Fates for Apate (12 page)

* * *

Casimir had never felt his cock so well-loved by a woman's mouth. Perhaps she hadn't been a virgin coming into their marriage, but that wasn't all bad. He couldn't decide if he wanted to submit to her ministrations until his completion, which honestly seemed like it could be any moment now, or turn her over and fuck her fast and hard the way his cock wanted him to. Then he saw her hips grind against the blankets as though she were having the same thoughts and his decision was made. She squeaked in surprise when he rolled her onto her back but she was hot and wet for him, and wrapped those long legs around his waist to take him in deeper. He lost himself in the nearly brutal need to take her. It had never been like this with any other woman. She drove him mad with desire, with a need to claim her in the most primal of ways. He felt her inner muscles clench around him and heard that keening pant that signaled her climax. Thank God she enjoyed it hot and fast like this because there were times when he wasn't capable of anything else with her. Within moments he spilled his seed, holding onto her as though she were his life raft in an open sea.

* * *

George could see the cliffs of Dover. England. Home. Within an hour they would be docking and finding a fast carriage to London. If they traveled overnight she would make it just in time for Sabre's wedding. She was more excited about coming home than she had expected. She knew this because for the last hour she had been telling Casimir everything she could think of to share about England. Now she was pointing at the cliffs and talking about the history of the area. He had the good grace to look intently interested in everything she was saying. If she hadn't loved him before today, then today she would have fallen for him. This morning he made love to her like a man consumed with desire, and now listened to her prattling as if she were the most interesting person he'd ever known. If she loved him any more, that love would become a physical, tangible thing. She wanted to jealously hide him away where no one else would ever interfere. She wanted to parade him around and indulge in the envy she would see on other's faces. Perhaps not just love then, but obsession and possession as well. She didn't care. She was giddy with emotion. Coming home. Having Casimir. It was all one huge maelstrom of joy in her heart.

"I've prattled enough. Tell me something about you."

"What do you want to know?"

"Everything."

He smiled. "That could take awhile. Mayhaps you could narrow it down for me?"

"Hmm. Have you ever been in love before?" It felt like a dangerous question, one that could hurt her heart, but she wanted to know the answer.

"Before you? No. Although I was engaged once before." His eyes turned dark and perhaps a bit melancholy with memory. "It put me off long engagements. I'm glad we didn't have one."

"So somewhere there is a woman who pines for you that I need to be on the lookout for?"

"Pine for me? No, I'm quite sure she doesn't."

"It sounds like it ended badly."

"That would be putting it mildly. But she taught me a lot about trust."

"Such as?"

"Don't."

"Don't?"

"Don't trust anyone. Ever."

The look in his eyes made a cold chill go through George's heart. Casimir had always been charming, entertaining, warm. Seeing him like this was like suddenly realizing the room was full of flowers because it was a funeral. She didn't know quite what to say, but the joy that had been overflowing her heart dried up and scattered to the wind. They spent the final hour to Dover in silence.

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There had been an uncomfortable silence since he had mentioned his engagement. They had spoken about the logistics of getting to London, but otherwise nothing. There was much more to the story that he didn't want to go into right now, but it would certainly help if he mended this bridge with Gina before it became impassable. He loved his wife, he really did. But it was true that he wasn't one to trust easily. He just hadn't meant to point that out so badly and bluntly.

They were sitting on the carriage seat without touching, something that was rare for them now. He tapped his boots against hers. "Are you going to spend the rest of the day moping?"

The look she turned on him was part affront and part disbelief.

He gave an overly dramatic sigh. "It's just I mention a former fiancée and now you’re like a monk with a vow of silence."

"It wasn't..." She looked at him as though trying to ascertain if he was being serious. "It wasn't the fiancée."

Now he gave her an overdone frown. "It is an English tradition to observe silence as one approaches the cliffs of Dover?"

"Casimir, what are you doing?"

He set his forehead to hers and closed his eyes. "Apologizing. You didn't know what you were asking and I didn't know that I was still that bitter. I'm sorry."

She pulled back to look at him. "I'm sorry, too. You didn't deserve whatever it is that she did to you."

He smiled. "It's good to have a wife. She believes in you no matter what."

She gave a small smile, but still searched his eyes as though there was something she was expecting to find.

* * *

If George were completely honest with herself, she wasn't just bothered by Casimir's outburst about trust, she was frightened. She had been concerned that he could be manipulating her, leading her on, but she hadn't really considered it a strong possibility. Then she had seen the darkness that had been lurking beneath the surface, and now she wasn't so sure. What had she done bringing him back to England? What did he really want? What was he capable of? He had gone back to being even-tempered and charming, but now she was intensely curious about what he was truly like. Yet also concerned. For once in her life she almost wanted to live in a pleasant fantasy rather than know the truth of a thing. That wasn't like her at all. She had always been driven by uncovering the truth. It underlay everything that led her to the career she had chosen. But just now, as she looked down at their joined hands on the carriage seat, she wasn't sure she wanted the truth at all.

* * *

Casimir stared out the window to the dark night, holding Gina against his shoulder while she slept. It was possible his actions had been too rash, too impulsive. He'd chosen an English bride and married her in a Protestant ceremony. He was traveling to London with no plan beyond protecting her. Where would they live? What would the reaction be from her family? What exactly was it that she did for the British Empire? It was clear she had been on some sort of assignment in Vienna, but doing what? His rational mind told him that he was a fool. But with her resting so trustingly against him, her breath a soft brush against his neck, it was impossible to convince himself that what he was doing was wrong. Something about her drew him, gave him hope for a new future he had never considered before. It was possible that meant he was an even bigger fool. Everything in his life had instructed him not to trust, not to hope. Now Gina had come along, looking like the worst lesson of that, yet he couldn't help himself from loving her.

