Time After Time (183 page)

“Ask me again.”

“Theo, please.”

He moved his hands to cup her face, brushing his fingers over her brow and cheeks. He kissed her gently, reverently, as if she were a delicate porcelain icon. He wanted her to know this was not just a quick tumble. He had had a different set of intentions for this evening, but they had fallen before her heated assault. Lust and brandy had addled his brain, however. He couldn’t begin to explain it to her now. But maybe it had to be this way.

“You’re precious to me,” he whispered before kissing her again, working his hands around her shoulders and nestling her to him gently, settling her in for a long period of worship.

Margaret, however, had other plans. She rubbed her body against his length. It was wanton and glorious. Theo felt himself growl. He had to have her. He’d simply waited too long and, having promised himself he would act rather than check himself, he was ready to do precisely that.

She helped him untie her drawers and he rolled them from her body, exposing her pale, shapely legs. He wouldn’t allow himself to look any higher for fear of being overcome with lust. He raised one foot to his mouth and kissed her instep. His mouth traveled up, over her calf to her knee and then to the soft flesh of her thigh. He could smell the earthiness of her body now, musky and beguiling. He paused to unbutton his trousers and to shove them and his smalls from his body.

Theo paused for a moment to regard Margaret. She was so beautiful. So responsive. So vital. He wanted to take her inside himself, to learn to live through her example. Once this was done, he would … no, not even for thoughts of the future, not even for plans for their marriage, would he interrupt this moment. He was going to make her his. For years had he waited; now he owed her his full attention.

As softly as he could, he placed one hand on the small triangle of downy hair between her legs. She caught a sharp breath and her eyes slammed shut. He urged his fingers into the folds of her body. She made a small noise of pleasure and bit his shoulder. As he teased her, she alternated between lying like a statute, frozen and silent, and thrashing about in moments of carnal release even she couldn’t control.

When at last he felt moisture against his hand, he knew it was time. Everything in their relationship — all the serendipity, the arguments, the delays — they all built to this moment.

He positioned himself above her and whispered hoarsely, “Margaret, open your eyes.”

Obedient for once, her steady gaze was so patient and so trusting that Theo almost wept. He didn’t deserve what was in her eyes, not with what he was about to do. He entered her as slowly as he could, stopping to brush kisses on her face several times. At last he was sheathed in her.

His muscles trembled then from the effort of holding back, of giving her a minute to adjust. A tear did escape his eye then. With his heightened senses in the moment, he could feel it travel down his cheek into his beard. They were connected: finally, intimately joined.

He should tell her what she meant to him. Ask, no, beg her to marry him. But he was suddenly afraid. What if she declined him? No, she was here, now, with him. In this moment, it was enough.

All he asked was, “Are you in pain?”

She shook her head but worried her lip between her teeth.

“Please tell me if I hurt you.” At last, he began to move. He tried to master himself and to go slowly, but instinct took over and he thrust into her again and again. Margaret gripped him with her legs and clawed at his back with her nails. The tension built until he shouted her name and collapsed on top of her in release.

It had been as exquisite as he had always imagined it would be. Revelatory.

He pressed his lips to her hair, breathing her in and trying to prepare himself to separate from her. He rearranged their clothing and their bodies so that Margaret was covered by her nightdress and nestled in the crook of his body.

After the power of speech had returned to him, he said, “That was … you are … I know not what.”

She nodded. “It certainly was.”

He craned his head to look at her. Between the shadows and her closed eyes, he couldn’t gauge her feelings. “Are you injured?”

“Not seriously.”

“Margaret, I — ”

“Theo, let’s try to sleep. We’ll speak in the morning.”

“Good night, then.” He kissed the part in her hair and settled himself in the hay, satiated for the first time in years. Sleep came quickly and heavily for him with Margaret pressed against his heart.

Chapter IV

Margaret’s slippers crunched on the gravel, making a disconcerting amount of noise as she skirted the school’s gardens. Each grind of stone against stone caused her to jump. But no one was near. There were no witnesses.

