Part 40 (2/2)
She laughed breathlessly and found her balance with the confidence of a natural horsewoman. ”Apparently I have no say in the matter.”
”None at all.” He ignored her startled eyes and turned to shake Sir John's hand again. ”Come by the house tomorrow, and we'll sort everything out.”
”I wish you good day, Sir Gideon, Lady Charis.” The man's eyes held a spark of amus.e.m.e.nt. Obviously, he hadn't forgotten what it was to be young and newly married.
Gideon shoved one booted foot in the stirrup and flung his other leg across the saddle. The high-strung horse danced under the double weight, but Gideon quickly brought him under control.
Charis sat across the front of the saddle, her back against Gideon's arm, her skirts cascading down Khan's side. He relished her sweet warmth. She wasn't wearing a hat, and strands of soft bronze hair tickled his chin.
Raising a hand to Akash, who watched them with a faint smile, Gideon urged Khan to a canter along the path to Penrhyn.
”That was high-handed,” Charis said in a neutral voice once they were away from the crowd. Gideon noted she made no great effort to wriggle away. No effort at all, really.
He laughed and tightened his hold on her. ”Black Jack lives in my veins, remember?”
He slowed Khan to a walk. The need to get back to the house and confirm she was his in the most basic way was a fever in his blood. But he wasn't a barbarian, much as he felt like one right now. They had to talk before he tumbled her into his bed.
She turned her face toward his. Her expression was unexpectedly grave. ”Does all this mean you no longer want to send me away?”
Uncomfortable heat crawled up the back of his neck. ”I never wanted to send you away.”
”Nevertheless that was-is-your plan.”
She wasn't letting him wriggle out of this. He knew he had to lay his heart before her like a tribute before a despotic queen. Good G.o.d, he owed it to her, after acting such a self-righteous clodpole.
”That's something we need to discuss.”
She arched her eyebrows. Suddenly the grande dame. ”Oh?”
”I think...I believe...I hope...”
He stopped. d.a.m.n, he made a hash of this. Drawing a deep breath, he strove to present his case with a modic.u.m of address. ”I seem to have overcome my...problem.” At least it was a complete sentence, even if he stumbled over the last word.
He'd never settled on how to describe the creeping horror that suffocated him when the ghosts of Rangapindhi howled. In his mind, he'd always called his affliction the demons, but that seemed too melodramatic a description in the clear light of day.
Charis's eyes were unwavering. ”I know.”
He made a frustrated sound deep in his throat. ”Curse you, you don't sound very pleased.”
”Of course I'm pleased.”
”Or surprised.” He spoke over the top of her declaration.
”You forget I saw you in the mine. I've never beheld a man more in control of himself or circ.u.mstances. Even bound as you were.” Her voice softened. ”What happened, Gideon?”
”It's hard to explain.” He paused, seeking the words. ”It goes back to learning to touch you. That changed the world for me.”
”And after all that, I nearly lost you when you handed yourself over to my stepbrothers.” He couldn't mistake the anger in her voice or the furious gold sparks in her eyes.
”I'd die to keep you safe.” He spoke from the depths of his heart. ”You know that.”
”Yet you say you're not a hero,” she said bitterly.
”I'm just a man, Charis. But protecting you is part of who I am. You can't ask me to change that. I couldn't, even if I wanted to.” His voice lowered to persuasion. ”Come, sweetheart, let's make peace.”
”I suppose I'll forgive you.” There was a misty light in her eyes as she surveyed him. ”Eventually.”
The time had come. His gut clenched with nerves as he realized his happiness depended on the next few minutes. She wouldn't call him a hero if she knew the sheer unadulterated terror that closed his throat. He meant to offer her everything he was and everything he had. If she refused him, she'd cast him into darkness again.
”Walk with me. It's not far to the house.” Over the next rise, they'd see the sea and Penrhyn. Home.
He drew Khan to a halt, slid to the ground, and lifted her down. His hands lingered at her slim waist, and again he fought the impulse to kiss her. They must settle everything first. Then, G.o.d help her, she'd spend the next week naked in his bed.
h.e.l.l, the next month.
They fell into step on the pale winter gra.s.s. The sun shone warm on his head, bright promise of a new spring.
For a few moments, they walked shoulder to shoulder, him leading a placid Khan. Gideon tugged off his gloves and grabbed her hand. He'd tried to resist touching her, but it was impossible. The memory of her, her voice, her face, her sweetness, were all that had sustained him through the long, dark night of captivity. He needed to have her near more than he needed air to breathe.
Her fingers twined around his bare scarred hand with a welcome that made his heart stumble to a lovesick halt. Despite his hunger for her, he found himself reluctant to shatter this sweet idyll. There had been so much strife and anguish between them, this serenity seemed a benediction.
Typically, Charis was the one to confront all that lay unspoken. ”Gideon, what happened at the mine?”
”I found myself again.” It was as close to the truth as he could manage. ”You changed me. The memory of you kept me from losing my mind. And as the night went on, I discovered the dark was just the dark and people just people. The wild fancies of my imagination...vanished.” He put a vague thought into words. It was as good an explanation as any for the glorious change that had overtaken him. ”A miracle.”
”No.” Her voice sounded husky as it always did when she succ.u.mbed to deep emotion. ”It's no miracle. Your own courage brought you clear of the storm. You faced your horrors when you surrendered yourself to my stepbrothers for my sake.”
Was she right? Would he ever know? It didn't matter why he'd changed. What mattered was he had changed. ”And being tied up in a mine gave me ample time for reflection.”
Charis released a spurt of unwilling laughter. ”You sound like you recommend a period of incarceration.”
He gave a dismissive huff. ”I wouldn't go that far.” He sobered. He floundered for an explanation that made sense. Difficult, when none of it made sense to him. ”I have to live with what happened in Rangapindhi. It wasn't my fault my colleagues died...”
”But your conscience lacerated you because you couldn't save them. It's that overdeveloped protective instinct again.”
”I despised myself for living when they died.”
The words hung stark in the air. Her hand tightened around his. The silent communication crushed the seeds of self-hatred still lurking in his heart. Her voice vibrated with sincerity. ”My love, if you hadn't lived, you couldn't have saved me. The workings of destiny are mysterious.”
Her words echoed the odd moment of perception last night where he'd struggled to view himself as an outsider would. When he'd felt the shades of Parsons and Gerard hover uncannily close in the thick darkness, so reminiscent of the pit where his friends had died.
He'd always imagined his colleagues must hate him from beyond the grave for living when they'd perished in pain and humiliation. But the spirits that kept him company through the long hours of blackness in the mine had been benign, not angry at all. Ever since Rangapindhi, he'd remembered them as gruesome specters. Last night they'd visited him as they'd been in life. Fine, brave men who had sacrificed everything for duty.
Only then, blessed by his dead colleagues at last, had Gideon taken the most terrifying step of all.
He'd contemplated establis.h.i.+ng a life at Penrhyn with Charis and, G.o.d willing, children. Trevithicks to fill the rambling old house with laughter and chaos and love. That hope had sustained him through the darkness and the violence and the incarceration. He wanted to build on the love that already grew between him and Charis and stoke it into a blazing, endless fire to light his days.
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