Adam's Promise (21 page)

I
t was the fullest, roundest, brightest moon Adam could recall seeing in a dog's age. Hands clasped behind his back, he stood on the ridge, overlooking the marsh where moonbeams gleamed on the glossy dales below and stars glimmered brilliantly in the night sky overhead. There was a chill in the air—a sign of late summer—yet not a hint of wind off the bay. He closed his eyes and breathed in the fresh scents of chamomile and spruce, and thought of Madeline.

What was it that made him think he could fall in love with women he knew nothing about? Was he somehow daft in the head? At the very least, he was a severely poor judge of character. All his life he had thought he'd loved Diana, only to discover she was not at all the woman he remembered. Why hadn't he seen her true nature all those years ago? Had he been that blinded by her beauty? He supposed he had.

Jane had seemed like a rational woman when he'd met her, and he'd not had any serious doubts about marrying her when it became a necessity. Perhaps again, he had blinded himself to her deeper person,
for what could he do but close his eyes and hold his breath and leap, hoping that it would all turn out right.

It hadn't. She'd been a difficult woman to live with, but he had survived.

Now Madeline.
What had happened there? Everything had been fine, things were progressing as they should. They were becoming friends and he'd fallen in love with her gradually and sensibly, he'd thought. The friction only began after he had confessed his feelings to her. She had retreated from him, like a spooked rabbit in the forest.

Now he was wondering what John Metcalf had said to her. Surely he had proposed.

Adam truly had no idea what Madeline was going to do.

He really did not know her.

He watched the moon shadows drift eerily over the land as a few lone clouds passed across the dark sky. It was too late to be out here in the dark, analyzing his mistakes. He buried his hands in his pockets and headed back to the house.

An owl hooted somewhere nearby. He stopped at the end of the tree-lined driveway to look up at the tall pines and spot the owl, but heard the sound of his front door open and close.

His attention darted to the house and then to Madeline on the stoop, wearing only her white nightdress and a shawl, holding flickering candles over her head.

Was she looking for him? he wondered, feeling startled and shaken by her unexpected appearance. He'd thought everyone was asleep.

Observing a slight change in his body—a tightness,
a squeezing apprehension—he approached and climbed the steps. “Is something wrong?”

“Yes. I mean, no, nothing's wrong. I…I want to speak with you.”

Her hair was down. How curly it was. He hadn't known it would be so full around her face, so soft looking. God, she was lovely in the candlelight, so natural and unaffected. He could feel the overwhelming shock of her beauty in his bones.

He forced himself to look down, to try and block his body's response, but found himself staring at her stockinged feet, her toes peeking out from under the hem of her nightdress. With an irritating surge of arousal, he pulled his gaze back up to her face. “Let's go inside, then.”

Not knowing what to expect—perhaps she wanted to announce her engagement to John Metcalf—he held the door open for her. He would not be surprised if she wanted to marry the man. Nothing would surprise him now.

She led the way into his study rather than the parlor, then she boldly closed the door behind them.

Adam stood motionless in the center of the room, trying to subdue the dread that was spreading through him like a climbing vine. Following closely behind that dread was an unhealthy dose of dangerously frustrated lust.

For heaven's sake! He should not be in this room alone with her with the door closed, facing the prospect of losing her to another man, while the entire household slept upstairs. It was too much to ask of himself. He did not think he could resist the hunger
to devour her and demand that she finally open herself to him, give herself to him, body and soul. She was meant for him, and no other!

Madeline walked to the desk and lit a few more candles from the flame of the one she held. The room brightened.

“First,” she said, “I'm going to tell you what I had intended to do tonight. What I
tried
to do.”

Adam strode to the window, working hard to speak with aplomb. “I'm listening.”

Her voice was shaky, as if she were holding too much air in her lungs and could not let it out. “Tonight when I asked you and Lord Blackthorne to excuse Diana and I, I was acting on an impulse that came over me very suddenly. I wanted…or rather I
needed
to talk to Diana about everything that had happened.”