As he wasn't sure what the morrow would bring, he settled in to get some sleep.

* * *

George awoke as the carriage once more came to a stop. They had changed horses twice during the night. The expense for traveling so rapidly to Sabre's wedding was staggering, but it would be worth it. She couldn't believe that both she and Sabre had missed Jack's wedding. Jack, the peacemaker and supportive one of the three of them hadn't had either of her best friends to support her when she needed it most. George always teased Jack for being serious and, honestly, for being so loving. Emotion had always been something of an anathema to George. She far preferred interacting with Sabre, whose emotional gamut essential went from curious to irritated, and spent the most time in a fairly neutral state. Jack was always... solicitous. Jack noticed when George was out of sorts. Not that Sabre didn't notice, Sabre noticed everything. But Sabre didn't, well, she didn't
care
. That sounded harsh, but was essentially true. Or if she cared, she was perfectly happy to let others sort out things for themselves. Jack always wanted to
help
. George liked to keep things to herself.  

Casimir stirred next to her.

"Have we arrived?" he asked sleepily.

"I'm not sure." She peeked out the window to see that a dim pre-dawn gray lit the sky. They were in a stable yard and she could hear the driver working with the horses. "Just at the outskirts of London, I think."

Casimir looped his arm around her waist and pulled her back against him. "So it won't be much longer."

"Most likely not." George paused, enjoying the feeling of his chest against her back, his hand drifting over her rib cage. "If you don't mind, I'd like to wait until after Sabre's wedding to tell everyone that we're married."

She felt him stiffen a bit behind her, but his words were calm and friendly enough. "If you like."

"I just don't think Sabre will understand if I upstage her by arriving unexpectedly and announcing I'm married."

Casimir chuckled. "She's marrying a duke. How exactly do you think anything you can do would upstage her?"

She affected a flippant tone. "I realize you're marrying a duke and all, but now I'm an international spy and have married a devastatingly handsome foreigner. Sorry you couldn't attend
our
wedding but at the time we were
running for our lives
."

"Well, yes, perhaps if you put it that way it could create some drama."

"May I say, I haven't seen you sending announcements of our wedding back to
your
home, so I supposed I shouldn't feel too guilty about not sharing the news immediately."

"As you said, we have been running for our lives."

She was silent a moment, caressing her hand over his. "This was all rather poorly done of us, wasn't it? Marrying suddenly and, well, covertly."

He turned her in the seat. With the slowly brightening dawn she could just make out his face. "Do you regret it?" he asked.

"Do you?"

"Do I regret that we didn't have an enormous wedding with all of our friends and families? Somewhat. Do I regret marrying you, being with you now? No."

George smiled but she couldn't help wondering if she had done the right thing in marrying him. If he was being honest about his desire to be with her or if she was a convenient path to something else. The fear of it was starting to claw at her, starting to drive her mad with doubts.

"Do you know, before Sabre's wedding I should deliver this letter you gave me."

"You have time?"

"I will if you take the carriage and wait for me at the church. The church is actually outside the city, you see. And I can take a smaller conveyance into town, deliver this letter so that we have it off our hands, and meet up with my friends for the wedding."

"And I meet you at the church..."

"With the carriage. That has all my things. Stop looking so dubious."

"I came to protect you, not your luggage."

"I'll be fine. We've not seen one sign of trouble."

"We could send the driver with the luggage-"

She laid her finger on his lips. "I can't take you where I'm going, so don't ask."

"And you're sure you'll be fine?"

"Yes, I'll be fine. Somewhere around here there is undoubtedly a curricle with an ambitious driver to be hired."

"Why don't I get out to stretch my legs while you find that curricle?"

"You're going to be one of
those
husbands, aren't you?"

"What kind is that?"

"Intrusive."

His eyebrows flew up. "You call that intrusive?"

"Meddlesome."

"Now I think you're just taunting me."

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George alit from the carriage, Casimir behind her. They spoke with their driver about their plans and confirmed it would be another few minutes before the horses were changed. The morning was cool and damp and the ground muddy. George heard her boots squelching in the muck as they made their way among the crowd of carriages in the yard. It was still early and few people were about. 

The early morning quiet and muddy yard turned out to be a saving grace as she heard two sets of footsteps rush them, one from the side and one from behind. She heard Casimir turn behind her, so addressed her attention to the figure coming out from between the carriages to her left. The man rushed her with his arms up, seeming focused on capturing her. She drew two knives and ducked to deliver upper cuts to her assailant. Casimir used the reflexes she'd suspected he had to sweep his attacker and send the man crashing into the side of a carriage. 

She heard a small popping noise and felt a pinch in her side, but wasn't concerned as she followed through on her attack to slice through her enemy's coat and possibly into his skin. She heard a crunching noise that she hoped was Casimir dealing further damage to his opponent while she let her own attacker's momentum carry him past her and followed up with a jab to his side, her blade sliding in a little better than an inch before he was out of arm's reach. The man turned, staggering against another of the carriages, his hand held to his bleeding ribs. He cursed her in German.

Casimir grabbed the lantern post of the carriage and swung up, his knee catching George's opponent in the face, rattling the man's head hard against the wood. The man went down in a boneless heap. Casimir's original opponent was running off as quickly as his boots could carry him in the slippery mud.

"Are you all right?" Casimir had grabbed her shoulders and turned her towards him. He was looking her over. "I heard his flintlock go off, did it hit you?"