Chapter 20
“Good morning,” Lottie said brightly.
Eva made her way to the dining table and sat opposite Lottie. She glanced around the room as a footman served her coffee. There were only three places set. One of which was coincidentally next to her.
“Have all the guests gone?” Eva said.
“Last carriage left about half an hour ago.”
“Hmm.”
“You are looking rather radiant this morning, Jane,” Lottie said.
Eva dropped a hard-boiled egg onto the table. “Even with a set of ugly stitches on my face?”
“When do you get them removed?”
“I believe this week.”
“The doctor is due to arrive on Sunday, shortly after church,” Henry said as he entered the room. He took a seat next to Eva. “Might I say, Miss Edwards, that my sister is indeed right about you looking radiant. Have you done something different with your hair?”
Eva gave him a look.
Tight-lipped, a slow smile spread across his face.
“I simply slept well, Mr. Asheford,” Eva said, busying herself with peeling the hard-boiled egg, but her fingers fumbled around the shell awkwardly.
“Yes, that must be it,” Henry said. “A good night’s sleep could reanimate even a dead man’s heart.”
The air became charged with a heavy tension as she thought back to the previous night in the rose-garden alcove. She remembered how quickly he lost control of his inhibitions, how tightly he held her, how he whispered that he loved her. She dropped the egg again and it clattered against the edge of the plate and rolled across the table.
Lottie was watching.
So was Henry.
He picked up the egg and handed it to her. As she reached for it, their eyes met, and his smile grew into a wicked grin.
Oh my God. She could feel the heat radiating between her legs. She knew Henry was teasing her, that he enjoyed watching her squirm, but she refused to acknowledge him. He would not yet get that satisfaction.
She snatched the egg and resumed peeling it, all the while staring at her plate with intense focus.
“Shall we bring Jane along to church with us this Sunday?” Lottie said.
“I am sure Miss Edwards would not oppose the idea … given that she is a Christian woman,” Henry said.
Eva’s breath came out choked as if she suppressed a laugh of disbelief. “Of course, I would love to accompany you both to church.”
She shot Henry a look as if to say, A Christian woman, really? The topic of religion had never come up with him, so she wasn’t sure if he really thought that of her. It was probably a teasing comment hinting at their sinful unwedded tussle in the garden. Regardless, the topic of God had come up with Lottie, and Eva had never forgotten the girl’s words.
You try because God put you here for a reason. To help us heal. To become whole and feel again.
To her annoyance, the words always ambushed her in moments of doubt. For days now, Eva had questioned the concept. In the end, it was easier to dismiss it. She had arrived by accident and not because some god had put her there, but then a small voice at the back of her head would reply, Are you not healing? And the answer was yes.
Every time she looked at Henry, she could literally feel the seams of her heart tighten back into one whole organ. And Lottie’s excitement for life was contagious. It fueled Eva’s empty beacons of joy and set them ablaze with newfound energy. And Asheford Hall, with its grandiose decor and vibrant gardens, breathed calmness into her lungs.
However, her future was still not certain. Whether she would return home, whether Edwin Asheford would find her, or whether she’d be forever stuck in 1881 were all probable endings to her story. One would think that not knowing would make her nervous to high hell. She supposed, in a way, she was, but she was comforted by the fact that whatever would happen, she would have Henry Asheford by her side.
She looked at him now.
He was stirring his cup of tea with a small spoon. The look of intense concentration on his face made her laugh. He regarded her and instantly grinned, dimples and all.
Suddenly, she did not feel quite so rushed to discover her future.
***
Later that night, the clock in her bedroom ticked loudly, penetrating the dense air of nervous energy. Every second drew her closer to Henry. After breakfast, he had caught her in the corridor with a surprise kiss before informing her of his need to conduct property business in the nearby village for the day. He promised to find her no later than ten that night. It was five minutes to.
Wearing a thin nightgown, she sat in her armchair brushing the knots from her damp hair in front of the mirror. The candle on the table flickered with every shaking breath she took.
A light knock on the door sounded.
“Come in,” she said.
The doorknob turned.
She knew it would be him, and yet her mind clouded. As she observed Henry in the reflection of the mirror, her heart raced harder and harder.
A curl of dark wavy hair swept across his forehead. He wore a white shirt, unbuttoned at the collar, and a pair of grey pants.
He was unbelievably handsome.
And he is all yours.
Without a word, he stood behind her. A scent of cedarwood reached her nostrils. For a moment, his gaze took her in, observing her eyes, lips, throat, chest and exposed thigh. His fingertips began caressing her right cheek. They lightly moved down the sensitive skin of her neck, traced her collarbone and cupped a breast.
He bit his lower lip.
It was difficult not to jump his bones then and there. She knew he wanted to take it slowly. Yesterday she had taken the lead. Tonight, it would be his turn.
She set her hairbrush on the table, stood and faced him.
