He nodded then, rubbing her arms to warm her, inside and out. “I am glad you did. I don’t know what would have become of Georgiana, of all of us for that matter, if you hadn’t. I’m sure Leonora would have given her permission. Do not worry yourself.”
Feeling the burden this secret had been on her heart and soul slowly slip away, Rosabel felt lighter than she ever had. “Thank you for understanding. But there is something else I need to tell you.” Searching his eyes, she carefully chose her words. “You said you felt unworthy because no one ever loved you.” She saw his eyes darken, but pressed on. “You thought no one ever could. But you were wrong.” Relieved, she watched a tiny spark return to his gaze. “However, it is not me I am talking about, but Leonora.”
Instantly, his eyes narrowed and a frown creased his forehead. “What do you mean?”
“She did come to love you,” Rosabel whispered. “Just a few days before she died, she wrote into her diary. I think you should read what she wrote. I know your marriage didn’t start out as one of mutual love, but sometimes things change.” Again she cupped her hand to his cheek that had gone pale at her words. “I hope knowing this will help you believe that you are truly worthy of love.”
For a moment, he just stared at her with blank eyes, and Rosabel was certain that he wasn’t seeing her as his thoughts raced to make sense of what he had learned. Then after a while, he blinked and his gaze refocused on the woman in his arms. The hint of a smile played on his lips. “Thank you for telling me. I…you don’t know what…no, you do know what this means to me.” He nodded. “You understand me like no one else. I don’t feel like I have to hide from you. I can show you my worst fears and insecurities, and you still respect me. Thank you for that.” Again he ran the tips of his fingers over her forehead and down her temple, sending shivers through her body. He cupped her cheek and, gazing into her eyes, brushed his thumb over her lips. “You did not answer my question though?”
Realizing what he meant, Rosabel felt a warm blush creep up her cheeks. She tried to lower her head, but his hand held her in place.
“Can I kiss you?” he whispered, his lips a mere inch from hers, his warm breath tickling her skin.
Starting to feel dizzy, Rosabel dug her fingers deeper into the thick fabric of his sleeves, pulling herself closer against him. A soft moan escaped him as his lips gently brushed hers for a split second. “Can I?” he whispered against her mouth.
As the world began to sway around her, Rosabel managed a single word. As though in slow motion, it travelled from her mind down her nerve endings until her mouth carried it out into the world. “Yes.”
Without losing so much as a second, Graham’s lips came down on hers with a hunger she had never known before. As his arms pulled her closer into him, almost forcing the air from her lungs, his mouth explored hers with a familiarity that shocked her, but only for an instant before she revelled in it. Growing bolder, her hands ran through his hair, then down his cheeks and onto his strong shoulders.
Giving herself over to the moment, Rosabel barely noticed him shift until she felt the rough bark of the willow tree pressing into her back. His hands roamed her body freely, sending jolts of pleasure into every region of her being and making her gasp.
He broke the kiss, and a moan of displeasure escaped her lips.
“I’m sorry,” he panted, brushing a loose strand behind her ear. “I hope I didn’t scare you.”
Seeing the concern in his eyes, Rosabel shook her head. She raised herself on her tiptoes and planted the softest of kisses on his lips. When she leaned back, the worry had left his eyes, leaving nothing but love and devotion. Rosabel revelled in the emotions they evoked.
As he held her close, Rosabel could see the struggle on his face as he tried to keep his distance. She was touched by his concern for her, and yet, a part of her wished he would throw caution to the wind and kiss her breathless again.
When the rain finally let up, they mounted their horses and headed home.
Although the skies still hung with heavy clouds in dark grey waiting for the opportune moment to soak the earth once more, Rosabel’s eyes shone as she took in everything around her. The sun was nowhere to be seen, and a heavy mist clung to the ground, slowing their horses’ tempo to a slow trot. And yet, the world had never seemed so bright. Her heart overflowed, and Rosabel smiled, feeling the corners of her mouth lift up in a most unfamiliar way, as though she had never smiled before.
What would tomorrow bring? Rosabel didn’t know. But whatever it was, she would face it with a happy heart.
After returning their horses to the stables and leaving them to the care of the groomsmen, they headed into the house, climbing the large staircase side by side. Occasionally, their hands would brush against one another, resulting in shy glances cast at the other.
Coming upon their rooms, they stopped and, for a moment, silence returned. As Rosabel’s hands brushed over her damp dress, her fingertips tingled remembering what they had touched not too long ago. Aching to feel him closer to her, Rosabel drew in a deep breath. Now was neither the time nor the place. She turned to enter her room to change out of her wet clothes lest she catch cold. However, before she could take a single step, a strong hand settled on her arm pulling her back.
Even through the damp fabric of her sleeve, Rosabel felt the heat from his hand as he held her back. More than willing, she stepped into his embrace, his eyes shining down at her once more. Then his gaze flitted up and down the corridor, making sure no one was within earshot. He licked his lips, leaning closer until the tip of his nose almost touched hers. “I do not mean to be forward,” he whispered as his breath caressed the skin on her cheeks and down her neck almost like a trail of kisses, “but would you give me permission to visit your chambers tonight?”
