In the Wake of the Wind (27 page)

“Are you out of your mind?” Aiden said incredulously. “Bring my father to London, where one wrong word out of his mouth could sink us?”

Serafina’s hand slipped over his, her fingers curling into his palm. “He won’t go wrong, I’m sure of it. If there’s anyone you should worry about going wrong, it is me. You already know your father wishes to make amends, and what better way to let him than to take him with us?”

Aiden could refuse her nothing, especially when she
looked at him with that earnest, trusting expression that never failed to turn him inside out. “Very well. My father may come along,” he said, sure he was sealing his doom.

“And Charlotte?” she said, smiling up at him now, his downfall. “Would you ask Charlotte to come as well? She’s so much better, and I’m sure she’d enjoy herself if we were careful about not overtaxing her.”

“Charlotte?”
Raphael interjected.
“Serafina,
you cannot be serious. You know how she is—she only leaves the house on Sunday, and that’s a chore for her, despite her religious fervor.”

“But Raphael,”
Serafina
said brightly, “you haven’t seen her for ages. She’s so much improved that I do believe she will consider the idea. Don’t you think she deserves a chance to see London, to be exposed to people of her own kind? And who knows, she might even meet a man to admire her—she is a beautiful woman, even if she is confined to a chair.”

Aiden thought for the hundredth time that Serafina’s head was filled with fairy dust. But then, she hadn’t been wrong so far. “I’ll present the idea to her,” he said reluctantly. “But don’t be disappointed if she refuses. I suppose you’re next going to ask me to invite your Aunt Elspeth along?” He hoped to God that wasn’t her intention, for he wasn’t sure he could bear the idea.

“Oh, no,” she said to his intense relief. “Auntie would hate London. She’ll be happiest here, working on her spe—I mean her medicines.”

Raphael abruptly turned his back with a smothered cough, and Aiden shot him a suspicious look, wondering if
Rafe
knew more about Elspeth Beaton’s unconventional habits than Aiden realized. But
Rafe
turned back again, his face a mask of innocence. “Excuse me. A slight cold. I have to say that I think your wife’s proposition is wise, Aiden. Your father and sister’s presence will only add an impression of family unity.”

“Yes. Yes, I suppose it will.” Aiden nodded decisively. “Then write your mother. Tell her that we’ll be appearing on her doorstep the last week of June. I hope to God that this isn’t a mistake,
Rafe.”

“No mistake,” his cousin replied. “No mistake at all. I can’t think of a wiser decision you could have made. And I’ll be with you through every step of the way.”

“Then we’ll all be in good hands,”
Serafina
said, smiling warmly up at Raphael, who returned her smile with equal warmth.

Aiden looked at them both hard, assailed again by the faint but persistent sense that there was more between
Serafina
and Raphael than met the eye.

He quickly dismissed the thought as absurd.

S
erafina tossed fitfully that night. It didn’t help that Aiden lay at her side sleeping peacefully, his back turned toward her, his breathing deep and even while her head spinned with troubled thoughts. She thought it was most unfair that he could sleep at all, especially after everything that had happened today.

She hadn’t said a word about her misgivings to Aiden, but she didn’t look forward to going to London, certain she was bound to make a fool of herself. She might marginally be able to perform like a lady in the safety of Townsend, but braving society was a far more daunting proposition.

Nevertheless, she saw the necessity if Aiden was to regain his family’s honor. She would simply have to find a way to manage. If poor Charlotte, who rarely ventured outside the walls of the house, was brave enough to agree to the trip,
Serafina
had no right to be nervous.

But an even larger, more terrifying question hung over her. Today Aiden had given her a clear taste of just how nice it could be to submit to his embrace, to the touch of his wicked roguish hands.

Fire sparked low in her belly when she thought of the exquisite sensations he’d ignited in her, sensations that before this she’d only dreamed about. If Raphael hadn’t come along when he did, she had no idea of what might have happened. But Raphael’s appearing had been a blessing in disguise, for if she were to give herself to Aiden, it had to be for the right reasons, not because she was caught up in a fit of mindless lust.

She’d told Aiden the truth—that she liked him. And she did, enormously. She liked his self-deprecating humor, the way he laughed at the silliest things. And she liked his honesty in the moments he chose to give it to her, even at his own expense.

She especially liked the way he’d looked at her this afternoon after she’d taken her tumble, his beautiful eyes filled with deep concern as he pulled her into his arms, his voice hoarse with worry.

She felt truly cherished for the first time since her father had died, as if her well-being was of real importance to Aiden, even if he didn’t love her. But she was beginning to think maybe love didn’t matter so much—maybe it was enough that he cared about her and that she cared about him. And she did. Very, very much, more than she’d ever have thought possible when she’d married him.

