The Passions of Lord Trevethow Page 8

  He pressed a finger to her lips and shook his head. ‘Whatever it is, it won’t be long enough. Do we have to think about it now?’

  ‘Yes, I think we do. I want to know. I want to drink every drop of joy out of the time we have. I don’t want to be surprised one day to find you gone. I want a chance to say goodbye.’

  Matthew turned his body horizontally and settled her against him so they lay along the length of the bow seat, the sun and the breeze brushing across them in pleasant strokes from the sky. ‘I promise you, I won’t leave without saying goodbye.’

  ‘And I promise you the same.’ She smiled up at him. ‘May I tell you something? I haven’t been to the beach for years, not since my mother died. She used to take me and my brother in the summers. I haven’t been anywhere since she passed away.’ It was the most personal thing she’d told him or anyone. Now that she’d started, she couldn’t seem to stop. All the thoughts, all the grief that she’d kept to herself over the years, trickled out in carefully chosen words. ‘At home, we never talk about her, not really, not beyond the odd remark about how much I look like her. Her death is why my father is so afraid,’ Pen said quietly. ‘Nothing’s been the same since she died. Sometimes I think we all died with her.’

  Then I met you. How will I ever go back to how things used to be?

  Matthew’s lips brushed the top of her head. ‘My brother and I used to come here and swim in the summer.’

  ‘You have a brother?’ She hugged the idea to her, adding it to the facts she had about who he was.

  ‘I did. He died.’

  Em sighed against him, drowsy from the rocking of the boat and the heat of his body. ‘So you know exactly how it is.’ It was a tender but bittersweet thing to have in common with the man she was falling in love with. ‘Would you tell me about him?’

  * * *

  Tell me about him. Cassian’s throat tightened at the invitation. He’d not meant to say even that much about Collin, but he wanted to tell her, here in the boat, with no one around. It seemed the perfect place to do it, to whisper his secrets. Why not tell her, this woman who knew what it meant to lose someone, what it meant to never be able to share that grief? Her hand was drawing light circles on his chest, her fingers tracing him through his shirt, relaxing him as surely as the bob of the boat and the light breeze off the water. His throat eased and words came. ‘Collin was my younger brother. He was dashing and reckless, fearless.’

  He chuckled, remembering his brother. ‘He’d dive into the water and swim with the seals. He’d swim so far we’d have to sail out to retrieve him. We’d warn him to stay close, but he’d never listen. Even in real life, he preferred to swim in deep waters. It didn’t work out for him as well as swimming with the seals.’

  ‘What happened?’ She looked up at him.

  ‘He made some poor choices in business and in love. Both played him false. People were hurt because of his decisions.’ That was the condensed version, but it was the only one he could bring himself to tell. ‘One night he walked out into the waters off Karrek Sands, swam out to the Beasts and never came back. His body washed up a few days later.’

  The family had put about that he’d been caught in the undertow—the water was tricky around the Beasts—but Cassian knew what had really happened. Collin had just given up. He was to blame. He should have stopped Collin from going out that afternoon. He should have cancelled his own appointments when Collin refused to stay home. He should have followed him. He should have stopped Collin long before that afternoon. He shouldn’t have let Collin invest money with Brenley. Looking back, there were so many places in the timeline where he should have stopped Collin, should have made him listen, and he hadn’t. Collin was stubborn and he’d let his brother learn from his mistakes.

  ‘I’m sorry, that’s terrible.’ She leaned up over him, kissing him lightly on the mouth. ‘Thank you for telling me.’ She held his gaze. ‘Life is precious, it should not be wasted, yet I feel as if I’ve wasted too much of it, until I met you. You are so alive, so vibrant, and I feel that way too when I’m with you. Thank you.’

  His hand moved behind her neck, sweeping aside her hair. ‘You make me feel alive, too, Em. More than I’ve felt in a very long time.’ He took her mouth, their bodies shifting, hers moving beneath him, his moving over her, covering her, life and desire surging between them, demanding to be celebrated. But he had to be careful. He could not fall in love with her. This couldn’t last. It served no purpose beyond the moment, yet he wanted...

