It took longer for her to relax if she was in any way pinned down by his weight, and finding positions that allowed her to truly enjoy herself had become his new obsession.
A few weeks after their first night together, Ash knelt with her astride his lap, her hair fanned out around her shoulders, glinting in the moonlight that shone through the window. This position brought him close to her breasts and she whimpered as he bit and sucked in a way he’d learned she’d loved as much as he did. She writhed on top of him, every movement she made sending him further out of his mind. ‘Ash,’ she whimpered, ‘it feels so good.’
To answer he would need to form words, and he couldn’t. Instead, he showed her just how wonderful it was to him, too, until they were both falling together, crying out in the endless moment of bliss.
Afterwards, he fell backwards onto the pile of blankets he’d started amassing in the summer house, pulling her with him so that she sprawled over his chest, her hair splaying outwards over his shoulders and either side of him. He’d still yet to see her with her hair down in daylight and he was becoming increasingly desperate to do so.
‘I need to tell you something,’ he said into the darkness.
She lifted her head off his chest. ‘What is it?’ He could hear the anxiety in her voice and he wondered on that. What was it that she thought he was about to say? Did the anxiety suggest she thought he was about to propose marriage and that she did not want to hear it from him? He wasn’t brave enough to ask.
‘It is nothing terrible,’ he said lightly, pulling himself away from the darker thoughts.
‘Then why do you sound so weird?’
‘Do I?’
‘Yes, all gruff and stern as if you are about to tell me off.’
He ran his hand down the length of her spine and she arched into him. ‘Possibly because I am a little embarrassed about what I am about to say. In fact, let us move on.’ There was no need for his confession after all. ‘Has Mr Phillips asked permission to court Sienna yet?’
‘Not yet but please don’t try to change the subject or distract me with your hands.’
‘You mean like this,’ he murmured, skimming his hands over her buttocks and using the very tips of his fingers to trace the curves of her thighs. She began to squirm against him. He carried on his exploration, listening to the noises she made, learning every time he touched her what caress gave her the most pleasure. When she was writhing against him again, he pulled her down onto him once more, claiming her mouth in a passionate kiss. He was drowning in her, knowing that with every day that passed he was less and less able to imagine a life without her in it.
* * *
When Amelia came round, she was slumped across Ash once more, her body ridiculously sated. She’d had no idea it was possible to be this relaxed in someone else’s company, especially after sex. Although she guessed three times in one evening probably did equate to vigorous exercise. She propped herself up on one elbow and gazed down at Ash. From the steady rise and fall of his chest, she could tell he was sleeping. In the past few weeks, she had seen the shadows gradually recede from beneath his eyes, and she guessed he was sleeping better than he had since he had returned from the war. He was probably too exhausted from their activities to get the nightmares that he confided had plagued him since his return home.
Although she was getting far less sleep than ever before, she found herself strangely energised. Her new-found enthusiasm for life was keeping her busy at balls and all manner of social events and still left her with the ability to spend the night with Ash. She did sleep but only in fits and starts, when she wasn’t busy exploring Ash’s body and learning what they could do to one another to bring inordinate amounts of pleasure to them both. She was happy and she did not want this interlude to end or change, and she hoped Ash felt the same way. It was a perfect moment out of time and it needed no deeper consideration than that.
Ash stirred. ‘I can feel you watching me,’ he said, his voice thick with sleep.
‘I’m merely being repelled by how loudly you snore,’ she murmured, trying not to wake him up too much.
He grinned, his eyes still closed. ‘I was going to tell you something but then I got distracted.’
Amelia held her breath. She had no idea what he was going to talk about, but she had been expecting him to want a heart-to-heart since the night they had first lain together. This intense affair was out of character for both of them. Amelia was someone who liked to plan, and she knew Ash was the same. Only, she didn’t want to think about what was happening between her and Ash just yet. She knew that, if she did, she would have to answer some hard questions, questions she kept putting out of her mind. Questions about their future and what this meant. Ash was a gentleman and he might think that their liaison meant that they should marry. Remarrying had always scared her; she never wanted to be controlled by a man again, never wanted someone other than herself to decide what she wore or ate. But…now the thought of not marrying Ash was scaring her almost as much. Ash, with his generosity, the way he made her laugh, the anxious look in his eyes when he thought of those who depended on him, would not try to control her. If control or lack thereof was her only concern about remarrying, didn’t that mean she and Ash could form a permanent union? And that was terrifying. Like standing at the edge of cliff and wondering whether it was a good idea to leap, not knowing if the landing would be soft or be like hurtling onto jagged rocks. So she preferred not to think at all, and when Ash had his body wrapped around her, she didn’t.