She watched the faintest tinge of violet appear at the eastern lip of the sky, bruising it. Birds stirred in the trees, preparing to sing but not quite starting yet. Morning raced to arrive, hustling night out ahead of it.

Behind her Theo slumbered in the stable. Before her stood the hulking black edifice of the seminary. She was leaving a luxurious, heated dream and returning to chill, stiff truth. No matter how many steps she took, she still had farther to go.

Her actions the previous night were … if not unwise, then unmeasured. It wasn’t the loss of her virtue precisely that nagged. No,
that
was a commodity with declining value.

Theo: he was the problem. Once she had known he was leaving, she had to give him something. To write in lightning the emotions she couldn’t quite name or explain. Their relationship needed to be marked in some way. And mark it they had.

What would he say? What would he expect? Would she see him again?

He had seemed pleased. The crisis had taken him violently and released him to sleep. For her part, she felt confused. She had experienced bracing intimacy and oneness, but also compression and anxiety and frustration.

These things weren’t the same for women as for men, she knew, but she envied Theo the gratification on his features when she had left him. Before had been wonderful, but after? “Was that all?” she had wanted to ask, but she didn’t want to wound him.

Once she entered the seminary, it would be over. For one night she had shirked the responsibility that would define the next, the final, decades of her life. Not to mention the decades that had come before. Last night had been about farewelling Theo. Even if he could never change, could never be the man she’d once hoped was within him, no other would ever touch her life as he had.

Together they had acknowledged this. Celebrated it. And now it was time to wake up.

Her fingers curled around the rusting metal handle. With one final glance around, she wrenched, and the back door to the seminary squawked open. She leapt inside, her back slamming into the door for the barest space before she bounded up the stairs. She encountered no one but shadows, and once she’d opened the door to her room, she found her icy bed in an instant.

Safe beneath the counterpane, however, the questions began again. Had she done right in leaving him? With the reduced activity of summer, no one would enter the stable for hours. Probably. Surely he would wake soon and vacate with haste.

Yet even as she felt herself nod in the darkness, she knew she hadn’t woken him because she hadn’t known what to say to him. She needed … she knew not what.

Rolling her head into the pillow and her hands against the freezing narrowness of her bed, she willed herself to bind the beast that had roared from within her only a few hours prior. This was her future. Last night had been an indulgence.

Restless, she waited for a reasonable hour to rise and get on with the business of the remainder of her life.

• • •

The crow of a rooster woke Theo at dawn. Blinking awake, he became aware of the unsteady rhythm in his head.

It took no time at all for the prior night before to come crashing back: his enlistment, the ensuing celebration, and Margaret. Sweet Margaret. Kissing him, whispering “please,” and reclining against the hay, eyes thick with wanting him. He remembered plunging into her, warm and hot over and over again. Possessing her as thoroughly as any man had ever possessed any woman. Now he had to make it right.

He was cold and his joints stiff, but his body hungered for Margaret. Where had she gotten off to? He ran his hand over the small indentation in the hay next to him where she had slept. It hadn’t all been a dream. She had been here. Perhaps she had feared her absence being noticed. Pushing the concerns about her having left him away, he rose and dressed hastily.

As his dumb fingers fumbled with the buttons on his shirt, he took stock of his situation. He was a dirty mess, and it was probably before six. He was in no state to ask for a lady’s hand. He needed to get home. Now.

He decided to borrow one of the seminary’s horses. He would bring it back before they noticed it was gone.

Once he was back in his chamber, he washed, dressed, and proceeded across the house to pound on his mother’s bedroom door.

“Thank you, Lord!” Mother cried when he entered. “I was so worried, Theodore. Are you hurt? Where were you all night?”

“Enlisting in the Union Army.”

“Excuse me?”

“Enlisting. I’ve joined a company which is scheduled to enter the Fifth Connecticut Regiment next month, and from there we go into the Union Army.” His mother blanched. Somehow he suspected this next piece of intelligence would be more disturbing still. “That’s not nearly all. Margaret Hampton. I know you’ve never warmed to her, but I have. I cannot live without her. I’m going to propose to her this morning. This instant, nearly. I hope to make her my wife. Today if at all possible.”