***
Holding his breath, Graham saw the slight widening of her eyes, and his heart beat faster. “I won’t hold it against you if you decline my request,” he said, hoping he hadn’t scared her by being so forward. But holding her in his arms, it took every ounce of self-control he had not to sweep her off her feet and carry her to the bed, standing but a few feet behind her, beckoning him forward. “Although I’ll be thoroughly disappointed,” he added, hoping that honesty would not fail him.
She drew in a few quick breaths, her chest rising and falling with each, taunting him, before a shy smile lit up her face. Though she did not say a word, he could see the answer in her eyes and the barely perceptible nod of her head.
Planting a soft kiss on her lips, Graham forced his feet to step back. “All right, then I’ll see you at supper.”
Again she nodded, turned around and disappeared into her room.
For a few more moments, Graham remained where he was, staring at her door, until he could conjure the willpower to walk away to his own chambers.
Chapter Forty-Three − Guilt
While the rain had returned, pounding onto the window panes as though demanding entry, they sat around the dining table over roasted duck and steamed vegetables, listening to Georgiana’s afternoon explorations. “The black one is Midnight,” she explained, naming all six kittens from the new litter born in the stables barely three hours ago. Her face glowed as excitement coursed through her. And while Graham truly enjoyed seeing his daughter so happy, he had trouble hearing what she said as his attention again and again strayed to his wife seated to his right, a mere arm’s length away.
As her delicate hand came to rest on the white table cloth, his own hand twitched with the need to touch her. Gritting his teeth, he drew in a deep breath, fighting to keep his limbs under control. Instead he looked up, eyes finding hers, and the breath caught in his throat.
She was so beautiful and pure and honest. And he realized had he not been blinded by Leonora’s loss, he would never have dared approach her. He would never have thought himself worthy of such a woman. He still wasn’t sure he deserved her, and yet, she was his wife. His. And after tonight, he w
ould finally be her husband in every way.
As Rosabel accompanied Georgiana to the nursery after supper, Graham retired to his room. Feeling his hands tremble with anticipation, he started pacing the floor until he caught something out of the corner of his eye. Right there, on the side table by the armchair under the arched windows rested a small leather-bound book. As he approached, the blood froze in his veins.
As though the ink was still fresh, as though she had only just written the words looking up at him from the smooth page, Leonora’s presence suddenly lingered in the room.
For a moment, Graham was certain that if he turned around now, he would find her standing behind him. The small hairs on the back of his neck rose as a shiver went down his spine.
Shaking himself as though shaking off her ghost as well, Graham couldn’t help but glance over his shoulder.
But there was nothing. No spirit. No ghost. And certainly not Leonora in the flesh.
Exhaling deeply, Graham stepped forward as though walking on glass. Easing himself into the chair, his eyes were already playing with the words on the page. His mind raced. What would he find there? Had Rosabel been right about what she thought she’d read in Leonora’s diary? Or had she misinterpreted her words?
Not certain if he wanted to know, Graham closed the book and leaned back, steepling his fingers and resting his head against them. Could he really not read the page that now lay before him? Would he ever get a good night’s sleep again if he didn’t? Would his mind be at peace not knowing?
Lifting his head, Graham reached for the diary. He had known the answer from the beginning, and yet, he had needed a moment to prepare himself. He opened the book, his eyes settling on the top of the page. The entry was dated a mere week before her accident.
Graham took a deep breath, feeling his hands tremble, and began to read.
Guilt has been my constant companion as of late. I hoped ignoring the truth would somehow erase it, but I now know that this was a hollow wish. Instead, I need to face the truth and learn to live with it.
Thinking back, I now realize that guilt is not a new companion after all. Whenever I look upon the face of my daughter, I feel guilty for keeping her in the dark about her true parentage. Should she ever set foot in the same room with her father, she will not recognize him as such. Nor will he recognize her. Never has he laid eyes on this beautiful child. Again, guilt floods my heart. While I hold nothing dearer than her radiant smile and sweet hugs and kisses, her father will never know the blessing of her presence.
More guilt crushes my heart when I think of my husband. (Graham took a deep breath, closing his eyes for just a second and bracing himself before returning his eyes to the page.) He is a good man. A good friend. Someone who deserves to be loved for who he is. However, from the moment we exchanged our vows, I knew that the love we had for one another was not of equal measure. For the past years, his sad eyes have followed me day in and out, weighing more heavily on my heart with each day that passed.
Until now.
Now, a new guilt has made itself known. While he still looks at me with sad eyes, I have to admit, at least to myself, that my own eyes now see him in a different light. I do not know what has changed, but I am certain something has. All of a sudden, when he enters the room, my heart jumps in my chest. I feel myself blush whenever he looks at me, and my palms become sweaty when his hand holds mine upon escorting me into the carriage. In the beginning of our marriage, I was grateful for his consideration not to enter my bedchamber uninvited. Now, however, I find myself dreaming of his touch.
Do I have the right to love him?
I already promised my heart to another. Do I have the right to break that promise? He did not marry me. He could not. But does the law of man really affect the ways of the heart? Am I betraying my daughter by loving the man she believes to be her father instead of the man who really is?
