Part 19 (1/2)

”Good.”

Gideon turned to Charis and crooked his arm. Another action to convince their guests this was a normal wedding. Hesitantly, she rested her hand on his fine woolen sleeve. Beneath the expensive material, she felt his body's latent power. She fought the urge to curl her fingers into his coat. Goodness, she'd touched him more in the last ten minutes than she had since he'd been insensible with illness.

”Thank you for your a.s.sistance.” As Gideon addressed the clergyman, he sounded lordly and cool, not at all the man who shrank from the brush of her hand.

The vicar closed his prayer book. ”Will you and your bride join Mrs. Briggs and myself for a gla.s.s of madeira at the vicarage?”

Gideon's expression became more remote. ”I'm afraid that's impossible although your invitation is kind. Do we need to sign further doc.u.ments?”

The vicar shook his head, his face almost comical with disappointment. ”No. You're married right and tight.”

”Capital. We'll wish you good day, then.” The arm under Charis's hand was rock-hard with tension, but to any observer, Gideon appeared completely in control of himself and his surroundings. ”Remember, not a word.”

Tulliver and William approached them as the vicar left.

”G.o.d grant you every happiness, Lady Charis,” Tulliver said quietly.

”Aye, my lady,” William said behind her.

Such simple wishes. Such impossible wishes. Furiously, she blinked away tears. She couldn't cry now. She had to stay strong for what awaited.

”Thank you,” she said in a choked voice.

”Are you all right?” Gideon murmured, leaning toward her as they stood near the grate. It made her wince to hear him sounding like any new groom, mindful of his wife's comfort.

”Yes,” she said almost inaudibly, concealing her unhappiness by tilting her head, so her bonnet shaded her face.

But, of course, he must guess how she felt.

Her fingers clutched at his sleeve, then she realized what she did and s.n.a.t.c.hed her hand away. ”I'm sorry,” she gasped.

He loathed her touching him. That much she knew.

He caught her hand in a ruthless grip and dragged it back. ”We need to appear like any happy couple,” he growled under his breath, even though she felt him shaking with disgust.

”Then smile,” she hissed.

His lips curved upward, but no warmth entered his eyes. He looked drawn and distant as though his essential self hid away.

He turned to the men. ”It's time to head home. If there's sign of trouble in Penrhyn, send word under the names of John and Mary Holloway here at the Port Hotel. We'll make our own way back next month.”

Tulliver bent his head in acknowledgment. ”Aye, guvnor. And congratulations. You've snagged yourself a fine la.s.s there, make no mistake.”

For the first time, Gideon's smile looked natural. ”I have at that. She got much the worst of the bargain.”

His lies sliced at Charis. She bit back an acid retort.

Tulliver and William left Charis alone with Gideon. Suddenly, the luxurious parlor seemed cavernous, echoing. Across the floor, the door to the equally luxurious bedroom loomed like the gates of h.e.l.l. She felt ill at ease with him now as she never had before. Even after that desperate kiss at Penrhyn.

”I've arranged dinner.” Her husband leaned one arm on the mantelpiece. He'd wasted no time putting distance between them once their onlookers departed. His gloved hand fisted against the ledge, and he looked as if he braced for disaster.

”I'm not hungry,” she said tonelessly.

”Appearances...”

”Must be maintained. I know.”

Charis knew she behaved badly, but she couldn't help it. She was torn between desperate grat.i.tude and frustrated longing. And slas.h.i.+ng guilt because there should only be grat.i.tude.

Lines of tension framed his mouth, and his eyes glittered with stress. Again, she reminded herself he put himself through this suffering for her. Sick shame left a vile taste in her mouth.

If she had a shred of decency, she'd ask nothing further of him.

But she couldn't silence her wayward heart, which shrieked and clamored and demanded. She longed for him to love her more than she wanted to take her next breath. Nor could anything shake her bone-deep certainty that if he let himself love her, he'd find his own salvation.

Self-serving justification for her hunger? Or truth? She couldn't say. But he was worth more than this barren bargain they'd struck. She was worth more.

Night had fallen, and she moved around the room lighting candles. There was some relief in the workaday action. As light bloomed, she became conscious of Gideon's shallow breathing.

”Are you ill?” she asked with deliberate calm, carefully lighting each branch of the candelabra on the sideboard.

”No,” he said hoa.r.s.ely. His face was paper white. He looked like a man approaching the limits of endurance.

She knew what set that haunted look in his eyes. The prospect of bedding her. She tensed her throat against the agony of that awareness.

Compa.s.sion as much as conscience provoked her to speak. ”Gideon, we don't have to do this. The vicar said we're married right and tight. You've already gone to extraordinary lengths to keep me safe.” She extended one hand in a wordless plea for him to lay aside his burdens. If only for one night. ”I can never find words to express my thanks. Nothing could repay what your champions.h.i.+p of me has cost you. You needn't make further sacrifices.”

He sucked in a deep breath, then, to her complete shock, he laughed. His dark eyes glinted with self-derisive humor as he straightened away from the hearth.

”Good G.o.d, anyone who knew me in my salad days would roll around the floor laughing himself sick to hear you. You'd think I was some s.h.i.+vering virgin.” A cynical expression crossed his face, and he suddenly looked eons older than his twenty-five years. ”I have done this before, you know.”

Yes, with his skilled and spectacular Indian bibis. The statement didn't ease her uncertainty. It just made her jealous and insecure. ”I'm well aware of that,” she said starkly.

How she wished she had an ounce of those women's sensual skills. She'd captivate her husband with such pleasure, he couldn't help falling in love.

His face filled with sorrow. ”I'll try my best not to hurt you.”

”I know.” She'd trust him with her life. She already had. Just as she'd trusted him with her heart. Even if he didn't want it.

”With a first time, there can be pain.”

The subject made him uncomfortable. Or perhaps he was merely uncomfortable talking about this with his troublesome bride. His exotic Indian lovers, she was sure, hadn't made him feel awkward.

Stop it, Charis.

”I know what takes place.” Heat flooded her face. She wasn't easy with this conversation either. She raised her chin, although the hand holding the taper trembled. ”I grew up in the country, and my mother told me what to expect.”

He raised his eyebrows, and his lips curved in another ironic smile. ”Quite the expert then.”

She shook her head as nerves set her belly to cramping. ”I never kissed anyone until...until yesterday.”