Philippa arrived into the room then and pulled Imogene to the couch where she held her and listened as the whole terrible business was spilled out to them.
John and Philippa were quiet when she was done explaining. They shared a serious look together before Philippa said, “I have to tell her, John. I take full responsibility. Graham won’t bother with me. Women who are eight months gone are quite fearsome indeed,” she remarked wryly. John solemnly nodded his agreement to his wife.
“What is it? Please tell me before I lose my mind.”
“Imogene, there is something you need to know about Graham, about his mamma. I do not know why he has not told you, but regardless I am going to tell you now. Her death was tragic…gruesome, Graham alone left to deal with it. I believe he was so affected by the circumstances, that her death was the driving force of his staying in Ireland for so long. His mamma loved to ride, as you do—”
Imogene stopped her sister from speaking. “No! No, no, no. I can guess what you are going to say next. He told me once, that his mother was a great rider.” She felt cold, bitter fear grab hold of her heart as she resigned herself to hearing the rest of the story. Imogene squeezed Philippa’s hand for strength.
“Lady Rothvale rode nearly every day and often alone, and one day she did not return. Graham found her. She had suffered a bad fall, was gravely injured, and made worse by lying in a cold field for hours, never regaining consciousness, and lingering for weeks before dying. Graham suffered and bore the entirety of it as his brother was not even in England at the time and she was gone before he could return. It was very sad, very painful. So you can see how Graham has a justifiable fear of your riding solitary. Imogene, he acted through fear because he loves you so.”
Imogene dropped her face into her hands and cried some more. Her heart broke for Graham and her part in hurting him afresh. “What have I done? I am a terrible wife. I must go home and beg his forgiveness, now. Right now. I have to return home right now!” She tried to rise from the couch in her panic.
Philippa and John both said, “No.”
“But I must go to him,” Imogene wailed.
Philippa gently held her arm. “You must stay here for the night. It is getting dark and you cannot travel at night alone. It isn’t safe.”
“If I left now I could be home in an hour. It’s not that far.”
“No, Imogene. Philippa is correct, you must stay for the night now,” John admonished.
“But why?” she sobbed.
“Because I value my life!” John exclaimed. “Imogene, your husband would string me up if I allowed you to leave alone in the dark of night. Think, Sister. The same reasons that caused your quarrel today would bring about the same fears in him if we let you go back tonight. I am sorry, but you will have to stay. You can return home early tomorrow if you wish. I’ll go see to your driver and set him up for overnight.”
Then Imogene stopped resisting and accepted her fate. She guessed it was appropriate punishment for her spitefulness, and would have gladly borne it if she didn’t know that Graham was suffering as well, all by himself, at home, without her. That thought alone pierced her with the most acute pain she had ever felt. It was worse even than the immeasurable pains she had felt over her parents.
Philippa pulled her gently. “Come. Let’s go in to dinner.”
“No, I am unable to eat a thing. You go, darling. I’ve made myself ill and I should like to just go to bed. Perhaps some tea could be sent up if it’s not too much trouble. I apologize for bringing this here into your home. I am wretched, a horrible wife, a terrible sister, and a selfish person. Please forgive me, Phil. Forgive me.”
“You are none of those things and there is nothing to forgive. We love you and are here to support you in any way that we can. This will sort itself out, you will see. You and Graham have been through a great deal. Be easy on each other.” Philippa kissed her on the forehead. “Go up to bed. I’ll come see you after dinner.”
Imogene went up to her room, dressed for bed, and washed her face. The cool water felt good. What she really needed was a literal baptism of water to soak away all of the sins she felt on her. Imogene did feel truly ill. Her stomach lurching around in her gut was most unpleasant on top of her emotional state.
A maid delivered tea, which Imogene gratefully accepted.
She sipped her tea and thought about what she would say to Graham tomorrow when she got back home.
GRAHAM decided he would give her this one night away. If she did not return in the morning he would go and get her. Yes, he was decided. One night without her would hurt to be sure, but he told himself he could stand it. He kept telling himself that as he went through the motions of the late afternoon and resolved to endure her absence. Trying hard, he really thought he could do without her; that is until it was time to go to bed and she was not there.
Wearily leaving his study to head upstairs, the dog passed in front of him. Zuly looked at him as if he were a pile of dung in the middle of the room. Graham and Zuly stared at each other for a moment.
It was just the impetus he needed.
Turning, he grabbed his coat, dashed to the stables, and found the determination to do what he should have done hours ago. Triton was saddled and racing down the road before the clock had passed the half-hour.
He was desperate to get to her, desperate to tell her why, desperate to hold her.
Just desperate.
When Graham arrived at Harwell House John greeted him warmly, “Ah, Graham, you actually arrived sooner than I expected you. Be of ease, man, I will not harass you too much as I can see you’ve your hands plenty full.” He grinned and slapped him on the shoulder.
“John, hello. She is safely here then? I should have never let her go,” he said, twisting his gloves mercilessly in his hands.
“Imogene is here and she is safe. Very, very distraught over hurting you, but she is fine.”
