The Book Of Scandal (24 page)

She leaned forward and put the last bite of pudding cake in the basket and carefully wiped her hands. Nathan put his hand to her nape and caressed a long, slow path down her spine.

“I cannot forget how much you enjoyed our marriage bed,” he murmured. “I think about it often.”

Evelyn shifted onto her knees and glanced over her shoulder at him. The longing in his expression was almost her undoing. She felt beautiful, desirable…and a bit afraid. Perhaps because she felt that desire within herself, right alongside her misgivings.

“Is that what you recall?” she asked, her voice intentionally breathless.

He smiled a little. “That,” he said, caressing her back again, “and how it feels to be inside you. How you look when you find fulfillment—”

She moved abruptly, pouncing on him, knocking him deep into the pillows and onto his back, pinning his arms to his sides. “Do you recall anything other than your lust, Nathan?”

Nathan suddenly surged up. He recklessly twisted them both around, toppling the basket as he put her on her back on the green cloth. He braced himself and stared down at her. “Don’t you recall yours, my love?”

“The pleasure from a marriage bed should not be the measure of a marriage!” she said adamantly.

“In your eyes it seems every bump, every cross word, is the measure. Do you want to know what else I remember, Evelyn? Not every cross word. Not every bump. I remember how you look in the morning when you first awake. I remember the sound of your laughter. I remember how your hair catches the candlelight and seems at times to be spun with gold,” he said, roughly caressing her head. “I remember the wreath of flowers you wore in your hair and how beautiful you were the day I married you. I remember the brilliant glow of happiness in your eyes when you told me you carried our child. I remember how much you love pudding cake and lavender perfume and how it delighted you to participate in an archery match.”

Evelyn couldn’t breathe, could not draw a breath. She was mesmerized by him—he was passionate and angry at once, his eyes blazing yet full of yearning.

“And I remember,” he said, his eyes tracing a burning path down her body, “what it feels like to make love to my wife. There is no feeling on this earth quite like it, and I refuse to apologize for wanting it again.”

Oh, but she wanted it, too. Now, in this make-believe picnic. Yet her fears, all the things she had tamped down, locked away, were beating at the door. “Physical desire colors your opinion of our true situation, Nathan,” she said. “But it won’t change the reality of all the pain between us. What of our past and everything that’s happened between us?” she asked, trying to move, trying to escape those eyes.

Nathan held her firmly. “More than bad things have happened between us. Good things have happened between us! But Evie, if you don’t want to remember, we’ll make new memories. Starting now,” he said, and slipped his arm beneath her neck, pulling her up to him at the same moment he lowered his head to kiss her.

She gasped at the sensation of his passionate kiss. She tasted the wine on his lips, felt the stubble of his beard on her chin, the strength of his embrace. She had always loved to be in his arms. When he held her, nothing could touch her, nothing could hurt her. But tonight she was frozen, uncertain of what to do, unsure of how to proceed. Part of her wanted to stop, for herself, for her sanity—but her heart and her body, starved for a man’s touch, was urging her on.

Evelyn dipped her tongue into his mouth, touching the tip of his. He groaned, and Evelyn felt as if a part of her were falling, drifting down into the woman she’d once been, the woman who had craved this man with every fiber of her being.

Nathan rolled them onto their side, and then onto his back, dragging Evelyn on top of him. He cradled her head in his hands as his lips moved across hers, feeling them, tasting them, nipping at them. His tongue swirled inside her mouth as desire swirled inside of her. He caressed the column of her neck, his knuckles grazing her earring, then moving again, rolling her onto her back once more, his lips never leaving hers. His hand drifted down to her bosom, and he cupped her breast, massaging it.

Evelyn was lost, entirely captive to his hands and mouth. She was heedless of anything but him, his body, and the evidence of his longing pressed against her thigh. His mouth was so enticing, and as he kissed her, she imagined those lips on her breasts, between her legs. When he touched his mouth to her neck, she shuddered with uncontrollable desire. “Nathan…”

“Whatever you want, Evie,” he whispered in her ear. “Whatever you need, I will give it to you.”

