Hint of Desire (22 page)

The fires
had died within him, leaving his heart racing, his body still rigid, at her side.

A cruel sneer of
self-loathing curved his lips. His body felt damp and sticky, and was rapidly cooling. Lily lay silent at his side. After that tiny gasp of pain, she had not stirred. Arthur reached out and drew the blanket over her. She started at his touch and turned towards him with huge, darkened eyes glowing in the candlelight, glancing timidly at his face.

“I am sorry,” she whispered
, in a tone so morose it filled him with an inexplicable empathy.

“Wh
atever for?”

Lily drew back, startled, and he knew his personal bitterness had leaked into his tone
. Arthur reached out to comfort her, but she withdrew from his touch.

“I should have told you before, I am not a normal woman.”

He continued to stare, cocking his brow.

“I am not normal
. Wor . . . Worthington always told me I was fri . . . gid. An icicle. I never wanted to believe it, but I think he spoke true. I should have told you.”

Arthur
rose up on one elbow, so he could look at her more clearly in the dim candlelight. Almost as if trying to hide from him, she turned her face away.

“I wanted
it to be different, hoped it would be different. But it’s not.” She choked a little. “I am not made to be a wife, but I couldn’t say no.”

Arthur let himself fall back into the pillows beside her as he considered this painfully revealed secret
.

“I, too, am sorry if I caused you such displeasure,
my lady. I did not mean to trap you in this situation. I thought it would be best for both of us. It seemed to solve all problems. Now it is clear that is not so.”

He knew that he had spoken too formally when she turned and shrank further from him.

She whispered, “I didn’t mean to do this. There was no need for you to stop. Please don’t worry that I’ll try to keep you from my bed. I know my duty. You needn’t worry about me. I am more than capable of doing what is needed. All you have to do is tell me what you want and I’ll do my best.”

Cold fury rose up within him
. Did she think he was some type of animal to assuage his lusts on any warm body nearby?

Arthur
knew his voice sounded cold and flat as he answered, but he felt so demeaned and affronted that he did not care. “I am not sure I understand.”

Lily
stiffened. Deep shivers shook her, and she turned her face back towards him, her eyes large and dark. Arthur softened, remembering that she had good cause to be afraid. Her husband had been killed, she and her baby had been attacked, and the culprits had not been caught. Only two days ago she had admitted she believed herself so utterly alone that it had not even occurred to her to summon help in a fire.

“I am sorry,
your grace. Worthington often explained to me that men like certain things, things a wife must do to keep her husband pleased.” Lily reached out and drew one shaking hand down his chest. Her fingers rubbed through the hair on his chest, circling one nipple, before slowly moving down past his navel to lightly stroke his now soft manhood. She wrapped her fingers around it, and with an expertise that contrasted with her seeming innocence, began to massage him.

Arthur
might have come fully aroused were it not for the trembling of her fingers and the frozen stillness in her eyes. He had seen that same expression on the face of a doe when he’d chanced upon her one night with lantern held high, an animal caught without knowing in which direction safety lay.

“Please,
your grace, just tell me what you want. I’ll do anything. Please.” As she spoke she lowered her head again. Her body jerked slightly before her lips followed the trail of her fingers across his chest.

Surely she wouldn’t
. She couldn’t mean to. She did. He drew away before she could close her lips around him.

What madness possessed her to think she had to
compel herself to do what she so clearly found distasteful? Yet Arthur knew he would have responded very differently if she had been motivated by desire.

H
is guts clenched. He had not forced her to the altar, would never have married a wife who could not provide an heir. Why hadn't she simply told him the truth? Surely, she realized he would have found some other way to protect her, if only she’d revealed how repugnant she found him. He turned back to her, ready to make his emotions very plain.

Then he saw her
. She’d drawn herself up on her knees, dark hair swirling around her, her skin glowing like pearls in the dim light, and tears streaming in endless trails down her cheeks.

Carefully
, he moved towards her. He reached out an arm and, slowly, and keeping his eyes locked with hers, drew her firmly towards his chest. He could barely remember his anger as she held herself taut for a moment before, with a further release of tears, she melted against him. Her body molded to his like butter in July. She turned her face into his chest and burrowed against him. With great caution, afraid to spook her further, Arthur wrapped his arms around her and held her safe.

He didn’t know how long they reclined like that
. It could have been only a moment or an hour; all he knew was the gradual easing of her breath as her sobbing subsided. Finally, they resolved into the deep, even breathing that he took for sleep. He prepared to ease her down into the pillows.

“What did I do wrong?
” He barely heard the mumbled words.

The briefest flash of irritation flared and died
. She really didn’t know. She had no idea what she’d done wrong.

Wrapping his fingers under her chin he raised her face to meet his gaze
. Lily resisted slightly, clearly more comfortable with her face buried against him, her thoughts unreadable.

“Do you really not know
? Do you think any man wants to be approached in fear and terror?”

Bafflement shadowed
her face. “But, I thought men . . . well, Worthington – he never cared. I . . . I think he actually liked when I was frightened. He responded faster . . . I mean his . . . it grew –.”

“Most men aren’t like that
. We want a woman to enjoy herself, to want us.”

Her eyes grew large
. “Do women really like that? I can’t imagine.”

As if realizing the potential for insult in her words
, a delicate red flush rose up her breasts and into her face. She snuggled against him again, unaware of her own nakedness. “I just mean it always hurt, that’s why I froze. How could that be enjoyable?”