Mother opened and shut her mouth several times, but no noise emerged. She looked rather like a fish who had leapt out of its bowl. A squeaky protest issued at last. A sound that communicated her absolute disdain for his plan. Well, he hadn’t expected her to like it. But this was a problem for another moment. Now he had to deal with Margaret.

He took her hand and softened his tone. “I know that’s a great deal of news, so I will leave you to reflect on it. I’m sorry for your worry last night … and I love you.” He stooped and kissed Mother’s cheek before departing from the room. If he waited for her rebuttal, he would never escape. Besides, it had been efficiently and confidently done.

Shutting the door, he clambered down the stairs and out the door. The sky was a faultless expanse of blue. The buttery yellow light spilled down the street. The leaves on the trees looked as if they had been washed, so brightly did they shine.

There was something eternal about it that reminded him of childhood. Yet Theo could barely remember a day so beautiful, so hopeful, even in his boyhood. He climbed onto his borrowed horse and rode toward the seminary, urging it on with his heels whenever its pace slackened.

Too many minutes later, he sprung down and handed the reins to a confused stable boy. The walk through the gardens took another brisk minute and then he was at the ornate front door on which he pounded. A stunned maid received him.

“Good morning! Has Miss Hampton risen?”

“She has, but I don’t think she is yet receiving visitors,” the girl stammered.

“Tell her Theodore Ward is here to call. I’ll wait.”

He strode over to the window in the front parlor, attempting to project confidence. In truth he had no idea what his reception would be. Margaret had abandoned him, after all. Maybe they didn’t share the same perception of the previous night.

Two minutes later — he knew, he was watching the ticking clock on the mantle — he heard the soft fall of footsteps behind him.

A sonorous voice asked, “Mr. Ward, to what do I owe the pleasure so early this morning?”

When he turned toward her, he realized she was speaking to the rug, a becoming blush spread over her neck and cheeks. She wore a gray morning dress and held herself rigid, as its steel hue would suggest she should. However was he going to convince her?

“Margaret.” Her eyes were still downcast, but he couldn’t keep his intentions out of his voice. She looked at him finally, and he hoped she understood it all. “Ask me to walk with you in the garden.”

Her expression was blank, as if she didn’t understand. She nodded only when he offered his arm to her. She stopped to retrieve her bonnet and gloves and met him outside a moment later.

He shepherded her out into the air and onto the nearest bench. How to begin this conversation? Last night in the stable, he’d had a speech prepared until she’d launched herself at him and his plans had melted before her warmth and responsiveness.

“How do you fare this morning?” she asked, still speaking to the ground.

“I will be better once you agree to marry me.”

“What?” She jolted up and almost shouted, eyes wide with surprise. Perhaps his face hadn’t conveyed everything after all.

Abandoning the lengthy opening list of sentiments that usually accompanied proposals in the novels he’d read, he led with what he considered to be his strongest argument. “I may have gotten a child on you last night. You will marry me.”

She was crimson now, but unpersuaded. She shook her head. “No, Theo. Don’t charge in here acting like you have to save me. I asked you to. I knew what I was doing.” She set her chin and looked away from him.

On to the next tactic, then. “If not because you may be carrying my baby, then, do it because it’s the only way I can go to war and feel secure.”

“How are the two linked?”

“I will worry about you every day until my return. It could be years. Let me make you my wife. Let me extend my roof to you, my money. Let Mother take care of you.”

“Why?” she demanded, nostrils flaring and brow furrowed.

He took her hands gently and used the last weapon in his arsenal. “What did I say to you the night of the dance at McDonough House? Because it’s time. We’ve spent too many years pretending we can live without each other. Where did it get us? Exactly where we started, only unhappy. Let’s try life another way, then. And until this war is over and we can be together, let me spread my mantle before you. Marry me.”