Chapter 28 #2
She did get in the carriage, of course. As it rattled away, she considered how things had changed.
Only a week ago, I couldn’t set foot out of doors after dark and even before dark, not without a maid or preferably a horde of chaperones. Now that I’m a married woman, I can do more or less what I want, even if it’s not to my benefit.
Closing her eyes, she leaned back in her seat and let out a long, ragged breath.
This is a terrible idea.
The whole ride, she considered the various ways in which the meeting could go wrong. By the time the carriage pulled to a halt in front of Thornhill Abbey, she’d worked herself into quite a frenzy.
Out she rushed and darted straight into the house.
Better get this over with.
She’d expected Christian to be waiting in the foyer, but instead the butler stood there.
“Where is he?” she asked, faintly confused.
“I believe His Grace is in his chambers, Your Grace,” Hooves responded smoothly. “I would usually offer tea and refreshments, but I believe that His Grace has had everything prepared.”
Thalia cleared her throat. “I see. Thank you.”
The butler bowed, leaving her to climb the stairs alone. Up she went, higher and higher, heart hammering in her chest.
At last, she reached the door to Christian’s rooms. The hallway outside was dark, allowing only a sliver of light to escape. She pushed on the door, and it creaked open painfully slowly.
“Come in, my dear,” came Christian’s light voice. “I’m glad you came.”
She slipped inside.
Despite the fur rugs and padded interior of the carriage, the cold had crept in anyway.
Her cloak, a thin satin one, had done nothing to keep out the chill, and she was frozen to the bone.
A jolly fire roared in the grate, and she saw wine, cheese, and bread waiting on a low table, alongside a tea tray.
Shivering, she stepped forward, holding out her hands to the blaze.
“Is Alex here?” she asked, desperate to break the silence.
Christian sat sprawled on a low sofa in the corner of the room, his long legs stretched out.
He wore only a thin, almost translucent linen shirt and plain breeches.
If she didn’t look directly at him, perhaps she might escape the conversation without taking any more damage to her poor, battered heart.
“Not yet,” he responded calmly. “But he’ll come tomorrow.
I believe the nuns wanted to throw a farewell party for him.
Sister Abigail mentioned that since you became a duchess, St. Sarah’s has attracted a great deal more interest. Suddenly, the board is much more amenable to the idea of the children having little treats.
She told me to inform you that birthday celebrations are once again permitted, and there’s talk of regular outings for the children, ones not solely financed by you. ”
Thalia bit back a smile. “Well, that is good news. Alex will be happy here, I think. He’ll miss Nicholas and Sophia dreadfully, of course. Perhaps you could arrange visits?”
“About that.” Christian slowly rose to his feet. “After much reflection, I believe the easier solution is to simply adopt Nicholas and Sophia too.”
Thalia went still. “What?” she gasped.
He shrugged. “They’re sweet children. They deserve a proper home, and Alex already considers them his siblings. Why should they not come here?”
“Oh,” she breathed, her throat tightening. “Oh, Christian, that’s wonderful. You are the best of men.”
“Me?” He chuckled, shaking his head. “I cannot take credit for this, for any of it. You were the one who made me like this, Thalia. You changed the way I see everything. You gave me everything.”
He stepped closer, closing the gap between them.
She drew in a sharp breath, skin tingling. Heat flared in her gut, a familiar feeling. She turned back to the fire, stretched out her hands, and saw that they were trembling.
“Nonsense,” she whispered. “You were already this man. You’d just forgotten who you were.”
“If that’s true, I still owe you my thanks.
You found my son, Thalia. Thanks to you, I have a past and a future.
I… I find that I cannot believe my luck.
But without you…” He reached forward, taking her hands in his own.
His palms were delightfully warm, fingers strong and sure. “Without you, I am nothing.”
“You’re too harsh on yourself,” she breathed.
“Am I? You have stolen my heart, Thalia. I… I cannot breathe when you are not here. I find myself looking for you in every room I enter. I think about what you might say in this situation or that. I think about our conversations over and over, musing on what you said or how you looked. I cannot breathe when you are near. And worst of all, I cannot be happy that I found my son because I know you hate me.”
She rolled her eyes at him. “For a clever man, Your Grace, you are remarkably stupid. I do not hate you. I… I could never hate you.”
“You’ve shown me that I can have it all,” he breathed, moving closer still, wrapping his arms around her waist.
Thalia closed her eyes, letting the sensation sweep over her. The floor seemed to shift under her, making her giddy.
“I want it all,” he continued, leaning close enough for her to feel the warmth of his breath on her cheek. “My son. A family. Happiness. You. But it all falls apart when I think of my life without you in it. Please, Thalia, believe me when I say that I know I’m wrong. Please stay.”
Stay.
His plea echoed through her, and she shivered. He gathered her closer to him, chests pressing together, and she wondered briefly if he could feel her heart hammering in her chest.
“I want us to make a life,” he whispered. “You and I with the children. Think of how sweet they’ll be and how well they’ll take care of their younger siblings.”
She opened her eyes, looking up at him. “Younger siblings?”
A slow smile spread across his face. “Well, of course. Youngest. The ones we’ll make together, you and me.”
“You… you mean it?” she breathed, eyes widening. “A proper family? A proper marriage?”
“I want everything, Thalia, I told you. I want you. I want a little girl with your hair and endless curiosity. And I want a little boy with your eyes. One of them might wear spectacles like you do.”
She gave a faint huff. “I wouldn’t wish my bad eyesight on any child.”
He chuckled, reaching up to gingerly take her spectacles off her face. “Well, your spectacles look remarkably adorable on you. Bad eyesight or not, I’m sure that our children will be just the same. Maybe they’ll be twins, and they’ll both have fiery-red hair, just like their mama.”
She stared up at him, searching his eyes for any sign that he didn’t really mean it. She licked her lips nervously.
“You… you really do want me, then?” she breathed.
He chuckled, leaning in to rest his forehead against hers. “I’m dying over here, wife. Good of you to notice.”
She had to laugh at that, a throaty, surprised sound that bubbled up her throat.
He kissed her.
The kiss was something of a surprise. Of course, she ought to have seen it coming, but never mind that.
Heat rushed through her, a barrage of sensations flooding her.
The scratch of his stubble, the gentle insistence of his tongue, the taste of his lips—salt and whiskey—and her own thrumming desire, growing hotter and hotter in her gut.
He swept her up into his arms without warning. She gave a startled yelp, wrapping her arms instinctively around his shoulders. He grinned at her.
“Since our wedding night was a little disappointing,” he murmured breathily, “shall we have another go?”
Desire sparked in her gut.
“Yes,” she whispered. “I think I’d like that.”
He carried her to the bed and set her down gently.
Thalia went limp, closing her eyes and allowing him to kiss her.
He started with her lips, of course, then her eyelashes, the tip of her nose, her cheeks, temples, and downwards.
When his lips brushed the side of her neck, she quivered, opening her eyes.
He wasted no time, moving down and down, hands trailing over the swell of her breasts and down her sides, cupping her hips. She shifted and cleared her throat.
“Our… our clothes,” she reminded him, voice catching.
Christian knelt over her, eyes twinkling in the candlelight. “Usually, I would agree,” he whispered, a catch in his voice. “But the plain fact is, my love, I’m not sure I can wait that long.”