She was without reason or thought, filled with physical and emotional longing that surprised her. Her gown felt heavy. She wanted to feel his skin on her skin, his body hard and lean against her softness. She pushed her fingers through his hair, felt his ears, his shoulders, his back. He lifted her breast from her gown and bent his head to it, laving the tip, sucking it in between his teeth, while she gasped with the prurient sensation.

But when Nathan grabbed a fistful of her gown and began pushing it up her body, her heart skipped. She put her hand on his, pushing it down. “No, please wait,” she said weakly, trying to swim out of the fog of her desire.

“What?” he said roughly, his hand on her thigh. “Do I displease you? Tell me what you want me to do,” he said, and gazed at her with dark eyes. “Do you want me to touch you here?” he asked, touching her between her legs.

Evelyn sucked in her breath.

“Or here?” he asked softly, slipping a finger inside her.

“You…you let passion cloud the truth of our marriage,” she whispered breathlessly. “What will come on the morrow when your lust is satisfied?”

“I will work to satisfy yours,” he said roughly, and rolled her over onto her belly. With his hands on her bottom, he leaned over her, his breath in her hair as he caressed her. His thumbs slid between her legs, parting her and reaching the center of her pleasure. “You are wet for me, darling. That is the truth. You want me as I want you,” he breathed into her hair. “The question is, do you want me here?” he said, pressing against her as his thumbs teased her. “Or here?” he asked, and rolled her onto her side. He lifted her leg with his hand and slid against her, rubbing his hard body against hers.

“I am human, Nathan,” she said, closing her eyes to the pleasure he was giving her. “I can be tempted, just as you can—but you are willfully misunderstanding me.”

“I understand that your body wants me inside you,” he said roughly, and fumbled with his trousers, freeing his erection, then pressing it against her, sliding it between her legs, rubbing her swollen peak. “It was always good between us, Evie,” he said breathlessly. “I think you have missed it as much as I have. Tell me you have missed this,” he said, and slid deep inside her.

She had missed it. “No, no…” She pushed away from him.

“Don’t do that, Evie. Please don’t do that,” Nathan said through gritted teeth. But it was too late. Evelyn had almost succumbed, but now she was pushing and scrambling to move away from him. Nathan wouldn’t let go of her at first—he seemed stung by her sudden rejection. He was panting, restraining himself. Evelyn pushed again, and he finally let go of her, rolled onto his back, and slung one arm across his eyes.

His erection was clearly evident; his chest was rising and falling rapidly. She felt the need to explain, to smooth it over. “There is too much that cannot be repaired, and we cannot…we cannot—”

“We can,” he said gruffly, and sat up. Evelyn couldn’t look at him. She busied herself straightening her clothing, then put a hand to her hair. One thick strand had come undone and hung over her shoulder.

Nathan watched her for a moment, then said tightly, “For God’s sake, tell me what it is that you believe is so irretrievably broken. Tell me so that I might repair it.”

“It is difficult to explain,” she said. All the hopes and disappointments, and the fear, that ever-present fear that she would be forced to relive the most excruciating pain a woman could possibly endure. “I can’t do this again, Nathan. I can’t rightly explain other than to say I am a different person now. I am no longer willing to be married for the sake of rank and privilege.”

“What?” he said incredulously, and leapt to his feet, buttoning his trousers and turning to face her, hands on hips. “What in God’s name do you mean by that?”

“Don’t pretend we were married for any other reason,” she said, leaning down to smooth her skirts.

“I won’t pretend it,” he said curtly. “But it went beyond that, and you know it well, Evie.” He startled her by catching her chin in his hand and forcing her to look at him. “You know it did.”

She wrapped her fingers around his wrist and calmly pulled his hand from her face. “Whatever we had fell apart when Robbie died.”

“Lord God, what is it you want?” he cried.

“I want love, Nathan! I want to know that there is nothing that can come between us, that it—I mean, we—will be forever!”

“That’s it?” he said incredulously. “That is what you need?”

She hadn’t really managed to put her deepest desire into words until this very moment, but she did mean it, quite sincerely. She wanted him, but she didn’t want him without that at the very least. She nodded.

Nathan groaned. “I love you, Evelyn,” he said, his eyes now glittering with anger. “I love you, I love you! How many times must I say it? I have always loved you!”