She felt an affinity with him now, and if she were really to be honest with herself, she’d felt that same affinity from the first day in the woods, as if he were someone she’d always known, had always been comfortable with. It was she who had pushed him away because she’d been in love with a figment of her imagination. She’d since discovered that figments didn’t bear up to the light of scrutiny. But Aiden had, contrary to all her expectations.

He was right—he was no prince. But she really didn’t want a prince, not anymore. She wanted Aiden, just as he was, flesh and blood. She loved him for the man he was, complete with flaws.

Serafina
shot bolt upright in bed. She stared down at the covers, her fingers clutching the blanket as if to anchor herself against the shocks that raced through her, shaking her to the core of her being.

Was it possible that she
did
love him? The idea seemed preposterous. People didn’t fall in love just like that. She hardly knew him—they’d only met six weeks ago, and four weeks of that time they’d spent apart. He was a man of the world, she knew nothing at all of it. And yet … and yet she couldn’t deny that he was constantly on her mind, that she wanted to be with him and missed him when he was busy with other things. And she couldn’t deny that she found him tremendously attractive, that he turned her bones to water whenever he touched her.

Serafina
shivered, remembering how his warm hand had felt when it cupped her breast, his thumb teasing her nipple until it sprang up under his touch. He’d made her moan with desire today until she couldn’t think, could barely breathe. She only knew she wanted more of him, more of his caresses. And she knew that Aiden wanted her too in the same way. He had made no pretense about that from the very beginning.

But tonight, for the first time, she understood what it was to live in a state of physical longing.

She began to see that much of the reason that she’d fought against Aiden so hard had been a result of simple fear, fear that he didn’t really care about her, fear that he’d physically hurt her. But Aiden had given her every reason to believe that he did care about her, even if he didn’t love her, and that he would be gentle with her. She snuck a glance down at him, remembering what he’d said to her under the oak tree the day they were married.

I promise you that I’ll come to you in tenderness and
with
the desire to please you…

She believed him about that. On the other hand, he had cleverly sidestepped the part about impaling her. The version of lovemaking he’d handed her had included joining bodies, but he’d made it sound like a delightful coupling instead of a violent assault.

Maybe he hadn’t wanted to frighten her. Or maybe, since he hadn’t realized he was speaking to his future wife, he had simply left out the most important details, reasoning that it wasn’t his responsibility to give her the grim news.

She might just have to summon up her courage and ask him for the absolute truth. They certainly couldn’t go on like this forever, especially given the way she felt about him, how much she wanted him. It seemed a hopeless situation.

She lay down again and pulled the covers up to her chin, thinking back to her dreams. They’d been so nice … always so nice, so full of love and happiness and desire.

Adam, kissing her in the meadow, whispering intimate promises in her ear.
I’ll renew my own pledge in the flesh the
minute
I have you to myself…

And she had wanted him to. She had desperately wanted him to, at least in a dream. Was real life any different? She wanted Aiden just as much, even if she didn’t know anything about the conclusion of the matter, but she expected she’d find out about that soon enough whether she liked it or not. She’d learned the hard way that life had to be lived in the present, attendant with all its grim realities. Nothing could be counted on, nothing foreseen.

Serafina
yawned, suddenly overwhelmingly tired. She turned onto her side, tucking her fists under her chin, casting one last look at Aiden’s strong back. Her last thought as she gave herself over to sleep was that at least she had love to guide her through.

“My love,
my sweet love,” Adam said, his hands spreading beneath her, running over her back, cupping her buttocks, raising her to him, his tongue tracing a hot circle on her breast.

She made a gasping sound of pleasure in her throat as his fingers found her female flesh, gently slipped between the moist folds, stroking her into liquid fire until she pushed up against him with a sharp cry.

“Adam! I love you
—oh,
how I love you,” she sobbed, wanting him as she’d never wanted anything. She’d waited so long and now he was finally hers and she was his, and they were free at last to be together as God had planned.

He groaned, his legs moving between her thighs to spread them, the heat of
his
body scorching her everywhere he touched. His hard shaft moved to her entrance, his shoulders
rising
and falling with harsh pants as he prepared to enter her. “Sarah … you must be the most beautiful woman God ever created.”

He pushed into her as he spoke, stretching her wide, then pushed again. “Oh, my sweet love—you’re so tight. I don’t … I don’t want to hurt you,” he groaned, coming up against the barrier of her maidenhead, and she cried out in pain, reflexively trying to jerk away.