“She knows then. Did you tell her?”
John shook his head. “Philippa did. And before you get upset with my wife, I must ask why in the hell didn’t you tell her?”
Graham held up his hands in surrender. “I am not upset with your wife. How did Philippa even know of it?”
John sighed deeply. “Well, I think from a servant or something. Remember, it had not been a very long time in happening when I married her and I think a maid came from Gavandon to work here. Regardless, she knew. In fact, when we heard the news of your engagement, Philippa spoke to me of her concerns about this very matter. She worried that Imogene’s riding might cause a patch of trouble for you.”
“She did?”
“Yes, truly she was worried about it. The Byron-Cole ladies are not lacking in their mental faculties, Graham, as I am sure you have found. Philippa knows of Imogene’s riding predilections, and knowing the circumstances of your mother’s death, thought there might be some bumps along the way between you. God, man, why didn’t you tell her? I don’t wish to put you down lower than you feel now, but you do know you could have saved yourself a lot of trouble if you’d just been open with your wife. I know Imogene is emotional, but she is very considerate of others, and reasonable. Except for tonight. God!”
“What? Tell me. What did she do?” Graham feared what John would say.
John shook his head. “The poor thing was desperate to get back to you. We had to force her to stay. She was determined to return home tonight, in the dark, alone on the road. By the time she finally accepted she must stay, she’d made herself so ill she could not even take her dinner, and had to go up to bed.”
Graham hissed through his teeth, “What a bloody cock-up I’ve made of everything.”
“I won’t disagree with you, Brother, but I’ll let you work that out with your wife. You will stay tonight as well.” John was adamant.
“I don’t know how to thank you, John. I am indebted to you and Philippa.”
“Nonsense.” John clapped him on the back hard. “We are family now. What good is family if
not to share in the misery, eh?”
“You are a good man.” Graham thanked him again.
“Go to your wife. Upstairs, third room on the right.”
Graham let himself out of John’s study and made his way up the stairs, meeting Philippa at the top.
“Philippa,” he greeted gently. “Please forgive me for the mess I’ve made of everything. I am so sorry for bringing this down on you and John, and your household.”
She took his hands in hers, smiled and shook her head at him. “Graham. You know, Imogene said almost those same exact words to me? So I’ll tell you what I told her. There is nothing to forgive, nothing at all. We are your family and this is our right. I know you would do the same for us.” She tried to lighten him just a little by teasing. “Now, if you had not come tonight, then maybe there would be something to hold against you.”
Graham closed his eyes for just a moment, her words cutting right to his heart. He squeezed her hands. “You are extraordinary, as is she.”
“She is just there in that room.” Philippa pointed. “Very sad for hurting you. I have never seen her so heartbreakingly sad. Even through all of the other tragic business she has borne. But I know you can fix it, Graham. Only you can. Goodnight.”
Philippa left him there, walking slowly away, one hand holding her back, the other on her belly. Graham thought she looked beautiful. He wondered if Imogene would look like Philippa did right now, one day, when she was heavy with his child.
He knocked softly on her door. When there was no answer he slowly pushed it open.
She was sitting at a writing desk composing frantically. Her back was to him, so she did not see him, but she heard him. He saw her stop writing and slowly turn her head.
Her feet hardly touched the floor as she launched herself at him.
He was ready and his arms were open to catch her.
They held on to each other for a long time, the same words coming from their lips in unison, “I am so sorry—”
Graham interrupted, “Me first, please?” Carrying her over to the bed, he sat and faced her. “Imogene, chérie, my love, I have wounded you appallingly. I spoke to you cruelly and harshly, hating myself for doing it, but I was so, so terrified beyond imagination that you were hurt or worse. I think I lost my mind while I was looking for you, ceasing to be myself. This is not an excuse, I realize, and I alone must accept my actions. Now, I am aware that you’ve been told of the circumstances of my mother’s death. It was wrong of me to keep it from you. Even now I cannot talk about it much because I believe I have laid her to rest, truly. Those feelings of terror, dread, and panic, came screaming through me when I discovered you were out alone—I was transported back there to that time with her all in an instant. But this time it was you…and the pain and fear was many times worse. There is no one that I love more than you. I have not loved, and cannot love anyone more than I love you. Now, I must say the last part and I fear to say it, but I must anyway. Even with everything that has been said today and regretted, I still must insist that you do not ride solitary. I cannot risk you. If you go alone you put yourself at risk, and I cannot allow such a situation. I love you more than my own life—”
Imogene stopped him. Putting her fingers to his lips with tears pouring down her cheeks, she shook her head. “You need not worry. I vow to you I will never ride alone again. Graham, I would give it up. I would give it up freely and never ride a horse again if you asked it of me. Nothing is more important in my life than you. Nothing. If you are not happy, I cannot be. Hurting you today left me empty and filled with pain. I am embarrassed and disgraced for leaving you in anger. I regret that one thing more than anything else and I will never do it again, I promise. It is my hope that someday you will trust me once again.” Imogene put her face in her hands, her eyes glistening at him over her fingertips.
