Elizabeth Elliott (23 page)

“—nothing but worry since you left.”

“—sleep? She looks—”

Snatches of the conversation penetrated Claudia’s hazy senses. A few words here and there, but she gave up trying to make sense of them. They blurred into the deafening sound of rushing water. Or was it a high-pitched wind? The sound seemed to come from inside her head, that realization coming just as the sound started to fade.

“Send up a tray of food. Something filling.”

“Aye, my lord.”

Guy and Evard. Why would she dream of them talking about food? Then she remembered her vision in the solar. She wanted to snap her eyes open to see if the apparition remained, but her eyelids felt made of stone.

“Claudia?”

She wanted to weep. How often had she hoped to hear her name on Guy’s lips just once more? It sounded so real. At last her lashes fluttered open and she feasted her eyes on the sight of him. He looked real, too.

“Claudia? What is wrong?”

She realized dimly that she was in Guy’s bed. He sat on the edge and leaned over her. His brows drew together as he studied her face. “Why are you looking at me that way?”

She could only imagine her expression at that moment. She gathered her muddled senses along with her courage, then extended one finger and poked his shoulder. Rather than the thin air she had expected, he felt solid. She sighed her relief and wrapped her fingers around his wrist. Reassuringly warm, and very solid. “You are not dead.”

His worried expression dissolved into a slow smile. “You needn’t sound so disappointed.”

The teasing words cut to the quick. “You find some humor in my grief?”

“My God.” His smile disappeared. “You really thought I was dead?”

Guy’s image turned watery as tears filled her eyes. That
seemed the only answer he needed. He gathered her in his arms, cradling her as gently as a child. He had shed his surcoat and most of his armor somewhere between his arrival in the solar and the time she awoke in his chamber. Her head rested against his padded leather gambeson, the suede warm and soft beneath her cheek. He smelled of armor and horses, and beneath that, his own comforting scent.

“Do not cry, sweetheart. I am here now. There is no need for tears.” His words only made her cry harder, but he didn’t seem to realize their effect. When she continued to cry, he began to slowly rock her in his arms, as if he wasn’t aware of what he was doing. His voice dropped to a husky murmur. “Hush, love. You are breaking my heart. How could you think I would not come back to you?”

Her answer was a broken sob. He must think her an idiot. She didn’t care. She cried not only for her fears of the past few days, but for everyone she had loved and lost, for the overwhelming relief that Guy was not among their number. She pressed herself closer to his chest, wishing she could press herself so close that he would become a part of her, a part she could always keep safe.

“ ’Twas no more than a roguish band of merce—ah, thieves and reavers,” he said, when her sobs faded to hiccups and sniffles. “Thomas had no idea they had murdered his messenger. He and his men gave chase to the north, thinking we knew their intent. It took us a full day to catch up with the patrol, then another to herd the outlaws they had captured to the stockades at Carlisle. With more than a score of criminals in my care, I had no wish to reduce my number by sending a messenger back to Montague. I suspected you would worry, but I had no idea how much.” She felt his lips at her temple, a kiss as much as a caress. “I swear that I will always come back to you, Claudia. Always. Never doubt that.”

She wanted to believe him. How easy it would be, even knowing that it was a lie, well intentioned, but a lie just the same. Dante had made her the same promise.

Yet Guy was here, and he was safe. She had been granted
the gift of time. Time to fall more deeply in love with him, to surrender her heart completely. This was but a taste of the grief she would know if she allowed him any closer, yet the past days had also taught her the bitter taste of regret. Guy once said that she lived too much in the past, but he was wrong. She lived too much in the future, living for what might be rather than for what was. There was no longer any doubt in her mind that she was meant to be in his arms, whether for a day or a lifetime. Her heart belonged to him already. What else did she have to lose?

Perhaps the price he demanded was not so high after all. She glanced down to where his hand rested against her hip and traced its outline with the tip of her finger. He smoothed his other hand over her hair, long, soothing strokes that made her sleepy. She savored each one, the achingly sweet gentleness of his touch. She wanted to stop time somehow, to stay within his arms in this chamber, just the two of them, forever.

