The Muse (22 page)

He stopped talking and kissed her instead, letting his lips do the convincing for once.  When he could pull away from her sweet lips, he took her face in both of his hands and whispered, adding in some dramatic desperation, “You must—you must stay here with me.  I need you, and I cannot live without you now.”

He felt her relax a little, but she stayed quiet, searching his eyes for understanding.

“Since we are already here, would you like to meet the rest of my family?”

“Yes, of course I would.  And Graham, I need you, too.  Sometimes I don’t think you truly believe that of me.”

Pulling her to him tightly, he let the feeling of relief wrap around him.  “I believe you,
chérie
, and I am so very grateful that you do.” 
More than you will ever know.

He began to lead her around the gallery, stopping first at a single portrait of Jasper at twenty years or so.  Slighter in build, with darker hair, cut shorter, Jasper’s gaze had been captured as slightly irreverent in the painting.  A portent of his brother’s demented character yet to develop done in paint and canvas for all to see if you knew what you were looking for.

“My brother, Jasper,” Graham said stonily before moving on.  Next, he stopped at the large multiple portrait of the cousins.  “My great aunt Mary commissioned this one.”

“Is that all of you as children?  Tell me about it, please.”

“Aunt Mary never married, but doted on us all like grandchildren and wanted to have all of us together in a portrait, so she arranged to have this one done.  Jasper is about ten and five in this image.  I am next at ten and three years old.  My hand is on Colin’s shoulder, who is about eight years.  The boy looking down at the baby is Jules of course; he is twelve, and Elle, the baby, not even one year.”

“Oh, my God, what a treasure for your family.  Your Aunt Mary must have been so forward in her thinking to have this created.  Look at you.  You’re just a boy.  It is very special and so unique, Graham.”

“Yes, it truly is.  I am so happy you understand the importance, and before you say another word about it, you must know that I have every intention of continuing this family tradition.  There will be many family portraits for us.  Our little ones, when they come, will have to learn to sit for them, and you will too.  I must have a whole roomful of just you.”  He touched her hair, and whispered, “Do you feel a little better now?”

“Yes, much better.  You always make me feel so.”

“In that case, let me show you just one more for today.  This is a new addition and I find it stunningly beautiful in execution and in subject.  It was painted by a great master, and features the current Lady Rothvale and her sister, as young ladies.”

“What?  How?  What did you—?”  Imogene drew up to the Opie portrait of her and Philippa that had been commissioned four years ago.  The one that hung at Drakenhurst.  She looked at him to explain.

“I had to have it here so I threw myself upon the mercy of your uncle and cousin Timothy, begging to borrow it so a copy could be made.  This is the original and it will go back to Drakenhurst as soon as the copy is finished.”

“I thought it unusual that it was supposedly having its frame repaired the day you took me to Drakenhurst.  I am pleased to have a copy of it here in your gallery.  It reminds me of happy times in my life.”

She reached out her hand.

He embraced it tightly.

They did not speak.  There was no need.

…Her hair was long, her foot was light

And her eyes were wild.

She looked at me as she did love

And made sweet moan…

John Keats   ~ ‘La belle dame sans merci’, 1820

“YOU
will come to me in my chamber, when you are ready.  You remember where?  Just through those doors,” he indicated with his head, a barely perceptible grin underneath his typical serious gaze.

His words were devastating, cutting into her, hurting her fragile foothold of familiarity with her new home.  It must have shown on her face because he was quick to ask, “What is it, Imogene?”

“Do you wish to—do you wish to sleep separate from me?”

“Never.  Why would you even think such a thing?”

She dropped her head.  “Because you always come to me in my rooms and you have never asked for me to come to you in yours.”

“Do you not wish to come to me?”  There was an edge to his voice.

“I was mistaken.  I wish to come to you. I will come.”  She nodded.  “It’s just so new and different.  This house—I must be out of sorts or something.  The day has been a long one.  I was not sure of what was expected…”

He drew her into his arms.  “Please forgive me,
chérie
.  I fear I have not been as open with you as I should have.  I’ve been distracted and I apologize.  It
has
been a dreadfully long day.  But you have been magnificent.”  He pressed his lips to her forehead.  “I’m so glad you’re here with me, and I merely wish to sleep in the master’s chamber tonight, with you.  To see you there in my rooms, to have you come to
me
there.  I promise I’ll see you pleased,” he said suggestively with a squeeze of a hand on her bum.  “That is all,
chérie
.  You see, I have never taken the master’s chamber before this night.  This is the first time
I
will sleep there.  I never wish to sleep apart from you.  Never.  Imogene, do you believe me?”