“Don’t, Nathan,” she said, shaking her head. “You cannot repaint the past—”

He cupped her face with his hands, forcing her to look at him. “Listen to me, Evie. I loved you then, and I love you still. I may not have always loved you in the way you wanted to be loved, but as God is my witness I loved you the best way I knew how. If I never told you it would be forever, then I beg your forgiveness, but I never saw it any other way.”

“You…you wanted your friends and diversions more than you wanted me—”

“There are many things I did that I wish I hadn’t done, and many things I didn’t say,” he said, his eyes searching her face. “You are not the only one who has changed, Evie.”

She felt a piece of the invisible guard around her heart break off and fall away. She tried to avoid his gaze, but Nathan turned her face up, forcing her to look at him.

What she saw was heartbreaking. She saw an old and familiar pain she understood better than he could possibly know. It was the pain of being set adrift with no anchor.

“Do not doubt it will be forever, Evie. Forever. It will be until we can no longer draw a breath.”

He left her completely breathless.

His fingers splayed across her cheek. He gazed deep in her eyes a moment, then leaned down, kissing her gently. “Forever,” he whispered, and kissed her again. “Forever.”

She was falling. She sank into his body, her arms going around his neck. The sound of someone knocking on the door seemed a distant noise, a different door. But she heard it again. And again.

Nathan lifted his head. He didn’t move; his gaze locked with hers. “Go away!” he bellowed.

“My lord, I beg your pardon, but it is a matter of some urgency!” Benton called through the door.

“Go away!”

“My lord! It is urgent!” Benton called.

“Bloody hell,” Nathan muttered, and shook his head in disbelief. “Bloody, bloody hell!” His hands fell away from Evelyn’s face and the warmth of them dissipated quickly.

Nathan turned around and looked at the door, almost hidden behind the ornamental trees. “It had better be urgent, sir, or you will be shodding horses at the smithy on the morrow! Come!” he shouted.

The door opened a crack, and Benton slipped through. His eyes, Evelyn noticed, were respectfully on the carpet. “Guests have arrived, my lord,” he announced.

“That’s your urgent matter? Guests? Bring me a gun, Benton, for I must shoot you. Who is it—Wilkes? Donnelly? Tell them to sleep in the stables!”

“I beg your pardon; it is not Lord Donnelly or Sir Wilkes. It is the Marquis and Marchioness of Sudley, and the Baron and Baroness of Wainwright. There seems to have been a misunderstanding. They believe they are expected for supper this evening.”

Evelyn gasped and looked at Nathan. A current of understanding flowed between them: their parents had come calling. Together. A misunderstanding.

“Good Lord,” Nathan said with a sigh, and waved at Benton. “Put them somewhere. Find something to feed them—I hardly care what. But for the love of all that is holy, do please give us a moment!”

“Yes sir,” Benton said, and quickly stepped out, shutting the door.

Nathan looked at Evelyn, his eyes narrowed suspiciously. “I am cursed. I must be cursed. Nothing else explains our parents here, tonight of all nights,” he said irritably.

T he misunderstanding, it seemed, was a note from Alexandra DuPaul that was lost in all the commotion of the fire. Alexandra had expected to host the supper at her house this evening, but the marquis—Nathan’s father—had asked her to change those plans so that they might dine at Eastchurch. The DuPauls had respectfully decided not to attend what seemed an intimate family reunion.

Unfortunately, the note went unread.

Nevertheless, their parents had made themselves at home in the blue drawing room; Nathan’s mother, petite but sturdy, seated next to Evelyn’s mother, who was a little younger and bigger, and with the same hazel eyes as Evelyn. Nathan’s father, the marquis, had silver hair now, but still possessed an athletic build. Evelyn’s father, however, had relaxed in the last years—he’d grown rather portly since Nathan last saw him.

“The Greys and the Brantleys,” Nathan said as he entered the room and strode across the carpet. “What a pleasant surprise.” He greeted them each, and explained that the note had been lost, which, fortunately, they laughed about.

“Benton, some wine,” Nathan said, gesturing to the sideboard. “Evelyn will be down shortly. She and I are very happy that you have come,” he said, before noting that Benton had already served wine before Nathan had even entered the room.

“Darling, we must celebrate Evelyn’s return to Eastchurch Abbey!” his mother exclaimed. “On my word, I’ve not heard happier news all year!”