Someone knocked on the door.

Neither of them moved, but Guy released a deep sigh. “ ’Tis our meal. Are you hungry?”

She shook her head, hoping he would ignore the knock.

He brushed a kiss against her forehead, then shifted her weight onto the bed. “You look thinner than when I left. I think you will feel better if you eat something.”

The door opened at Guy’s order and Stephen entered, carrying a tray laden with food. As the squire took the tray to the table, Guy walked behind the curtains that divided the room, then returned a moment later with a small linen towel.

“That will be all,” he told Stephen. “Have water heated for my bath. I will let you know when I am ready for it.”

The squire bowed, then departed. Guy crossed the room and handed Claudia the towel. “Dry your eyes, sweet, and we will share a meal together. We have much to discuss.”

His gaze swept over her and the appreciative look in his eyes gave her a good idea of what he wanted to discuss. She dabbed at her eyes and nose, suddenly anxious to avoid their
meal. She wasn’t ready to put her feelings into words, or to hear any new bargain he might try to make with her. The bargain was made already.

“I would dine in my robe if you have no objection,” Guy said, even as he unlaced his gambeson. “These clothes smell of my horse, and I am heartily sick of that beast’s company.” He tossed the tunic aside and began to unlace his shirt as well, but stopped when he realized she was watching him. A spark of desire lit his eyes and his hands dropped to his sides. “Our food grows cold.”

“ ’Tis ham and bread from the midday meal, my lord.” She stood up and set the towel aside, her gaze locked with his, but she made no move toward the table. Food was of little interest. What she hungered for stood before her. “ ’Tis cold already.”

“Then we should not let it grow too warm,” he said, even as he reached for her. She went unresisting into his arms, but he shook his head. “There are things we must talk about, Claudia.”

She laid her fingers over his lips. “I have yet to give you a proper welcome home, my lord. You once said that I could kiss you if I wished.”

His arms tightened around her, yet he remained silent until her fingers slid away from his mouth. “Guy,” he murmured. “I would have you call me by—” He stopped in mid-sentence and cupped her face between his hands, his touch almost hesitant. “Do you know what you are telling me?”

She managed to nod. “You said that I must be the one to kiss you, that you would not make my decision for me.” Her gaze dropped to his mouth. “I have made my decision, Guy.”

“You are distraught,” he said, his voice uncertain. “I have no wish to take advantage of you.”

She turned her head and placed a kiss in the center of his palm, strangely pleased to hear the sharp intake of his breath. The affect she had on him made her bolder. She leaned closer to him, sure in the knowledge that what she was doing was right. “Will you deny me?”

His fingers splayed wider, stroking her face and neck. “How can I?” he whispered. “You have the face of a saint, yet you awaken the sinner in me each time I look at you. Each time we touch.”

He did not wait for her kiss. He covered her mouth with his, not hard or punishing, but no less than possessive. His hand cradled the back of her head as he deepened the kiss and she drank in the taste of him, returning his kiss full measure. Her fears began to fade away, fast replaced by the warmth of desire. All the longings he had awakened the first time he touched her stirred to life again, longings made stronger with each kiss and caress that taught her the meaning of passion. An uncontrollable force inside her yearned to learn more. If it was sin, she knew why there were so many sinners.

One strong arm wrapped around her waist, the feel of his powerful body and the circling protection of his arms all that mattered in the world. This was what his eyes promised each time he looked at her, the fire that would burn out of control when she surrendered to it. They would burn together. She didn’t care.

His hand slipped lower to caress her hips with startling familiarity. He made a sound deep in his throat and his arms tightened around her, lifting her higher until her feet no longer touched the floor. He held her so tight that she could barely breathe, yet it was instinct that made her secure her dangling weight. She lifted her legs to wrap them around his waist. Her wide, gathered skirts made it an easy task, yet she was unaware until that moment of how intimate the position would be.

Guy tore his mouth away from hers, and she felt him shudder. His forehead dropped to her shoulder, as if she were the one who held him up and not the other way around. He began to nuzzle her neck, then the curve of her ear. “Take care, Claudia. You will have me on my knees.”

