The Viscount Returns (9 page)

"I thought that I was in love. I knew it was wrong, but I also knew I was different. Jefferson was the son of my father’s steward and my childhood companion and friend. Together we shared everything and later we even shared our first kiss. He confessed his love for me before I knew what I felt and I will not deny what I felt. He was an infatuation or first love or whatever you wish to call it. I know that my feelings for him were strong and that I made my own choices, but I also know that my desires do not define who I am. I have loved men in my life." Turning to her, he crossed back to the bed, dropping to his knees and desperately taking her hands in his. "But I am in love only with you. They are all in my past, but you are my future and only with you will I find my true path." Kissing the palms of her hands, he heard her begin to weep. "Please tell me I am not too late? Please tell me I can still gain your forgiveness?" He looked up into her red tear-filled eyes. "Please tell me that one day you could still love me?"

The words were a phantom that floated in the air. Nothing seemed real. For a moment she was lost between reality and her dreams. After all these years and waiting, hoping and crying for the man who had seduced her innocence away and who had branded her heart, he was now at her feet, begging for her forgiveness and love. Over and over she had played this same scenario and in recent years she had imagined the devastated look on his face when she rejected him, but now things were different and they were different. Now the pain was hers and her heart was his.

"We hardly know each other." And in that was the truth of both their fathers’ meddling. She had been courted by his brother, but they did not know each other and after eight years they were still strangers to each other. They did not have a life of shared experiences, and other than a passionate wedding night and the birth of their sons—a momentous moment taken from him by Jefferson—there was nothing else holding them together, yet they could not break away from each other.

"But I do know you." Shaking her head, she tried to pull away from his grip, but in her weakened state she could not find the fight.

Pain seared from the burns on her wrists where she had been tied to the bed and it was then that Fiona looked about the room. All signs of the fight she had been forced to watch from her bed were now gone. Shattered breakables had been cleaned away and were now replaced with fresh cut hothouse flowers; flowers beyond her household expenses. The bed linen was a fine silk and satin patchwork. Her bed was the same, but all other furniture had been cleared out and replaced and over the fireplace was her wedding portrait that had been commissioned when she was betrothed to Dominic. The room sparkled.

Figures began to ring in Fiona's head. How could they afford all of this? She knew the accounts better than anyone and knew what they could not afford. Had her foolish husband placed them in debt to try and lift her spirits? Trying to find the courage to ask him what all of this cost, they were disturbed by a soft knock at the door. Robert called out to the intruder and admitted a young woman of nineteen or twenty. She was dressed in a formal maid’s costume and domed with a lace cap. Turning to Fiona, the maid gave a curtsy and offered to bring her a morning chocolate.

"This is Sally, Fiona. Sally will attend to you. She is your new lady’s maid.” Her confusion was transparent on her face and Robert answered it for her. “Sally arrived yesterday while you were still in bed."

In bed? That brought on a new realization.

"How long have I been in bed?" Swallowing back a lump, she feared the answer.

Robert looked down at his slippered feet and it was then that she realized her polished husband was still in his dressing gown and he had at the very least a day's growth on his face. Reaching up, she caressed his scratchy jaw.

"It has been nearly three days since Jefferson was apprehended." He nodded to Sally to leave them for now and then returned his focus to his wife, listening to the door close. Fiona was stunned at the loss of so much time. "The Doctor has been to visit you every day, assuring me that there was no permanent damage and that your sleep was more of a result of the drugs and shock. He instructed me to see to your rest and this gave me the chance to try and remove anything of the nightmare from your room." Choking on his words, he struggled to find strength. "I was terrified that I had lost you and that I would never be given the chance to show you what you mean to me. I know that our start was not a girl’s dream and that I am not the prince that my brother was, but I promise you I will strive to make things right by you."

Dazzling, strong eyes met her and she was washed over with love. He had never intended to abandon her? He had also shared in the same passionate feelings that night? He truly wanted a marriage and not an arrangement in name only?

Question after question flooded in her mind until at last she was warmed with the burning knowledge that life and love had not abandoned her. Perhaps together they could begin their lives and work over again and to banish all the demons that Jefferson had cast upon them?

Fiona's arms ached for her husband, but reaching for him her body reminded her that she was still in a weakened state. Her arms failing her, she looked down at her arms and saw the raw marks that had been left from days before. Most of the redness was now gone and replaced with gruesome yellow, black, and blue bruises.

"I..." His voice quivered with his nerves. Fiona looked up at her husband, bracing herself for his next revelation.

"I had a chance to...to...interrogate Jefferson and he confessed to everything including hiding our letters from each other and transferring the funds I sent to you into his own private account." Looking deep into her eyes, he was trying to reach her with his gaze. "He even confessed to keeping the knowledge of our...sons from me."

If he said another word after that Fiona didn't know and didn't care. Had she heard him right? Had he come to yell at her again for keeping one of his sons from him or was he seeking revenge for the one who didn't survive? Trying to crawl away from him to flee in her defense, she was restrained by his grip.

"Fiona, please." Pulling her to him, she fought her best to escape for fear of her life. Could a man ever forgive a woman for not being strong enough to bring both his sons into this world?

"No!" she screamed, clawing at the bedding with her feet, trying to pull away from his hold. Her wrists pained from the bruises under his grip until she finally cried out before collapsing in a weeping heap.

Pulling her limb-by-limb into his arms, Robert’s heart broke to see her in so much pain and fear. Was it him? Had he given her reason for such fright? Did she think he blamed her for all that had happened in his absence?

"Come, my love, and let me hold you."

"No...no...no," she whimpered in protests as she fell into his arms.

"Please, my love, you are too weak and we need to start to lean on each other. You have had that poison in your system and I have a life to try and earn back." Pulling her onto his lap, she curled up into a ball, tucking her head under his chin.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry," she babbled, sniffing at her tears.