“I believe you.”  She nodded into his chest.  “But why did you never claim the master’s place for your own?”

“This is the Lady’s chamber—my mother’s room.  She was installed here.  After my father passed I did not desire to remove her from her place.  She was to be the dowager Lady Rothvale in any case and I could not take the master’s chamber, with her in this one.  It was a small thing and it meant little to me.  I have been away in Ireland since she died anyway, so it was never claimed, until now.”  He touched her face, stroking with the back of his hand.  “One more thing before I forget.  I want you to remodel the Lady’s chamber in any way that pleases you.  Spend what you wish and make it your own space in the style and manner you would like it to be.  It is yours, for you.  Your retreat.  There are to be no ghosts here.”

“Thank you, Graham.  You are very generous.”

“When you are settled then?  Come to me.  I will be waiting for you,” he said, before leaving her alone in her new rooms.

Imogene rang for Hester, and was overjoyed to see her maid.  “Oh Hester, it is so wonderful to see a familiar face.  I fear I am quite worn out.  Tell me, how do you find it here at Gavandon?  Are they being kind to you?”

“Oh yes, my lady, this is a kind house.  I am happy to be here, and, madam, I know you will be as well.”

“I know I will be.” She sighed.

Imogene did not hurry in her preparations for sleep.  The urge to laugh was suppressed because she wasn’t alone, but really, she wouldn’t be doing much sleeping right away.  Graham would make sure of that.

Hester brushed out her hair and helped her into a nightdress with no wrapper.  Imogene guessed he would not care for it, and she would not wear any of it for very long, anyway.  He liked her scandalously naked in bed.

She cleaned her teeth meticulously and took a huge swig of wine to settle her frantic pulse.

What is he up to?  He has me all worked up, and he knows it!  I suppose I am destined for ‘repayment’ due for the teasing I doled out earlier in the coach…

Once Hester had finished her tasks, Imogene bid her a goodnight and slowly crept toward the doors of the master’s chamber.

The door groaned upon entering the room.  Her stomach lurched at the sight that met her eyes.  The room was fairly well lit, enough light for her to see that he was sitting up in the enormous bed.  Shirtless, he leaned against the headboard reading a book, wearing his glasses, hair unbound, the way she loved it.

“You are beautiful.  A beautiful man,” she told him, hoping words would calm, her racing heart a little.

“Come to me.”  He closed his book, removed his glasses and set them both on the bedside table, thoroughly prepared to enjoy the view of her as she moved toward him.

Her watchful Graham.

Imogene walked slowly to the edge of his bed.  “I love your hair this way.”

He nodded slowly, a hint of a grin present.  “I know you do.”

“Is this another ‘indulge-me’ game?”

He nodded again, this time with a full naughty grin.

“What must I do?” she asked, still whispering.

He looked her over before answering deliberately.  “I want you to remove your nightdress and you must look into my eyes the whole time while you do it.”

I was right on both counts.  My nightdress off in less than one minute.  And this is most definitely ‘repayment.’

Imogene swallowed, her breath coming faster.  Moving her hands to the neckline, she slowly untied the fastenings one by one.  She did it by feel because he did not want her to break their gaze.  One shoulder was bared, and then the other as the silk slid apart and off.  As soon as the gown fell to her waist, it was as good as gone.

She realized then, his objective.  He was still watching her face, her eyes.  His intention was not to look at her body, but to look at her reaction to what they were doing, through her eyes.  It was all very controlled and ordered.

“Now what must I do?” she whispered, never taking her eyes off him.

Steepling his fingers together, he set them on the edge of his lips, still looking at her.  He pointed his hands, enunciating each word with them. “I want you to come and sit on me, and face me, and look at me.  Don’t be shy.  Just look into my eyes, and don’t turn away or look down.”

He held a palm out to assist her.