Ash cleared his throat and then opened his eyes, looking directly at her. ‘I thought you should know that I have never done this before.’
She blinked; she had no idea what he was talking about. She waited for him to elaborate or to continue but he just stared up at her. ‘Never done what before?’ she asked when it was clear he had finished speaking.
The corner of his mouth lifted in a half smile. ‘I have never lain with a woman before. Not before you, that is.’
‘What do you mean?’ He couldn’t possibly be saying what she thought he was because…
He reached up and tucked some of her hair behind her ear; he seemed to adore touching it and never missed an opportunity to thread his fingers through it. ‘You know what I am saying and I would prefer not to repeat it. It was mildly embarrassing telling you the first time.’
‘But how can that be?’
She felt him shrug. ‘I just haven’t.’ She made out the whites of his teeth as he grinned. ‘I’ve imagined it a lot, though.’
‘I see.’ She didn’t. Not really. He was Ash. It wasn’t just she who thought him handsome. He turned women’s heads wherever he went. It was impossible that he had not lain with a woman before her.
‘My imagination is not as good as reality. These last few weeks have been the best of my life.’
She found his fingers and linked hers with his. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed his way up the inside of her arm, his bristles tickling the sensitive skin there. ‘How do you know what to do?’ she asked, before his mouth robbed her of all her sensibilities. ‘We’ve done things I never dreamed were possible.’
‘I’ve seen it in a book.’ It was such an Ash answer that she laughed, feeling his answering smile against her skin. ‘Perhaps you would like to take a look. Some of the ideas look impossible but I’m not averse to giving them a go, if you think you might find them agreeable.’
‘I should like that.’ How strange that they should be discussing something so decadently wicked almost as if they were talking about the weather. All the while his lips were continuing their path up over her shoulder and along her collarbone.
‘How is it that you have never…?’ She lost the trail of her thoughts as his head dipped between the valley of her breasts.
‘A battlefield is no place to take a lover,’ he murmured against her skin.
‘Yes, but…before.’
‘Before, there was you, and I was saving myself for our wedding night.’
She pulled away from him, pushing herself upright. ‘Our wedding night?’
So close to him, she could see that his eyes were still clouded with lust, but he might as well have poured a bucket of cold water over her. She felt around and pulled one of the many blankets that appeared to have accumulated around her.
He blinked and she saw him coming back to himself. ‘Yes. Our wedding night. Or at least the one I thought we would have.’
‘To have one of those we would need to have been engaged, Ash, and we have never discussed marriage.’
He descended into silence, staring off into the distance. ‘Are you sure?’ he asked eventually.
‘Yes.’ It wasn’t until after he’d vanished from her life that she realised he had made her no promises. It hadn’t been hard to convince herself that he’d never had any intention of marrying her, that the kisses and the touching had all been a lovely distraction for him but nothing more serious. So yes, she was absolutely certain that they had never talked about marriage. She hadn’t thought they needed to and then it was too late to ask because he was no longer responding to her.
‘But we talked about it all the time while we were growing up.’
‘Our parents mentioned it, almost as a family joke, but we didn’t. I wouldn’t have…’
In the darkness, she could still see him turn to face her. ‘You wouldn’t have…’
‘If I had thought myself engaged to you, I would not have married Mortram, no matter how dire our financial situation was.’
Her words fell into a silence that felt cavernous.
During their many nights together, she had not felt the cold but now she was icy even with the blanket wrapped around her. She shivered, pulling it tighter. He noticed her reaction and tugged her into his arms. She allowed him to pull her back down and cocoon her in more blankets. ‘I thought I had been clear in my intentions,’ he said as he rubbed her arms, trying to warm her. ‘I am sorry that I was not.’
She rested her head on his chest, just beneath his chin. His skin was warm here and she had begun to think of this part of him as hers exclusively. He began to stroke her hair and she relaxed against him, the day finally catching up with her. Just as she was drifting off to sleep she thought she heard him murmur, ‘Next time, I will state my intentions clearly so that there will be no doubt.’ But she couldn’t be certain and that would come back to plague her in the days that followed.