As her words filled his mind, the emotions that had conjured them touched his heart. The sadness and desperation that rang off the page filled him with sorrow. How could he not have seen her struggle? All these years he had been so focused on his own misery and failed to notice how deep her own ran. More than anything, he wanted to comfort her, assure her that all would be well. But it was too late.
Leonora was gone. There was no way back.
Instantly, guilt washed over him as Rosabel’s face drifted before his eyes. If Leonora had never died, he would never even have met Rosabel. And yet, how could he not wish her alive?
His eyes returned to the shaky handwriting on the page, betraying her emotions far deeper than words ever could, and for the first time Graham felt a connection to the woman he had loved for years on end. The woman he loved to this day. And yet, his love for her had changed too.
Regrets served nothing because they were only that, regrets. They had no power, no effect on the future or the past. A life lived with regret was a life wasted. He knew that now. More than anything, the time spent after Leonora’s death had been a waste. Wallowing in self-pity, he had ignored the beauties life held.
Until Rosabel had fought her way through the wall he had erected around himself. With her gentle determination, she had smashed a hole through its solid bricks, bringing light back into his life.
Firmly closing the diary, Graham stood. Running his hand over the smooth leather of its cover, he finally said his goodbye to the woman who had been his life for so long. He placed the diary on the top shelf of his book case. Not hidden. Not forgotten. But remembered.
Then he turned to the door and, with a smile on his face, walked toward his future.
Chapter Forty-Four − To Hell with the Bloody Vows
Quietly closing the door to the nursery behind her, Rosabel tiptoed down the hall. As she passed her husband’s chamber, her eyes darted to his closed door, and she wondered if Leonora’s words would finally set his mind at ease. Her heart beat against her ribs, and she took a deep breath, knowing only too well how much depended on tonight. Would he be able to let Leonora rest in peace and move on? Would they have a future together? Or would the past still hold its sway over him?
Feeling her skin crawl, Rosabel paced the floor of her chamber, then and there stopping and peering out the window at the night settling over the land. The sky was covered in diamonds, and the moon shone almost at its fullest, its silver light drifting in through the curtains touching the delicate embroidery on her nightgown. From the fireplace a soothing warmth emanated, floating through the room and settling on her chilled skin.
“You look beautiful in this light.”
Rosabel spun around, her heart jumping into her throat.
As her eyes fell on her husband’s laughing eyes, she sank back against the wall, letting out the breath that had lodged in her throat.
“I apologize,” he said, closing the door and coming toward her. “I did not mean to startle you.” His hair was unkempt, yet not in a way that suggested he had been trying to pull it from its roots in sheer frustration. On the contrary, his eyes were bright and glowing and looking at her in a way that sent a tingle down her spine. He had removed his coat, and his shirt hung down unbuttoned. As he moved, it swayed here and there revealing flawless skin.
“It is all right,” she croaked. “I just…I did not hear the door open.”
Standing in front of her, he reached out and took her hands in his. The heat from his skin ignited her blood. It burned hotter and hotter, racing through her veins, filling her with the strangest sensation. Never in her life had Rosabel felt safer than in that moment as her husband held her hands in his, looking into her eyes as though she was the only woman in the world. But then again, a gleaming spark lit up his eyes as they roamed her body freely, and she felt the fire that danced under his skin when he touched her. Danger was lurking just around the corner. And yet,…
As his hands slid up her arms to her shoulders, exploring every inch of her, a shiver crawled up her back, shaking her limbs and making them tremble. The
breath caught in her throat, and her pulse hammered against her skin as though trying to get free.
Only when his hand settled under her chin, gently lifting her head, Rosabel realized that she had averted her eyes. “Are you all right?” he whispered, his gaze searching her face. The heat she had seen there replaced by concern. “You need to be comfortable.” His breath tickled her skin as he spoke. “If you want me to go−”
“No!” The word had left her lips before Rosabel had even fully comprehended his question. Its vehemence shocked her, and she felt the warmth of embarrassment colour her cheeks. Her husband’s face split into a delighted grin as he cupped her face in his large hands. “I too am nervous.”
Biting her lip, she raised her eyes to his, reading honesty in them, and felt her own muscles relax under his touch.
While his gaze never left hers, his hands slowly explored her body, noting every slight change in posture or intake of breath. Her heart still beating far beyond its usual rhythm, Rosabel revelled in the feel of his skin on hers. The shivers excited her, and she felt their pleasure deep within.
As his arms slipped around her and settled on the small of her back, she melted into him, her own hands tentatively resting on his shoulders. When his embrace tightened, she gave in to the pull, feeling the length of his body pressed against hers. Occasionally, she glanced down, peering at the soft skin below her fingertips, only separated from them by a thin layer of fabric.
He pulled her even closer then, holding her in his arms, resting his chin on her shoulder and breathing in her scent. Rosabel felt his warmth envelop her and leaned her own head against his strong chest. With her eyes closed, all sensation entered her body through the soft nerve endings of her skin: the gentle touch of his lips on her neck, his hands stroking her back and up and down her arms.