Mary Blayney (51 page)

38

O
LIVIA WALKED
down to the gatehouse as sedately as she could. It was twilight now and there were few people about, but privacy was a hard-won privilege here.

Her knock was light but not tentative, and when no one answered she tried again. Michael finally opened the door, saw who it was and turned around. He did not invite her in, but he did not close the door in her face, either.

“Say what you have to say and leave.”

He sounded more tired than angry and his voice lacked the edge that Lyn used so well. Olivia pretended that was because he cared and did not want to hurt her feelings.

There was a bowl of water and a cloth on the table. She followed him into the room and took his arm to push him into the seat. When she made to dip the cloth in water he pulled it from her hand and nodded his head toward the opposite chair.

It hurt a little to have him reject her tender care, but she was not going to be distracted from what she had to say. She sat across from him and folded her hands in her lap.

“I know you think that I suffered some terrible trauma at the hands of my kidnappers and are afraid that if you make love to me I will be damaged forever.”

He rolled his eyes as though they’d had this discussion a hundred times before. “There is some truth to that, my lady, though the way you phrase it is more theatrical than necessary.”

“All right. Let me put it this way. You do not think I am being sensible.”

“Much better.”

“Here is the truth.” She raised her folded hands to the table and leaned over them. “I had quite a bit of time to think about it this afternoon while I was in your bed waiting for you to come to me.”

He raised the cloth to the cut on his cheek and winced. She tried not to feel any sympathy for him.

“Michael, making love with you and what I was afraid those men would do to me is like the difference between feeding someone and poisoning them. The act is the same but that is all they have in common.”

He put the cloth down and raised a bandaged hand to cover his damaged cheek. But he was listening.

“Besides, they did not rape me and I escaped. I saved myself.”

He shook his head, and even without words she could see he was not convinced. It was infuriating.

“Why will no one believe I can take care of myself, even in the face of that? There was no brother to rescue me. I did it. I have done it all my life. Do you think it is easy having four older brothers? Do you think it was easy to have a Season in London when I am so easily mistaken for a milkmaid? Do you think it is easy for the daughter of a duke to make a place for herself in the kitchen? Do you think it is easy to love someone when even he thinks I am too damaged to know what I want?”

“I do not think you are damaged.”

She raised her hand to stop his protest and kept on talking. “Michael, there is only one way that you are like those men who abducted me. You are a man.”

“I do not want your love. I want that understood.” He rose from the table with such force that it shifted. “Besides, love is not what you are feeling. It’s gratitude.”

“I know the difference.” Before she could say more he continued.

“For me, saving your life was the first move toward balancing the wrongs I have committed. There are so many I could live to be a hundred, doing nothing but good works, and still not be finished.”

She stood. “Are you trying to make me think badly of you? That is not possible.”

He rose from the chair, came close. Taking her by her shoulders he looked into her eyes. She was sure they were tear-swollen and ugly. That did not matter as long as he saw beyond that to the absolute conviction in her heart.

“If I wanted you to think badly of me I would tell you about the time I held a knife at a child’s throat so that his mother would tell me what I needed to know.”

She did not want to hear this. Her imagination was good enough. She tried to cover her ears with her hands but he would not let go of her shoulders.

“I tell the truth now, to displace the lie I lived for five years. I killed men so that I would not be betrayed, I slept with women so I could find out what they knew and use it against the ones they loved.”

It frightened her. He frightened her. It was not a past she could even imagine. That man was not the man she knew now. “Are you sorry for those lies and deceits?”

“Sorry? No, I am not sorry.” He let go of her and laughed as though it was the most foolish question he had ever heard. “I wanted Napoleon defeated. I wanted to avenge the lives of the men who died in service to God and king. My skills were to lie and deceive and I used them to the best of my God-given ability.”

He took the bottle of brandy off the table and gave it to her with his injured hand.

“You have lived a sheltered life, Olivia. Not all problems can be solved with chicken soup, no matter how perfect the recipe.”

“Stop being patronizing.” Olivia hoped he heard the anger in her voice. She hated losing her temper and was perilously close.

“If you want to show your gratitude, your love”—he spoke the word as if it was a complete misnomer—“open this for me and leave.”

“Of course, I’ll open it.” If he thought he was going to find the answers in a bottle of brandy he was as wrong as it was possible to be.

She took the bottle and with careful aim threw it at the wall next to the door. It missed the wall but shattered against the door, and the always appealing smell of brandy filled the air.

He raised his bandaged hand to his head and swore very quietly.

“That is quite enough, Michael Garrett. Now you will listen to me.”

She pushed him back with an index finger against his chest. He let himself be so handled until they were standing in the middle of the room.

“Brandy is never, ever a solution. I know this from my own experience. My governess abused brandy. I called her Tildy. Her name was Matilda Elderton and she is Annie’s mother. I’ve spoken of her before, do you recall?”

He nodded.

“From my youngest years she would give me a bit when she wanted me to sleep or when I had a loose tooth. When I was twelve she gave me a tablespoon every evening before dinner so that I would not be so nervous joining the adults at table.”

Olivia looked away from him so he would not see her tears at the memory of Tildy’s hugs and encouragement, of her reminders of appropriate dinner table conversation, of her insistence that her “little lady” was going to grow up to be a beautiful woman.

“That brandy before dinner was how my parents found out. They smelled it on my breath and confronted her one night when she was too intoxicated to deny it.”