His hand slipped around the back of her head. Fingers gripped her hair. His lips were on hers before she could say a word.
Unlike yesterday, his kissing was more primal. Raw with aching desperation. As if all the inhibitions he held had faded away and he could explore what was beyond the boundaries. It filled her with happiness. To see him happy was wonderful.
“God, I’ve missed you,” he whispered.
She smiled against his lips. “We saw one another for breakfast.”
“I wanted to ravish you in kisses”—he ran his thumb over her lower lip—“and take you on the table among the apples and hard-boiled eggs.”
Her brows rose. “Who would have thought that Henry Asheford was such a naughty boy.”
He growled and brought his mouth over hers.
If he didn’t take her to bed now, she would fall into a gooey puddle on the floor. She ran a hand down his chest, feeling the muscles beneath his shirt. Her fingers explored the waistband of his pants. Eager to feel his naked skin, she tugged out his shirt.
It was his turn to smile against her mouth.
He removed his shirt. His skin was freckled with a trail of light-brown hair running down his muscular abdomen.
A shudder ran through her. Yep, she was about to melt.
To her relief, his hands sank to the hem of her nightgown and lifted it. The softness of his palms brushed along her thighs, hips, stomach … he stopped at her breasts. His mouth parted; his eyes became hooded with a drowsy expression as he gently kneaded their softness.
Stifling a giggle, she removed the nightgown for him.
He inhaled sharply.
She smiled as he ran his thumbs over her nipples. But that smile quickly faded when his hot mouth came down on her. With every flick of his tongue, a wave of heat travelled over her body. And when a gentle nip of his teeth pulled, she pushed him onto the bed.
He fell back on the bed’s edge.
Screw taking it slow. She crawled on top of his thighs and began undoing his pants.
“No,” he said.
“Yes,” she said, bringing her fingers to his lips.
He brought his hands onto her hips. Suddenly, she was flipped onto her back. Through the tangle of hair across her face, she saw Henry undress as he stared down at her body with an intensity that sent a powerful throb through her veins. Before she knew it, he was at her throat.
A trail of hot kisses stung her skin. Lost in the thrill, she heard herself beg him to take her, but he only continued to touch and kiss and smother her in affection that was warmer than molten lava.
Until he stilled atop her…
He caught her gaze. Nose to nose, he brushed away the hair from her face. She could feel the pounding of his heart against her ribcage, the hardness of him between her legs. There was nothing but the sound of their frenzied breath and the ticking of the clock, that seemed to have slowed.
With one smooth push, he glided into her. His lips parted in a silent moan.
She clenched a fistful of sheets. Falling. She was falling with Henry into oblivion. Her head slumped back against the pillow and she let him ravish her until completion.
***
Raised on his elbow, Henry’s finger traced the outline of Eva’s shoulder blade. A line of black script caught his attention.
“You have a tattoo?” he said.
She opened her eyes and smiled. “I do.”
He leaned closer and read. “I have loved the stars too truthfully, to be fearful of the night.” He nearly choked on his next words. “The Old Astronomer! You are familiar with this work of poetry?”
She rolled onto her back and gazed up at him. “My dad had a copy of the best-loved poems of the American people. He read The Old Astronomer to me often as a child. You know it?”
“ ‘Though my soul may set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light; I have loved the stars too truthfully, to be fearful of the night.’ ” He smiled. “Mother used to read it when we were young.”
“Hmm.” She smiled. “It would seem that you and I have a lot in common.”
He brushed a lock of hair behind her ear and planted a kiss on her mouth.
“It would seem so,” he whispered against her lips. “Eva, sometimes, I cannot understand it.”
“You don’t need to.”
“But I want to.”
She placed a hand on his cheek. “We need to live in the present, not the past or the future.”
He gestured for her to lie next to him. “Come here. I want to hold you.”
She nestled into the crook of his body. How could he ever think of letting her go now? With the urge to savour every second of their time, his palm skated the curves of her waist and hip.
“How many women have you slept with?” she said.
His palm halted. “You wish to speak about this?”
“Yesterday, you called me a whore and I’m curious to know why you would think that.”
“I called you a cockish wench which, by definition, means ‘forward young lady’.”
She pushed her bottom into his groin. “Hey, you don’t get to wiggle out of it that easily. How many women?”
“One; only one.”
He could feel her tense against his body.
“I’m your second?” she asked.
“Does that trouble you?”
“I just thought … I thought there would have been more.”
He leaned forward to take in her expression. She was serious. “Eva, I am a man who believes in courtship and marriage. I do not pursue sexual relationships based on shallow infatuation.”
“I see.”
He ran a hand through her hair. “I want a woman who loves me for who I am, not what I am. That is difficult to come by with my social standing.”
“Because a marriage in this world means business,” she muttered.
“For the most part, yes.”
“Then why do you believe in marriage?”