She kept her eyes on his, but didn’t know how she could move her legs.  Her heart was beating so fast she thought it might break out of her body and kill her where she stood.  His request affected her so strongly, she began to shake uncontrollably.  At first just a little, but then the trembling accelerated in intensity quickly as it took hold of her.

Graham held out both palms.  “Take my hands, Imogene.  I will help you.  Just look into my eyes.  That is all you must do, just look at me.”

His voice calmed her a little.  Enough to get her stone-pillar body to take a small step.

Move!  Take his hands and go to him.

She stepped again, taking a hold of his hands, letting him pull her forward, onto him in the bed, her legs folding over him and settling on either side of his hips.  When she sat down on him she could feel his cock hot and hard lying flat on his stomach and pressing into the folds of her sex.  More involuntary shudders racked her through and through.

What is happening?  I cannot breathe…

“Good girl.  Now take a breath and relax,
chérie
.  Just keep looking into my eyes and breathe.  I am looking at you, into your eyes.  I love you so much.  You know I do.”

He did not ask anything more, for a time.  He just continued to look into her eyes as she calmed, and until her breathing had steadied.  “I am going to touch you now…get you ready for me.  I want you to keep looking at me,
chérie,
into my eyes only, and feel everything.  That is what I want to see.  I want to see the fire in your eyes when you take your pleasure…”

She did not lose the hold of his eyes.

Not when he sucked on her nipples and bit them with gentle scrapes of his teeth.

Not when he slid his fingers up inside her and worked on her nubbin until she was slippery wet and aching for more.

And not when he urged her up so he could position her back down onto his erect cock and bury himself deep.

Imogene did as he asked and held onto his burning gaze throughout everything.  She knew he saw what he had wanted to see in her.  Imogene knew it because she was looking at Graham, into his eyes, when it happened to him.

JUST the feel of her quim clenching around his cock was enough for him to come with her.  But feeling it, and then seeing it happen through her eyes was so powerful, and took him so fast, he was barely able to control the experience.  He had to work very hard not to close his own eyes and break their gaze when the orgasmic blast fired through his cock and the spunk shot out.

He heard her.

“Do not look away from me, Graham. I want to see it in your eyes, when the pleasure takes you.”

Imogene had become the watcher.

She sat on him, his cock still twitching inside her, the look on her beautiful face, triumphant and victorious.  Finally she spoke, “I believe we are done here.”

For this moment we are.

He pulled her down to his lips for a passionate kiss, plundering her mouth until he was ready to let her go.

“Why this?” she asked.

“I don’t know.  I just wanted to try.  You know of my secret passion.  I am a watcher.  I like to look and see many things, and this was one of them.  But mostly I just want to watch you at simple times.  I even watch you when you sleep.  I do know I will never tire of it.  I know that to be true.  I will forever want to look at you.”

She grew still, her eyes filling with tears.  One spilled down her cheek.

He brushed it away with his thumb.  “Tears of love and joy—my truest standard of success.”

They stayed quiet for a time, sensing the powerful bond between them.

“I must say,
chérie
, you were quite transformed through the experience.  You began it as the captive, but ended it most definitely the captor, and I know you know it.  You are quite the fighter, facing your fears bravely because you are so valiant.”

“Can a woman be valiant?”

“You certainly are. 
Mon amoureux vaillant…
my valiant lover.”

He squeezed her side in a ticklish move that had her shrieking and laughing and trying to wriggle away.

The happy sounds of laughter and joy, absent for so long from Gavandon had finally returned, and it felt as if the ancient place rejoiced in their happiness, blooming anew.

Later, as she slept beside him, he pondered her earlier distress at believing he would wish to sleep apart.  Imogene had no idea of the real truth and he had not shared it.  He did not want to appear to be so needful.  It was very hard not to reveal the almost unbearable necessity to be close with her and he didn’t wish to be suffocating.  The simple truth was that it would be near impossible for him to sleep anywhere, but at her side.  He adored sleeping with her.  The sound of her breathing, the scent of her, her warmth against him, filled his brain and soothed his ravaged heart like a balm.  Knowing she was right next to him, and that he could reach out and find her soft, warm body, and that she would be there all throughout the night, was tranquilizing.