His deep voice vibrated through her, a caress she hadn’t known possible, a flash of lightning that struck deep inside
her. Her hands tangled in his hair to pull him closer, seeking the center of the storm itself. The room tilted and she realized he had knelt on the bed to lay her down against the pillows, yet they were still joined as intimately as when they were standing. She couldn’t seem to let go of him. She shifted restlessly beneath him. His hand went to her hip, his grip firm enough to hold her still. “Easy, love. I would not have this end before it begins.”

Her brows drew together, her voice uncertain. “I am too wanton?”

She shifted her legs as if to move away. His arm wrapped around her hips to keep her from moving. That only brought him into closer contact with the warm, soft core of her, the few layers of clothing between them not nearly enough to shield him from her heat. Yet Claudia looked worried, as if she were doing something she shouldn’t.

Guy tried to give her a reassuring smile. It wasn’t his most successful effort. “Nay, sweetheart. There is no such thing as too wanton where you are concerned.”

She started to wriggle again, another belated attempt at a more modest position. His groan made her stop.

“You make a face each time I move,” she whispered. “If it is not my brazenness that displeases you, then what?”

She really had no idea of the exquisite torment she was putting him through. He wanted to laugh. He would settle for the ability to take a few deep, steady breaths. “I like you brazen, even more than I like you wanton.” He stroked her cheek with the back of one finger, annoyed to see his hand tremble. “ ’Tis I who am too impatient. I want to be gentle with you, introduce you slowly to the pleasures we will share.”

She seemed to mull this over. The ache in his loins became nearly unbearable. That was nothing new. He had spent the last four days in a near-constant state of arousal. How often had he daydreamed of the time when he would hold her in his arms again, of all the erotic things he wanted to do to her? The fantasies haunted each hour of the nights he had
spent apart from her. The reality made the fantasies seem tame in comparison.

If there was any hope of slow, gentle lovemaking, he needed to regain control of himself. That would not happen while cradled between her thighs. He resolved to roll away from her, perhaps pace around the room a few times, yet he was captured by the feel of her soft body beneath his, the sight of her kiss-swollen lips, the glittering green of her eyes. She had an effect on his senses that he had never experienced, a newfound awareness that focused itself entirely on the woman in his arms. His skin burned everywhere their bodies touched. Every color seemed brighter, from her crimson lips to the burnished mahogany of her hair. Her cheeks were the color of pale, pink roses, and the smell of those delicate flowers came to him along with another faint aroma that made his nostrils flare. He drew a deep breath to savor the heady scent of her arousal.

His gaze drifted lower, to the enticing swell of her breasts. A frown creased his brow when he realized the gown must lace up at the back or the sides. He needed to remove her gown, wished he had thought of that before he found himself in this position. Perhaps he would ask her to undress while he watched, envisioned the sight of her standing before him as she stripped herself bare. His hips arched against her of their own accord, returning his thoughts to the present, very pleasurable state of affairs. The gown could wait.

“I like to touch you,” Claudia said, in her soft, sultry voice. “There are times when I want so badly to touch you that it hurts not to.” She lifted one hand to his face and brushed her fingertips along his cheek. When they moved over his lips and down his neck to his chest, he felt as if she had raked a live coal over his skin. He tried to focus his concentration, to comprehend what she was saying. “You do not seem impatient to me. I think you are the most patient, gentle man I know.”

Patient?
Gentle?
He felt like a wild animal, ready to devour her whole. To hell with her gown. His mouth came down
hard on hers, even as he tried not to hurt her. Her lips were bruised already from his kisses. They would soon be swollen even more. His body moved with a mind of its own, all touch and sensation. One hand trailed down her leg to slip beneath the hem of her skirt, then smoothed a slow, delicious path up again, over the sensitive spot behind her knee, along a sleek thigh. He wanted to lean back to see if her legs were as long and shapely as they felt. He couldn’t stop kissing her. His hand decided to test the curve of her bared hip instead, finding her softer than anything he had imagined. She was all but naked beneath him.