Part 21 (2/2)
She plucked a vibrant orange hibiscus from its stem. ”I thought you'd react just as you did. I hoped you wouldn't, I but didn't expect miracles. I understand why, but I wish you could see the joy in this.”
Now his boot heels scuffed against the weathered marble. She stiffened, but he never touched her. Instead, he faced her, perching carefully on the edge of the railing. ”I never lied to you, Em. I told you we shouldn't have children. And you agreed.”
”And I didn't try to talk you out of it, nor did I manipulate you into this,” she shot back, folding her arms over her chest and glaring at him.
”I know. I'm not angry with you, but I'm furious with myself.”
”I know. And I wish you wouldn't be.” She pulled off one of the crepe-like petals and let it flutter to the ground. When she looked over at him, her heart gave a painful lurch as a sense of loss filled her. But that was silly. In order to feel loss, she had to have had him at some point. And despite all they shared, she wasn't at all sure she'd ever had even the smallest part of him.
”I don't know what you want me to say.” He reached up to rub the back of his neck. ”You know why I feel how I do.”
She shook her head. ”I do. And perhaps it's wrong of me, but I wish I could change it. I wish you could be happy about this.”
”I'm trying.” He sank onto the stone wall beside her. ”And I have to admit, I don't know what the right thing to say is.” He twisted and reached out a hand to brush a wayward tendril of hair from her face. ”The last thing I expected you to say was you were pregnant. It's ridiculous that I should be surprised. Even without my moment of weakness-for lack of a better word-I should have expected this. I'm still surprised.”
”You aren't the only one who was surprised, Julian.” she whispered. His fingers lingered over her cheek, and her heart picked up its pace as he leaned toward her.
He covered her lips with his in a gentle kiss. She sank into him, grasping his s.h.i.+rtfront with both hands as the last of her irritation drained away. His arm slid about her waist, pulling her closer, and that was it, she had no choice but slip her arms around him.
He broke the kiss to brush his lips along her cheek and then over her ear. Without thinking, she snuggled against him. Part of her expected him to pull away, but he didn't. Instead, he wrapped both arms about her. ”It scares me, Em.”
”I know.” She looked up. His eyes were closed, his mouth was tight, but when she squeezed, his expression softened.
He opened his eyes when she pulled away. ”I wish I could be like you, always looking for the silver lining.”
She took his hand and gently tugged. ”I wish you could, too, Julian. It would make things so much easier for me. This is just like that day at the wis.h.i.+ng well. I cannot entertain the notion that things won't work out the way I hope they will.” She tugged again and smiled when he fell into step behind her.
She waited for him to tense at the mention of what happened at the wis.h.i.+ng well, the way he did whenever she brought it up. But this time, he didn't, so she added, ”I meant it, Julian. I am looking so forward to this baby's proving you wrong. And he-or she-will do just that. And hopefully, I will be the one to bake the crow you will be eating when you come around.” She pulled on his hand. ”Come.”
He grinned, rubbing his thumb along the flat of her hand. ”Where are we going, Mrs. McCallister?”
”You'll see.” She tugged harder, directing him along the shadowy, cool hallway toward the stairs. Each time his thumb swept along her hand, it sent a rush of tingles up her arm to spread through her, and she loved the feeling, hoped it would never go away.
”Why, Mrs. McCallister” -Julian's voice held a playful note to it- ”are you going where I think you're going?”
She paused, her foot on the first step. ”I might be.”
”Is that so? But it's only morning.”
A sense of daring darted through her and without thinking, she squeezed his hand. ”I'd rather not be overheard by the servants, if you don't mind.”
She tried to inject a scolding tone into her voice, but one look at his wolfish grin, and she couldn't. Perhaps some of her optimism was rubbing off on him, because he didn't seem angry any longer. But that could also be because she was leading him in the direction of their bedchamber.
His right eyebrow rose to make his grin seem more wolfish. His fingers tightened about hers. ”If I'd known you'd become such a vixen, I'd have been a lot more agreeable to marriage.”
She halted on the landing between the first and second floors, her pleasant mood draining away. ”What was that?”
”Ah, that didn't quite come out the way I meant it.” Julian's cheeks flushed.
”I realize that the only reason you asked for my hand was because you wanted it to be your decision and not my father's. But you needn't be so crude about it.”
”What do you want me to say, Em? We both know why we're married. To avoid the scandal and gossips.”
She stared at him and slipped her hand from his. ”Nothing. I don't want you to say anything.” She moved back to lean against the wide banister. ”It's just that-” A feeling of crimson foolishness washed over her, and she clamped her lips together.
”It's just that what?”
”Nothing.” She shook her head. ”Nothing.”
”Em-”
She ducked as he reached for her and hurried the rest of the way up the stairs. ”Leave me be.”
At the top of the staircase, he grabbed her. ”Em, wait.”
”What?”
”It's just what?” He relinquished his hold on her to lean against the wall. ”I've never known you to not say what you think, so tell me what it is you're thinking.”
”It doesn't matter what I'm thinking.” A heavy exhaustion sank into her as she leaned against the wall beside him. Resting her head against the pale pink silk moire wallpaper, she looked over to find him doing the same, only looking at her. He looked as tired as she felt.
”Sure it matters.”
”Why? It never has before. I talk and talk, and no one seems to listen. They smile and nod and laugh about how outspoken I am. But I'd wager if you asked Drew or Garrett, or either of my parents, they wouldn't have any inkling as to what it was I said.”
He held her gaze for a long moment. ”I listen.”
She managed a smile. ”This isn't how I ever imagined all this happening,” she said, letting her weariness thread its way through her words. Why trouble to hide how tired she was? There was no point now. She was tired. ”I never thought my husband's arm would have to be twisted to make him ask for my hand.”
The wall creaked as he pushed away from it to stand before her. His eyes were more gray than blue and his jaw was tight as he said, ”Let's get one thing straight, Emma. No one twisted my arm. If I didn't want to do it, I wouldn't have, and I wouldn't be here right now.”
”You're here because of my father. Not because of me and certainly not because of this baby.”
She regretted her words even before darkness flashed through his eyes.
”You don't know me as well as you like to think you do,” he replied, his voice low and tight. ”Because I was going to ask for your hand. Your mother's catching us only made it go a little faster, and I'm not about to bemoan those fates. Not one d.a.m.n bit. I'm here, with you, because with you is the only place I've wanted to be since we sat on that d.a.m.n uncomfortable wis.h.i.+ng well!”
His words. .h.i.t her like a fist. ”It...it is?”
”Christ, yes!” He dragged a hand through his hair then let it slap against his thigh. ”Emma, it's always been you. Since you were twelve and too young and off-limits. And it has scared the h.e.l.l out of me ever since that day.”
He drew in a deep breath, and his shoulders sagged as he exhaled heavily. ”And you know why it scares me.”
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