He held up a hand. “Wait, you didn't want to talk to her about John Metcalf?”

Madeline shook her head. “No, this has nothing to do with John.”

He contemplated that for a moment. “He didn't propose?”

“Yes, he did,” she said uncertainly, “but I turned him down. Did you think…?”

“It doesn't matter what I thought.” He swallowed uncomfortably. His legs seemed to be made of butter. “I thought nothing.”

Madeline wandered to the bookcase and ran a finger over the spines. He wished she would just spit it out, for his patience was all gone.

She faced him. “I tried to tell her what she had
forgotten the day of the flood—that you had broken off your engagement.”

Had he heard her correctly? Adam stepped away from the dark window. “You tried. You did not succeed?”

“I did, eventually. You may relax now, Adam. Diana will not be holding you to your proposal. She plans to leave tomorrow.”

The muscles in his back and shoulders relaxed in one great sweep of comprehension. The secrets were out.

“How? What did you say? Was she shocked? Angry?”

Madeline tilted her head, as if she were considering how to describe it. “Neither shocked nor angry. When I tried to tell her, she informed me that she already knew. She said she remembered everything the day after the accident but kept it to herself, because she…she didn't want me to have you.”

Adam fought to check his anger. “She knew, and she didn't want you to have me? What I really want to say to you now is that I told you so, but I will not because I know how ridiculously loyal you are to her, and that nothing I say will make you choose happiness for yourself over hers.”

Madeline walked to him. She took his hands in hers, pressed them to her soft cheek.

Caught off guard and instantly flustered, he looked into her eyes for the first time, searching them. What was this?

“Please, let me finish,” she said. “I must say everything I came to say before I lose my mettle.
When you convinced me the other day to talk to Diana, I did, but I failed. At least I thought I did. She turned me away and made me more certain than ever that I was doing the right thing to keep my heart closed off to the world. But Adam, somehow I managed to open her heart with all the things I said, and afterward, she began to regret what had become of our relationship. You were right. I did need to open my heart, and I want to open it now. Again. To you. Diana is leaving, and I want to stay.”

She kissed his hands and pressed them to her cheek again, and he tried to focus on what she was telling him rather than the feel of her moist, hot lips on his skin and the fires kindling in his veins.

Yet, even through it all, he still had questions. “You said she is leaving tomorrow. Why so quickly?”

“Diana is going to leave with Lord Blackthorne. She is going to marry him.”

The fires within began to cool slightly. “She is leaving to marry Lord Blackthorne? When did this transpire?”

“Over the past few days, and I suppose it began when they met on the ship.”

He shook his head. “This seems all too familiar.”

He pulled his hands from hers and crossed to the other side of the room where the candlelight did not reach. He stood in the darkness, his pulse pounding in his ears. “She handed me over to you, did she? On a silver platter with her happy blessing?”

Madeline's voice was quiet. “Yes, but—”

“But what? How can I be sure that if Diana had
not met Lord Blackthorne, you would not be packing your bags right now to return with her to Yorkshire? I do not wish to be your second choice, Madeline.”

She took a step toward him. “How can you speak of second choices, when I was not even as good as that when I came here? For weeks I had to live with the heartbreak of discovering that you did not want me, when I wanted you more than anything. I was rejected in the worst way, and now you fault me for being afraid! You broke my heart, Adam. Everyone in my life had broken my heart, and if you could only know how much courage I had to scrape together to come here and talk to you tonight.”

“But you have stumbled backward into the necessity of acting upon your feelings. How can I be sure you even know what you want?”

“Stumbled backward?” She crossed to him and dropped to her knees again, wrapping her arms around him and resting her cheek on his hip. Adam sucked in a breath. She was squeezing him so tightly he doubted he could pry her off if he tried. Then he heard her sob and the sound of it brought his own heart into his throat.