  She moaned beneath him, her hips rising up to meet his, her legs parting for him as if he were always meant to be there at the cradle of her thighs. Her eyes captured his. ‘I want you, Matthew.’

  ‘I cannot take...’ he began to refuse, to counsel caution while he had any sense left. She was untouched and he could not marry her.

  ‘But I can give.’ She moved against him and he was nearly lost, so thoroughly did she arouse him. ‘No matter what happens, Matthew, I want this first time to be with you, a man I choose.’

  He kissed her hard on the mouth, his lips skimmed the column of her neck as he made his way down her body, every ounce of him wishing she were naked and every ounce of him thankful that she was not. It would be impossible to resist her then, impossible to find the intermediate ground on which he could satisfy her desire without ruining her. ‘I will give you pleasure, Em,’ he vowed fiercely, his hands sweeping beneath her skirts, pushing back the fabric, parting her undergarments until she was bare to him, her curls glistening in the sunlight. ‘Sweet heavens, you’re beautiful.’ His own voice was hoarse with desire.

  Her core was all dampness and want, yearning for his touch. He took her then, with his mouth, his lips, his tongue, his teeth, at the most private part of her. She was gripping him hard, her hands tangled in his hair, her legs wide for him. Em made a little sound in the back of her throat, his own body clenched in answer, moved by her ardent, open response. His tongue flicked over the tight nub within her folds, and she cried out at the exquisite pleasure of it. Again he licked and again the pleasure surged and ebbed, pushing her towards release. Soon it would be inevitable.

  ‘I want...’ she articulated only half a sentence before she lost the capacity for speech, her body focused entirely on pleasure and only pleasure now. But he knew what she wanted. He was pushing her towards a cliff, a place where she might fly, where he might give her a little more of that freedom she craved. He felt the moment she gave herself over to it, the point at which she let him push her all the way, until she claimed her release in a cry that filled the sky.

  He might have held her for hours, both of them drowsing in the aftermath of the afternoon’s intimacy, if it hadn’t been for the seals. A thump against the boat had him upright and alert, his first thought that they’d drifted too far and hit something. But there was no need to worry. The seals had come out to play at last and one of them had bumped against the little boat. ‘Em, come look.’ He shook her awake gently. ‘Seals.’

  Em loved the seals, she loved watching them cavort in the water, diving and gliding through the waves. He brought out the dried fish and she revelled in tossing them into the water and watching the seals swim after them. When she laughed, her entire face lit up, taking simple joy from this simple pleasure. Cassian didn’t think London offered a finer entertainment than this. Em tossed the last fish and wiped her hands on her skirts. ‘I suppose this means it’s time to go?’ They still had to sail the boat in and make the ride on horseback. Cassian nodded and turned the boat around.

  Neither of them spoke as they made the return trip to the beach, but Cassian could feel her eyes on him as he worked the sails. This afternoon had been more than he’d bargained for: more revealing, more passionate. At the beach, he took her hand and didn’t let go. They were together now in a way they hadn’t been at the start of the day. They’d shared important pieces of themselves with one another, exposed a pa
rt of their souls. He’d not intended that to happen. He was usually so guarded, so careful with how he shared himself and what he shared of himself. But Em had broken through those defences with a simple question.

  He helped her up on Ajax and settled himself behind her, selfishly wanting to keep her close for as long as he could. He wrapped his arms about her, his thighs about her, and chirped to his horse. It was getting harder to leave her and yet more likely that he must. His trip to Bodmin for an ally had not born fruit. But he still had time. The Season was weeks away yet. Anything could happen between now and then.

  Cassian had no sooner thought that than ‘anything’ did. A rider came towards them on the road. Em’s hood immediately went up and her body tensed between his legs, even as her head went down, her face completely shrouded by the hood. He did not know the rider, but apparently she did. Cassian nodded politely as the rider passed, throwing them a sceptical look. But Cassian did not stop.