Graham pulled her in closer. “Shhh. I trust you, Imogene. You have never been in danger of losing my trust. Even today, I understood you did not intend to deceive. You believed the promise to be a different one than I thought it to be—a misunderstanding. I would never wish to take your riding away from you either. I couldn’t do that. Maybe Ben can trail you? He is a fine lad and very trustworthy. I’ll go with you, make time for you. When Elle comes or Cariss or Jemima, they can join you. We will work it out. It is my fault for not being open with you. Hold me accountable for everything, no fault or blame fall to you. We will put this ugly experience behind us, yes? What do you say, chérie?”
“Yes…please. I never wish to feel like that again. I have been ill because of it. You are here now and I am so grateful.”
“I should have never let you go in the first place—I should have begged you to stay, it was stupid of me.” He put his cheek to hers and caressed her back, holding her. “What were you writing when I came in?”
“I was trying to organize my words to say to you tomorrow. I wanted to come home, but it was too late and Philippa and John said I’d have to stay the night. Knowing sleep would have eluded me in my wretched condition, I was writing out what I wanted to say to you.”
“Let’s get you into bed. I want to lie down next to you, and hold you. I want to know you are here beside me the whole night long.”
She pushed out a heavy sigh. “Those are the best words I have heard this whole day.”
IMOGENE woke the next morning in Graham’s arms with deep green eyes staring at her. “Good morning, my beauty,” he whispered.
She took in the sight of him lying next to her in his clothes—and his boots? He was fully clothed, same as he had been last night when he’d come. Imogene had to ask. “Did you not come to bed? You’ve slept in your boots?”
“Well, I came to bed; I just don’t think I slept really. I watched you sleep.”
“You must be joking. Why would you punish yourself so?”
He shook his head firmly. “I had need of my wife. I needed to hold you and reflect upon things. I had everything I needed in this world. It was not a punishment. I have told you before I can never tire from watching you. It is not possible.”
“Take me home,” she whispered.
“Thank Christ!” He moved off the bed and held out his hand to assist her, needing no further encouragement. “How do you feel this morning? Are you still feeling ill?”
“I am completely well today.” He looked relieved and kissed her gently.
“I am going down to see to Triton and the carriage while you dress. I’ll meet you there as soon as you are ready.”
Imogene nodded her agreement and smiled at his very evident eagerness to get away.
The carriage ride was slower than usual. Triton had to be tethered and led along as he was not a carriage horse and Graham would not consider riding him home. He sat in the carriage with Imogene, her body pulled right up against his side.
They were quiet, content to just be beside one another.
Soon though, Imogene felt Graham’s head list her way. He had fallen asleep, the side of his head resting upon her breasts for a pillow. She held him there, relishing the giving of comfort to him. He needs me. Just for today I wish we lived fifty miles from Philippa and John…
As the carriage pulled up the drive to Gavandon, Graham awakened. He stretched a little, took in his surroundings and lifted his head.
Imogene spoke reproachfully, “You need sleep.”
He grinned at her. “But I did, and it was very pleasant.” He directed a knowing look at her bodice. “I would like to continue the sleeping in our bed,” he said darkly.
“Sounds perfect.”
As they entered the house Imogene sensed a change in his demeanour. They were home, in their place now, and Graham was no longer the repentant husband of last night.
HE was in desperate need of his woman. He’d gone for her and had collected her back home. They were back in his territory now, and he was frantic to reconnect their bond, to repair the damage of yesterday’s disaster.
On the way to their rooms Graham stopped t
o direct the staff. In no uncertain terms were they to be disturbed unless he or the mistress rang for something. He ordered breakfast sent to their sitting room, and then dashed after her, up the stairs.
Imogene was in his chamber, standing there, waiting for him.
He locked the door.
She watched him approach, her eyes clear with understanding of what was about to happen. She knew what he wanted, and that was part of her magnificence. She knew him better than he knew himself sometimes.
He stopped before he reached her. He said, “I love you. You know that.”
“I know that you do.”
“I need to be with you now. To heal this…thing…that came between us.” He paused for a moment before saying, “Take off your clothes.” The words were spoken softly as a request, but his need behind his words was anything but soft.
Graham needed her. Badly. He needed to connect with her, get in as close as it was physically possible. Sex was his instrument for meeting the driving need to repair their bond. He needed to feel her soft, beautiful body underneath his hard, insistent one. He wanted to fill her up, possess her, and get inside her head and her body.
Imogene undressed as he watched. Removing her garments slowly, she deliberately looked at him the whole time, except when presenting her back so he could unlace her.
Graham took off his own clothes quickly, roughly, everything but his trousers, but he left them fastened. He was hard all over with muscles tense and straining, his cock twitching, his bollocks painfully tight. His need for Imogene was desperate.
She was soft, and lovely, and beautiful, standing before him with nothing but her chemise. Hesitantly he reached out to touch her.
“You tremble, Graham.”
“I have such need of you, Imogene, I am afraid of myself right now, afraid of handling you too roughly and hurting you.” Even to his own ears his voice sounded ragged and anxious.