“I am not stumbling backward now. I will
not
let go of you! Not until you believe that I love you, and that I would have thrown Diana out of here myself if she had tried to keep me from you one more day.”

He stood in shocked silence, his hands floating in the air over her head.

“I am on my knees, Adam, weeping for you. I don't know how else to show you that I do have a heart. You were right about me from the beginning.
You knew
everything.
You saw inside to the real me, where no one had ever bothered to look before. I don't care what brought us to this moment—all the mix-ups and the backward stumbling and tripping and falling. All I care about is you, and what I know is true. My heart—my frightened, reluctant heart—beats only for you.”

She gazed up at him, her cheeks stained with tears, her eyes repeating everything she had just said to him. They were pleading with him.

God! She was right! Nothing mattered but this moment of pure openness! Madeline, his beautiful, timid Madeline, was wearing her heart on her sleeve. How could he even think of turning her away?

With aching, jubilant surrender, he dropped to his knees before her and took her delicate face in his big hands, tilted it up toward his. The room was dim, but he could still see the faint luster of her eyes, smell the sweetness of her breath, feel the silky texture of her skin. He needed her, dear God, he needed her. And he would show her just how much.

Gently, cautiously, he lowered his mouth to hers.

She rose to meet his kiss, wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him fast against her soft, heaving breasts. She parted her lips for him, and he plunged eagerly into the warmth she offered. He kissed her deeply and passionately, stopping only to say, “I'm so sorry, Madeline.”

She laughed out loud—a happy, joyful release. “
You
are sorry? For what? You have done nothing but force me out of myself. You've made me feel beautiful.”

He pulled her into him and kissed her again, this time with an abandon that almost knocked him off his knees. For too long he had shouldered what was forbidden, and now it burned in him like red-hot flames licking over his flesh.

A brief second of panic ensued, when he wasn't sure he could restrain his desire for her and keep from taking her here on the cold, hard floor, but it passed when she gazed lovingly into his eyes and touched his face. He knew he could do anything for her. He had waited this long. He could wait a little longer…..

“Marry me, Madeline.”

She smiled. “Oh Adam, I have dreamed of this moment all my life. That day when I stepped off the boat and you did not want me, I thought I was doomed to live without you forever. And when you still wanted Diana…”

He touched a finger to her lips. “Forget about dreams, Madeline. No more of that. We are real, you and I. No more idealizing. Love me for the man that I am, as I love you for the woman you are. You, my darling, are the one I want to spend the rest of my life with.”

“Oh, Adam.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply. “I've waited so long for this. Please don't send me back to my room to sleep alone tonight. Take me to your bed.”

He gazed into her sweet, dark eyes. “You ask the impossible if you expect me to sleep next to you and not love you as I intend to when I am your husband.”

“I would not ask that of you. I want you, Adam. Tonight. If all had been right with the world, you
would have been my husband ages ago. Let us make up for lost time.”

It took no more to convince him. Rising to his feet, he gathered her into his arms and carried her up the stairs as quietly as possible. By the time he reached his bed and laid her down upon the soft covers, his entire being was pulsing with need.

He stood over her, loosening his neckcloth. The moonlight shone in the window, illuminating Madeline's white nightdress. She looked like a goddess, lying back upon the pillows, waiting for him. Her beauty was breathtaking, her innocence intoxicating. He had not known he could ever love a woman as fiercely as he loved the one before him.

Adam pulled off his shirt and came down gently upon her. His lips found hers in the darkness and he reveled in their delicious flavor. She wrapped her long legs around his hips and he held her tightly in his arms, pressing his body against hers. He wanted all of her. He had waited so long.

He kissed the smooth, warm skin at her neck and unbuttoned her gown, then let his lips trace a path down to her luscious breasts. Gently his hands slid from her hips down to her legs, sliding the gown up and up until he found the warm center of her womanhood where she was delightfully damp with desire.