“It doesn’t normally hurt
. If a woman is excited and desires a man, it can be very pleasant.”

“I always wondered why the maids
giggled when they talked about . . .” Lily shut her mouth suddenly and he could see the cogs moving in her mind as her eyes darted back and forth. “Not that your maids gossip, your grace.”

“Can’t you call me Arthur any more?”

The flush darkened. “I am sorry, your grace. Arthur. I just hope to be a proper wife to you.”

Arthur carefully laid his lips against her brow and laid a gentle kiss
upon her velvet skin.

“Did you enjoy the kiss
? Not this one, but the one before.”

If possible
, she blushed even more deeply. She lowered her eyes from his.

“I don’t know
. It was nice at first – more than nice. It was wonderful. But then I started to feel strange, to tingle and ache. I am not sure that I liked it. It was hard to remain still under it.”

“Who said you were supposed to
remain still?”

She answered without looking up
. “I thought, well Worthington said . . .”

“I think you need to forget what Worthington said,” Arthur
interrupted, as his hands softly stroked her cheeks. “Well, perhaps first you’d better tell me what Worthington said. You’d better tell me everything he said. Tell me about your other marriage, so that I can understand.”

Lily tightened
. He could feel her withdraw from him, not just physically but emotionally, as well. She pulled her head from between his fingers, and wrapped her arms tight about herself.

“I guess I owe you that,”
she replied, in a flat, dull voice.

Arthur
wanted to assure her that she owed him nothing, but before he could find the words she slipped from the bed and wrapped a coverlet tightly around her body. Her features were unreadable. “I didn’t want to marry him. I did everything I could to avoid it, but in the end I had no choice.”

“Explain.”

Lily grew silent for a long interval and Arthur feared she might stop her narrative. He wanted to encourage her, but dared not speak. He had already botched the evening, from beginning to end. Finally, with a sigh, she turned toward the window and resumed.

“I was fifteen when I met
Worthington. My mother had been dead more than half a dozen years and I’d been living with my uncle. My uncle was not fond of the responsibility, but he was not one to shirk duty, either.”

Arthur
saw nothing blameworthy in this.

“He didn’t believe, though, that any kindness or care
must attend that duty. I hardly ever saw him in my childhood. From the moment I arrived, I was shut in the nursery, and only let out for scheduled walks and lessons. Uncle didn’t want the inconvenience of a child about the house. I never tried to escape
his
nursery.” Her words echoed.

The one simple phrase told Arthur
how alone she must have felt. The minx he remembered would never have let herself be contained.

“The year I turned fifteen
,” Lily continued, “he decided I should be allowed to attend certain social events he was hosting. He wouldn’t have wanted anybody to say he wasn’t caring for me properly, preparing me for society.”

She turned back towards
Arthur, her eyes cold and remote in the candlelight, as if she were miles away.

“It was
at Martinmas that, for some reason, Uncle decided to host a soiree. I was expected to attend, but I hugged the shadows much as I had as a child. I didn’t know how to mingle with guests, and paid only the barest attention to introductions.

“
When my presence was not required, I tried to stay out of their way. I took to haunting the stables to avoid the gaggles of fine ladies, who made me feel awkward and uncomfortable. I didn’t bother to dress to my station. I was sure the horses wouldn’t mind my outgrown plain nursery clothes. I never considered the way I must have looked. Worthington found me there. He had no idea who I was. He thought I was a maid, hiding from my work. He . . .”

Lily’s
voice trailed off as she fought for words. The light glimmered almost eerily on her face as her eyes met Arthur’s. The glow cast a pall over her features, annihilating the normally sweet cherry of her lips.

Arthur knew the end of this story, but he could not stop the words leaking from his lips
. “What did he do?”

Lily just continued to stare at him, before turning away
abruptly. She walked to the window again and stared into the blackness.

“I didn’t tell him who I was
. I was afraid of getting in trouble with Uncle. Perhaps if I had tried to explain right away . . . but it doesn’t matter. He . . . he came up behind me and wrapped his arms around me. When I tried to struggle, he laughed and called me lusty. At first I didn’t struggle hard. It never occurred to me what could happen.”

She took a deep
, calming breath.

“He
cupped my breasts in his rough hands and he squeezed them hard, ripping my dress down. I tried again to fight him, but he just laughed, and then he . . . he cuffed me across the face. Not too hard, but enough to quiet me. When he pushed me down into the straw, I tried again. I needed to explain, but he didn’t care, didn’t listen.”

She pulled the blankets more tightly about herself
. She had started to shiver again and Arthur longed to rise up from the cushions and wrap himself around her, to comfort her. But he knew better than to touch her now, lest he stop the healing flow of her words, or heaven forbid, provide another reminder of the humiliation she had suffered at Worthington's hands.

“I didn’t even know what was going to happen
. When his hands pushed beneath my skirt and ripped at my clothing, I knew it was wrong, but not why. I was horrified to be touched there, but then I didn’t know what horror was. I was lying in the hay. I couldn’t breath. He was so heavy. He stank like a distillery. It was overpowering. All I wanted was to breathe. I couldn’t think beyond that next breath. I think I just avoided thinking what was happening. His hands were so large; I remember thinking that. He bit my breast and I still didn’t understand.”

Her speech accelerated
, as if she needed to get the words out fast, before she could change her mind.