  ‘Who was that?’ he whispered as the danger passed.

  ‘Someone my father knows,’ she whispered, still shaken by the close encounter.

  * * *

  She did not remove her hood for the duration of the ride, nor did she relax until they reached the cottage and he helped her down.

  ‘He didn’t guess who you were.’ Cassian rubbed her arms reassuringly. ‘Everything’s fine. You spotted him before he spotted you.’

  ‘But if I hadn’t?’ she asked sharply. ‘Do you know what would have happened if he’d recognised me?’ She shook her head. ‘Of course not. You can’t possibly know.’

  The rest went unspoken, but Cassian heard it loud enough: Because you don’t who I really am and I don’t know who you really are. This is what happens when time out of time meets reality. The two cannot mix.

  Cassian kissed her solemnly. He did know what would happen. She would be shamed and he would be forced to move on because dukes’ heirs didn’t marry country girls, gentry or not. That was not how he wanted it to end, not after today. ‘We would have sorted it out.’ At least they would have tried. ‘Don’t let it ruin today, Em.’

  She smiled at that, some of her usual confidence returning. ‘Nothing could ruin today, not even that.’

  * * *

  Despite the brave words, the rider on the road did serve as a warning to them both about the dangerous nature of their game. They stuck close to the cottage after that, venturing out only to the nearby meadows for long walks along deserted stretches of land, sometimes walking to the cliffs, watching the sea and talking, always talking, except for the days when all they wanted to do was kiss, to push the boundaries where pleasure and propriety might intermingle.

  The cottage became their sanctuary in the weeks that followed. They stamped the little interior with their presence. The faded cloth and tin plates were joined by a chipped vase of wildflowers on the table and a pan for boiling tea water. A pile of neatly stacked wood stood next to the fireplace, old mismatched cushions taken from the Prideaux attics made the chairs more comfortable and a clean, worn quilt covered the bed in the corner. This was a place where they could be themselves, where they could share their secrets—all secrets but one.

  Or perhaps two...

  * * *

  Cassian felt a change in her as April progressed. The tension in her grew apace with their passion, their interludes growing more heated, more intense. ‘You’re hiding something, Em? What is it? It’s no good denying it, it’s written on every inch of your body.’ They were lying on the bed, wrapped in each other’s arms, stripped down to their underthings in the warmth of the afternoon. It was as close to naked as he could afford to let them get. He didn’t dare more, knowing that the end was near. He’d not broken Redruth. He would have to go to London, but he’d put it off until the last minute. Did she guess? Was that the reason for her tension? He’d tasted desperation in her kiss.

  The bed ropes creaked as she lifted up on an elbow to look at him, her green eyes shadowed. ‘Do you remember when I said my father wanted me to marry?’ It was one subject they had expressly not revisited since the first time she’d mentioned it. ‘There’s a man he wants me to consider.’

  His only thought was that he wasn’t ready, never mind that she’d warned him weeks earlier. Somehow, he’d convinced himself he would be the one who’d have to walk away. The London Season and his chance to pursue his amusement garden loomed closer than ever on the calendar, forcing his hand. But it was her hand that was being forced now.

  ‘Will you consider him?’ Cassian’s words were hoarse even as he strove for neutrality. He was already jealous of this unknown man and yet this or something like it had always been unavoidable. He and Em weren’t meant to last.

  Her next words spilled out in an apologetic rush. ‘I’ll tell my father no, of course, that the man is too old.’ She bit her lip. ‘I just wanted to be honest. I thought you should know.’

  ‘What does he do?’ Cassian imagined a merchant perhaps of some means. Her father probably considered it a great opportunity to have his daughter wed a man already established in business. Cassian could offer her nothing, not simply because he was a viscount and she was a girl from an ordinary background, but also because he could only make her unhappy. There would be no joy for her in being a viscountess. She would be under scrutiny for ever, for every little thing she didn’t know, every rule she inadvertently broke or overlooked, every faux pas she made. There would be no pleasure for her in that. He would not ruin her that way. He wanted the Em who adored feeding seals, who lay with him beneath the sun in a rocking boat.