“This is very touching, my lady—” he began.

“Close your mouth and listen. If you are going to dismiss me from your life, you are going to hear what I have to say first. Sit down.”

She poked him with her finger one more time and he sat on the chair right behind him. With him seated, they were almost eye-to-eye.

“Of course she was dismissed. They gave her some money and sent her away within the week. Annie stayed with us.

“When I grew older Jess told me that Tildy had begged my parents to keep Annie, to prepare her for domestic service. They did. Annie and I were both lost for so long and then they sent her to boarding school.”

She closed her eyes, remembering that last night when the two of them had planned how they would run away and start a cooking school.

“The new governess was much more interested in finding a husband than teaching me. She would tell me not to go to the kitchen but never actually check to see where I was. By the time my parents understood that I was spending all of my time with Cook, I made it clear I would run away if they made me stop my work there.”

He had closed his eyes and she nudged him. “Do not fall asleep on me.” When he opened his eyes, she stepped between his legs, took his face in her hands and pressed her lips to his. He did not respond and she dropped her hands, not at all dismayed. “I am coming to the important part.

“Michael.” She used his given name and filled the word with all she felt for him. “I learned so many things from Tildy, but she taught me the most important thing without ever saying a word.”

Today his eyes were that golden brown that reminded her of brandy. He probably thought they were expressionless, but she knew better.

“Michael.” She said it again just for the pleasure of it. “Even the greatest wrong can be outweighed by a generous heart. I learned from her example that love is the greatest gift you can give and receive. I loved Tildy so much and I know she loved me. I pray for her and miss her to this day. I hope she is safe.”

She kissed him again, very gently. This time his eyes closed, ever so briefly.

“Tildy shaped my life for this moment, for you. So I would know that no matter what you think you deserve, how bad your life has been, you are entitled to as much happiness as you can find. Love is what will give you the chance to right all the wrongs.”

He shook his head and she ignored him.

“And, you lucky, lucky, man, I am here to show you where to find it.”

She sat on his lap and this time she kissed him with carnal abandon; at least, she hoped that’s what it was. And he responded. Oh the feel of his mouth, his tongue, delighted her. It was not the smell of brandy all around them that made her giddy and eager. It was his hands on her back, pulling her closer.

He kissed her neck below her ear and whispered. “I do not know if you are reward or punishment.”

“Both.” She pressed a kiss to the corner of his lip and could taste the sweet and salt there. “And I do love you, besides being ever so grateful it was you who saved my life.”

H
E WAS TRAPPED.
God bless her and her faith in him. That was all they said with words for a long time. He carried her up the angled stairs, pulled off most of the bandage covering his hand and helped her undress.

She returned the favor, taking at least as long as he had without the excuse of sore hands. Still in her shift she had to kiss each part of his body that she uncovered until he turned to her, naked, and showed her where a kiss meant the most. Her lips were soft and warm.

He helped her out of her shift, lifting it over her head, and kissed her forehead, her nose, her mouth, the space between her breasts. She pressed her legs together so he stopped at her stomach, tickling her belly button and finding, he could swear, that it tasted of cinnamon.

He wanted to admire the body he had so carefully ignored the last time he held her naked, but first he looked into those eyes. He saw anticipation mixed with excitement, as though she was waiting for the greatest treat in the world.

“Tell me if you change your mind.”

“T
ELL ME IF YOU CHANGE YOURS,”
she said as she pressed herself against his arousal. The sensation was overwhelming. Olivia could not stand the feel of it until she let herself abandon control. Surprise changed to a gasp of delight. It was as if a fuse had been set; pleasure arrowed through her, exploding from her core, radiating through her entire body. It must be the way fireworks felt. She shuddered with release and melted into his arms with her eyes closed.

“That is how lovemaking is supposed to end,” he said, kissing her eyelids.

It was a moment before she could open her eyes and think clearly enough to see concern mixed with the satisfaction in his.

“I think I have been waiting much too long for that, Michael. Is it your turn now?”

“Oh yes.” He kissed her lightly. “How much do you know about sex?”

“The basics.” She was feeling restless again. “But I want to learn all the details.”

Michael began by kissing every inch of her. She threw out her arms, wanting him to make every inch of her his. She laughed, shivered, gasped and moved so that he knew what she wanted without words.

He pushed into her slowly, as if he was afraid he would hurt her. Not possible. As soon as he began, something primal took over and she wanted him with her, inside her, a part of her. She wondered how she ever thought life in the kitchen would be enough. She wanted this even more, every day, twice a day, for the rest of her life.

When he began to move inside her, the last thing she thought was “Oh!” as another explosion of delight rocked through her. This time he was with her, his body moving urgently, then tensing above her. He made a final thrust and she could feel his seed fill her. Creating as well as fulfilling. Giving. Taking. Sharing.

They fell asleep next to each other, his breath deep and heavy. Olivia watched him as his face grew soft and peaceful and she smiled to herself. She put her head on his chest and drifted off herself, listening to his heartbeat, deciding it would always be her favorite lullaby.

H
E SAW HER TO THE CASTLE,
in a pouring rain, and into it since he was the interim night porter. She waved good-bye to him and literally danced through the grand hall, leaving small wet footprints that dried almost instantly. She stopped every two or three steps up the grand stairway to turn in a great swirl and blow him kisses.