"Hush, hush, my love. I am the only one who should beg for apologies." Nuzzling his nose into her hair, he kissed the top of her head.

"But your son. I killed him."

Struck down by her confession, Robert was pained to hear her take on blame for their son’s demise. He knew the truth about his son as well as what had befallen the letters that he had waited patiently for that first year he lived in Boston. Jefferson’s evil knew no bounds and once trapped in the cellar with no hope of escaping alive he was quick to confess all his evils to Robert for hope of a merciful heart, but the boy that Jefferson had manipulated had long grown up, and Robert saw to Jefferson’s day in court.

"You did not kill our son."

"Oh God! Please forgive me..." she cried out in pain. All of the torture and agony over the years flooded out in her wails. Clawing at the air, Fiona cried out over and over again for her lost child. "I loved them. I wanted them so much. Oh God! I wish I was dead!" Falling into his chest, heartbreak and loss sobbed from her cries.

"Hush. Hush, my love." Robert cooed. "None of this was your fault and it is all behind us. Our son was not strong enough to live on his own. It was nothing you did and he is in a better place now. One day we will all be joined together, but for now we have an amazing son who you have raised and who loves you and needs you...and...I need you."

Silenced in his arms, Fiona looked up, blinking her red eyes clear of tears. The grief and sadness were taken away by her shock. Was it possible that in her cries she had not heard his endearments as he held her? Could it be so hard for her to believe that he could love her? Her lips were parted and drew him in. Claiming her mouth, he kissed her with a rage and need that erupted. She had to know what was in his heart. She had to know that she was what he desired. She was the first and only woman he had known and damn it she would be the last.

Fiona's fight was soon washed away with her husband’s persistence as she melted into his kiss. Their bodies molded to each other and it was harmonious. She was his beloved, his bride, and his lover. Suddenly he was flooded with memories of their one night together and for once he was not ashamed of his actions. He was not the monster that defiled her, he was a man impassioned by his bride and together they shared something great and powerful. Perhaps a gentle hand should have been used the first time he claimed his virgin bride, but no one had told him what to do or what to expect. Not this time. This time his bride was hurting, her soul had been ripped open by a monster and he would heal her with a soft, gentle hand. With the tender touch that he should have shown her all those years ago.

Falling into his arms, Fiona was laid back onto the bed, lost in his passionate kisses. Reaching up, her arms wrapped around his neck and Robert released her lips only to look down at the woman he loved. She was a fighter, strong and fearless. She was all the things he had not been eight years ago, but now he was a man ready to claim his bride and his household.

"You are so beautiful." Smiling down at her, Robert toyed with loose curls of her hair. She was battered and bruised, but still her beauty shined through. Leaning down, he gently kissed all the bruises that lined her jaw and neck. Silently cursing his former steward for what he had done to Fiona. Leaning into him, she forced his kisses deeper into her and soon he had abandoned her tender face and was kissing down along her neck into the warmth of her collar. She was soft and sweet. This was his bride. This was the innocent that he ravaged so long ago. She was a drug to him that ignited a passion he feared he would never control.

"Robert." His name escaped her lips in a breath. Dipping his head lower, he found her round full breasts and suckled her erect nipples through the thin linen of her gown. Filling each of his hands with her womanly shape, he was a greedy man hungry for her body. "Robert...I need...I'm so..." Licking her dry lips, she was struggling with his advances.

"Shh." He cooed to her. "Shh, my love." He released her to brush her hair with his hands. "I am not going to take from you what you cannot give tonight." Tender, his voice was soft, matching a peaceful look in his eyes. "But let me give to you." Kissing one breast and then the other. "Let me serve you." Pulling her hem up, exposing her abdomen before giving a lingering and warm kiss to her belly. "Let me love you," he confessed, pulling both her hands to his face and kissing her red wrists before releasing them. "Let me adore you." He moved between her legs and dropped his head again to kiss a trail down her belly, bringing his kisses closer and closer to her mound. "Let me try to deserve you." Each kiss and plea was breaking his heart. How could he show her what was in his heart and how he had already changed for her? She was that part of him that he had run from for so long, but he could no longer run, he could no longer reject what he felt for her and what she did too.

Arms, legs, breasts...she was a tapestry of sensuality spread out for Robert’s pleasure and he was unraveling her one thread at a time. Starting with her long hair, he released her long black locks from the twists and turns of her braid. Her hair was soft and lush, waving down her back and over her shoulders, finishing with curls at the ends. Stretching his fingers wide, he let the strands fall between them, bringing her mane to his face, and he inhaled the scent of lemon and rose water—both a new gift from him.

Burying his face in her neck, he took in her scent before running his strong tongue down the column of her neck and over her shoulder where her tender flesh puckered with goose flesh when he nipped at her. She was more beautiful and responsive than he remembered. All these years he had fed off of the memories and dreams of their one night together as man and wife and never in all these years had he imagined her to be an avatar of sex.

"Tell me of your travels." Breathy and dry mouthed, she tried to find focus in her rising heat.

"Pardon?" Popping his head up to attention.

"Tell me of your travels.” Now meeting him eye to eye. "I want to know you. I want to know what you have seen."

Scattered thoughts and images passed before his eyes with a montage of a flashback.

Tell her of his travels? How could he think of anything much less speak when his erection was a raging spear of stone? Just the thought of anything beyond her breathtaking curves and mounds was almost more than he could bear. Leaning back on his bent arm, he looked over her lush body in praise. There was so much he had left behind. Had he only known she had been here waiting for him, he would have never stayed away for so long. Leaning his head in his hand, he plucked her right one in his free hand and held it up to his lips. Kissing each fingertip at a time, he paused to draw in her natural scent.