“Sarah, beloved, try to relax.” He smoothed his hands over her hair. “My darling,
I have
to—I have to do
this
quickly. It will all be over in a moment, I swear it.” He thrust hard into her as he spoke.

She cried out, but this time not in pleasure. She felt as if he were going to split her open at any moment, searing pain shooting through every fiber of her being.
“No—oh,
no!” she sobbed, trying to pull away from him as he plunged deeper, penetrating her completely. “It hurts so! Adam, it hurts!”

He went completely still, holding her tightly. “I’m sorry, my love—I’m so sorry. Wait. Wait just a minute and the pain will ease.”

“No!” she cried, terrified that he would move again, break her to pieces. “Oh, Mother Mary, help me!”

“It’s all over now, sweetheart—you were just having a bad dream. I’m here. Nothing will hurt you, I swear it…”

She gulped back another sob, burying her head in his shoulder. And then she came awake with a jolt as she breathed in Aiden’s unmistakable scent, warm and masculine. Aiden’s arms held her tightly, and it was his voice that soothed and comforted her.

“Ai-Aiden,” she stammered, tearing herself out of his grasp. She sat up and wiped her eyes, wet with tears. “What—what happened? What are you doing?” For a terrible moment she thought that he had taken her in her sleep and that was what had caused her such pain.

He gently stroked her hair. “You had a nightmare. Better now?”

She nodded, realizing that she’d been dreaming. “I—I think so. Oh, Aiden, it was awful…”

“So I gathered,” he said, sitting up next to her. “You were howling like a banshee. Do you want to talk about it?”

“
You
lied
to me,” she said illogically, wiping her hands over her eyes again.

“I did? In what way?” he said calmly, taking her outburst in perfect stride, as if he listened to anguished outbreaks every day.

“You said it was nice, that I’d like it. And I didn’t like it at all. It was painful and horrible, and it’s true about being impaled after all!”

“What in the name of God are you talking about?” he said, regarding her with a mixture of concern and puzzlement.

“You
know
what I’m talking about,” she said, wrapping her arms around her midriff. “You said you do it all the time.”

“I haven’t the first idea of what you mean. All I know is that you woke me from a deep sleep, carrying on about Mother Mary.” Aiden ran his hands through his tousled hair. “Why don’t we start at the beginning? What was painful and horrible, and what on earth do you mean by being impaled?”

“You know perfectly well,” she said accusingly. “What you want to do to me. All the fine things you said about lovemaking were nothing more than a device to have your horrible way with me.”

Aiden stared at her as if she’d lost her mind. “You’re telling me that you had a dream about my making love to you, and
that’s
the conclusion you reached?” He burst into laughter. “Ah, sweetheart, you really are difficult to fathom sometimes. Was all of this brought on by what passed between us this afternoon?”

“I have no idea what brought the dream on,” she said, still shaken. She adjusted her nightdress around her knees. “I only know that it was the truth.”

“Oh, I see,” he said with a broad grin. “And now you know all about it, do you?” He shook his head. “You have the most active imagination of anyone I’ve ever met.”

Serafina
had to agree with him on that point. But that didn’t mean that she was wrong. “My imagination has nothing to do with it. Auntie was right after all,” she said, glowering at him. “You do all sorts of nice things to me until it comes to the moment of truth, and then out comes your flagpole and—and you tear me to pieces while you
impale
me with it.”

Aiden covered his face with one hand. “A
flagpole
?” he said in disbelief. “Your aunt told you I was going to impale you with a flagpole?” His voice caught on another laugh.

“Yes. And you’re going to draw my blood when you do. I imagine by the time you’ve finished I’ll have nary a drop to call my own. It will serve you right if I expire on the spot.”

Aiden threw his head back and howled. “I—I’m sorry,” he gasped after a minute. “I don’t mean to make light of your worries. But oh,
God
this explains a great deal about your reluctance to be with me. The very idea of your aunt tutoring you in this regard …” Aiden wiped tears away from his eyes. “What the devil makes you think your spinster aunt knows the first thing about lovemaking?” He regarded her quizzically.

“She is a highly knowledgeable woman,”
Serafina
said defensively. “She can deliver babies, and as far as I can gather, giving birth is just as painful. I think she knows whereof she speaks.”
Serafina
crossed her arms over her chest and regarded him balefully.

“Oh, really,” he said dryly. “And what else has your aunt told you, other than feeding you a lot of tripe about flagpoles?” His face twisted up again.

“She said that it was a bloody process,”
Serafina
replied, wanting to slap his laughing face. It was all well and fine for Aiden to take her plight lightly, but she knew the truth. Now she
really
knew.