  ‘He grows flowers.’

  Ah, a gardener then, someone who might work at an estate or who might have some small patch of land of his own. ‘Is it a good match?’

  ‘Not for me.’ She smiled at him, her fingers touching his face as they lay close together. ‘I want something different. Something more than an older man who is dedicated to his roses.’

  ‘Can you refuse him?’ he asked. She’d said she would, but was that possible? Her father seemed a very determined man.

  ‘In truth, I don’t know. My father is very stubborn once he sets his mind to something.’ She gave a soft laugh that warmed him. ‘He’s like your reluctant gentleman. Perhaps they should meet.’ She sighed. ‘I don’t want to go, Matthew, but the afternoon has slipped away again.’

  ‘Come tomorrow? We’ll go down to the beach.’ Time was suddenly of the essence. There were a finite amount of tomorrows left between them.

  She shook her head. ‘I can’t. Tomorrow...’

  ‘...you go to see him, the man with the flowers,’ Cassian finished her sentence, something fierce and competitive taking up residence in his stomach. But what could he do? He was a man with a false name. He was powerless.

  She nodded. ‘I’ll come the day after.’ She drew a fingernail down his chest, her hand hitching at his belt, her lips hovering close to his. ‘And we’ll make love, promise me. I meant what I said that day on the boat. I want it to be you, no matter what.’ The desperation was back. She thought this was the end or very nearly so.

  Cassian swallowed. ‘Em, I don’t know if that’s wise.’

  She silenced him with a kiss. ‘You can’t say no. It will be my birthday. You have to oblige.’

  ‘Shall I bring you a present?’ he teased, a thought already coming to him, something she’d like beyond anything, aside from lovemaking.

  ‘If you like.’ She snuggled against him. ‘Do you know what I really want? I want to lie fully naked with you. I want to feel your hands, your mouth, on my skin. I want to put my hands on your skin, I want to know you, your body, your name, your real name.’

  Cassian pressed a kiss to the top of her head. ‘You can have all but the last.’ It was hard to refuse. How many times had he wanted the same? To throw caution to the wind and announce himself to her, to know who she was. But to do so would be akin to eating the app
le in the Garden. Once they knew who each other was, they’d be cast out of their little Eden. It was further proof that she thought this was ending. She thought names at the last couldn’t hurt them. She was wrong. Cassian rose from the bed and put on his breeches. ‘I think we need to keep this one secret, Em.’

  Chapter Ten

  ‘I know a secret.’ Phin was all smiles in the drawing room before dinner. It was just the two of them. Father hadn’t come down yet and there were no guests tonight, much to Pen’s relief. She didn’t think she could handle another night of feigned politeness.

  ‘What is it?’ A jolt of worry took her. Perhaps that was the secret? She scanned the room quickly, looking over her shoulder at the entrance for fear she might see a phalanx of gentlemen lining up for her attentions.

  Phin laughed as he read her thoughts. ‘Not more guests. It’s just the three of us tonight.’ His smile widened. ‘We’re celebrating your birthday early.’

  ‘Oh. That’s lovely.’ Pen knit her brows together. ‘Why? It’s just two days away.’

  ‘That’s the other surprise, the one I won’t tell you. Father would kill me for letting that particular cat out of the bag.’ Phin cocked his head, his gaze lingering, inspiring a different worry in Pen. Did he guess she was meeting someone? She smoothed her skirts and played with the fan in her lap. Surely, what she’d been up to with Matthew didn’t show in any way? She’d been careful to school her thoughts since the first night when Margery had caught her. ‘I thought you’d be more excited than that,’ Phin probed. ‘Two extra days of birthday presents are not to be sneered at, yet you seemed underwhelmed, Pen.’