“I suppose I believe in the notion of sharing my life with someone,” he said quietly. “The reality is that a marriage for me is, as you said, a business transaction. The woman chosen would never truly love me because she would never know Henry Asheford. Do you think I would speak to her of my family’s vile reputation, of the man I murdered, of my loved ones lost? I would never open my heart and soul to a woman who could never understand … a woman who would run away screaming after learning of my insecurities, faults and demons. Never would I subject her or myself to that.”
“Then what will you—” Her voice cut out.
“What will I do when you fly away? I will live the life of a bachelor.”
“Oh.”
“Eva…” He kissed her shoulder. “It is how I intended to live before you arrived.”
“Can we talk about something else, please?”
The quietness in her voice made his heart ache. He stroked her arm, hoping that it would somehow comfort her.
“Why can’t you get pregnant?” he asked.
A smile tugged at her lips. “I was waiting for you to ask me that.”
“Are you infertile?”
“No.” She turned onto her back. “Give me your hand.”
She brought his fingers to a spot beneath her left arm. “Do you feel that? A thin rod beneath my skin. That’s called a birth-control implant. It releases hormones that prevent me from getting pregnant.”
His thoughts scattered like birds after gunfire. A birth-control implant allowed her to make love without consequence. It was unnaturally magnificent, and it strangled his heart with jealousy. Pieces of who Eva was were starting to fall into place and he wondered how many men had had the honour of losing themselves in her warmth. Did she freely give it away to others as she had with him?
She looked at him with a pensive expression.
“And if you were to remove it, could you become pregnant?” he said.
“Yes, and it’s pretty damn instant too, but this sucker will be in me for another five years before the effects wear off.” She intertwined her fingers with his. “You can ask, Henry.”
“Ask what?”
“I can see it in your brooding face that you want to know about the men I’ve been with.”
“I do wonder,” he murmured.
“Seven.”
He went rigid.
She squeezed his hand. “Does that freak you out?”
“That is not a jest?”
“No.”
“Seven men have touched you like this?”
“Eight including you.”
He did not know whether to laugh or talk or shout. How normal she made it sound. Like she had baked eight loaves of bread or read eight books in a week. To be with that many men and before marriage…
She sat up quickly. “Okay, I see I’m losing you, so before you run away screaming that I’m a cock-teasing whore, I need to explain why.”
He fell back onto the mountain of pillows. Eight men.
“We are from different centuries,” she said.
“Yes, I am well aware.”
“I come from a society that prides itself on freedom of religion, free speech, equality of men and women, and most of all the right to love another human without reservations, restrictions, boundaries or rules.”
He ran a hand over his face. Her words made no sense.
“Relationships are built on the concept of love, not prospects,” she continued.
“But seven men, Eva,” he groaned. “Seven men have loved you in this way.”
She fell silent.
He could feel his cheeks flushing. Questions of morals and modesty swirled in his mind. What did she mean by it all?
She withdrew her hand and looked away.
A pang of regret filled him. “I apologize, Eva.” He reached for her hand. “I am trying to understand.”
“I don’t want you to think badly of me,” she whispered.
He sat up. “No, no … I could never. It is only difficult to be reminded of our differences.”
“I had a lonely life, Henry. My life was mostly following Dad around the world for his career, and because of that, I never developed or learned how to maintain long-term relationships with people.”
“That explains your self-reliance,” he said.
“Exactly. I never needed anyone because I could get things done on my own. For the longest time, I thought life was better that way.” She gently punched his arm. “Like you being a bachelor; I was a bachelorette.”
He cracked a smile. “A modern word for spinster, I see.”
“A better, more equal term for an unmarried woman, I’d say.” She poked his chest. “In any case, I eventually realized that living the bachelorette life would probably be a regrettable decision and I decided to try to connect with someone. But it always ended in failure.”
“How so?”
“Well … I think I never really let them into my life out of fear of losing my independence.”
He breathed in deeply. “I see.”
She dropped her head. “That was something I didn’t realize about myself until I met you. Granted, I didn’t really have a choice,” she snorted. “But then you offered me so much more. For the first time in my life, I saw what patient, unconditional love was, and I found myself desperately wanting more of it.”
A thickness caught in his throat.
Unconditional love.
“Was I that obvious about my inner feelings?” he said.
“Oh, yes,” she smirked. “It’s why I pushed you away the first night you came to me at Asheford Hall. I thought you deserved better than someone who jumped into relationships on the premise of shallow infatuations. I really did think it was for the best not to get involved romantically, given that—” She cleared her throat and shook her head.
He knew what she wanted to say. Best not to get involved romantically, given that we will soon be apart.
“I couldn’t stay away from you.” Her voice cracked. “Even now … I can’t…”
He held her face in his palms. “Hush now, no more talking.” He kissed her forehead. “Let us enjoy the now, not the past nor the future. The now.”