Chapter Ten

It was late. The last guest had departed hours ago, the moon had waned, and most of the inhabitants of the great castle were asleep. Thea, however, couldn’t sleep. In her mind she kept going over the evening and reliving different incidents: Francis and Evadne; Mr. DeVilliers and the enmity between him and Jeremy; her own daring in wearing such a gown. She had felt different, freer. Now, though, the evening was over. She was simply herself again, Althea Jameson, a quiet widow. She felt flat, let-down, and also very lonely. For a few heady moments this evening she had thought Jeremy cared, until he had walked away.

At last she gave up on sleep, and, picking up her taper, left her room, not caring that she wore only her nightgown and wrapper, or that her feet were bare. No one would see her. She would go to the library and find something to read, and then return to her room. At least, that was her intention. As she came to the end of the corridor, though, her eye was caught by a massive oaken door, bound in iron, standing open. Within, lit by torches, was a winding stone staircase, looking medieval and romantic, apparently leading up into one of the castle’s towers. For a moment, the magic of the night returned. A tower in a castle. What could be more appropriate? Without stopping to question herself, Thea turned and began climbing the stairs. On such a night, anything might happen.

Jeremy couldn’t sleep, either. Restlessly he paced his room, still dressed, though he had discarded his coat and waistcoat. It had been an odd, unsettling evening, not the enjoyable social event he had anticipated. It had been rather a shock, discovering that his intended’s behavior was beginning to grate on his nerves. It was even more of a shock, however, that the person he kept thinking about, the one he couldn’t get out of his mind, was Thea. Thea, as she had looked in that remarkable gown, cut almost too low for modesty. Thea, teasing him about being jealous. Thea, so near, and yet so unattainable. It drove him to distraction, until, with an oath, he picked up his candle and left his room. He’d go for a walk, work off some of his energy, and perhaps then he’d be able to forget about Thea. Perhaps.

The door standing open to the tower made him stop, looking up the stairs. Unlike Thea, he’d noticed it before, though he’d never had the desire to explore further. The stairs were hollowed in the middle, as if worn by the steps of thousands of feet; the tower, made of stone blocks, was narrow. All that stone, pressing in upon him. But the lighted torches took away the darkness and made the heaviness bearable. Lured by a compulsion he didn’t understand, Jeremy turned and began to climb the stairs.

Light spilled out from another opened door, this one at the top of the stairs, the only room in the tower. Pausing for a moment on the landing, Jeremy glanced around, feeling again that oppressive sense of the walls closing in on him. Then, shaking it off, he stepped through the door, and stopped, momentarily speechless.

It was a room from an Oriental dream, and one that was obviously not intended for display to guests. The harsh stone walls were covered with silk hangings woven in exotic designs in every hue, creating a rainbow even in the darkest night. To his left, a brazier of brass and iron glowed with heat, while, underneath, a thick rug of Persian origin muffled his footsteps. Most startling of all, however, was the room’s main piece of furniture, across the floor from him. It was a huge divan, upholstered in crimson brocade, with silken cushions scattered upon it in great profusion. Next to the divan, staring at it with wide-eyed astonishment, was Thea.

Jeremy’s heart, which had returned to normal, began pounding again. She was the last person he had expected to see in such a place, and ordinarily he would have said she didn’t belong here, in this Oriental bower. Yet tonight, in her blue gown, he’d seen another side of her. A side he very much wished to know better. A side that did belong here. “Thea?”

Thea spun around, her hand to her heart. “Jeremy! Oh, you startled me.”

“My apologies, Thea. I didn’t know you were here.” He looked around the room. “What is this place?”

“I’m not sure. The door was open, and so I decided to see what was up here.” Her smile was shy. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“I couldn’t, either.” And here, standing before him was the reason why. She looked different than she had earlier; her nightgown and wrapper covered her completely, and her hair hung over her shoulder in a thick plait, not seductive at all. For all that, though, there was something very sweet and appealing about her as she stood before him, looking up at him almost shyly, one bare foot crossed over the other. “Rather a romantic idea, isn’t it? A hidden boudoir in a tower.”

Thea’s startled eyes met his. “Jeremy, do you think—”

“That we interrupted a tryst? I doubt it. There’s just the one set of stairs. We would have seen anyone who was here. But still.” He prowled around the room, studying the hangings, grinning down at the luxurious divan, and all the time coming closer, closer. “I can’t imagine what else this room is used for, can you? Or why it’s lighted?”

“Oh. Then I’ll go. If you’ll hand me my candle—”

“No, don’t.” He reached out and caught her arm. She stopped, very still, glanced at his hand and then raised her eyes to his face, looking at him searchingly. He returned the gaze, conscious of the warmth of her under his hand, slender and yet strong. “Thea.”

“Jeremy, I’d best go—”

“No. Not yet.” His hand loosened, but instead of releasing her it slid up her arm, ever so slowly, until it reached her shoulder. Thea swallowed, hard, and with his other hand he traced a line softly along her jaw. “Do you know, when I saw you at the ball, Thea, I felt I’d never seen you before,” he said, softly.

“Maybe you hadn’t,” she answered, just as softly, fighting the treacherous urge to lean against the fingers that were now stroking her cheek.

“Maybe. But now...”

“Now?” she prompted, when he didn’t go on.

“I’ve been blind. So blind.” His thumb brushed across her lips, and then his hand slipped down to hold her other shoulder. “And every kind of a fool.”

Thea watched, very still, as his face came closer. She should leave. She should, but something held her. It was the magic of the night, of this room. Her eyelids drifted closed as his arm slipped around her waist, his fingers tilted her face up. This was real, this was right. She raised her lips to his, and he was kissing her.

Something happened within Thea as Jeremy’s lips touched hers, something new to her. Her body went languid, her limbs weak, so that she had to cling to him, lest she fall. Her arms wrapped about his neck, her hand thrust into his hair, her body molded itself against him as the kiss lengthened and deepened. Never had she felt anything like this, this wanting, this need, and when his tongue probed against her lips in an unspoken command, they parted for him.

“Ah, Thea,” he gasped, abruptly breaking the kiss and hauling her close against him, his heart racing, his breathing ragged. “This is madness.”

“Sweet madness,” she whispered, raising her lips to his. He could not resist their invitation, and with a groan he bent his head to taste of them again.

“Sweet, so sweet,” he muttered against her lips, pressing quick, hard kisses on her cheeks, her brow, her eyes. She shifted against him, and his hand slipped down to untie the sash of her wrapper. And then he was touching her, his hand curved about her breast. Sensations she had never before felt came alive in her at his touch, emotions rioted within her. Her knees abruptly gave way and they sank together onto the divan. Thea let her head drop back as he bent to kiss her throat, luxuriating in the sweet sensations flooding through her. A man’s arms about her before had been a trap, but, held close to Jeremy, she felt safer than she had ever been.

The scents of the Orient that perfumed the room, jasmine, gardenia, plumeria, spicy and seductive, combined with the glowing warmth of the brazier and the jewel colors of the silks to make this a moment out of time, a place that existed only for them. A place that was as real and as right as the emotions each awoke in the other, and as exotic. Jeremy murmured to her as he pushed the wrapper from her shoulders and slowly unfastened the buttons of her gown, and, like a harem girl, she stretched sinuously under the caress of his hands. She was no longer Thea, but something more elemental, more basic. She was a woman in the arms of her lover, the taste of brandy on his tongue and the aroma of his cologne as compelling as any Oriental spice.

Jeremy tugged, and her nightgown slid down past her hips. For a moment sanity returned, and with it, doubts. This wasn’t like her, she shouldn’t be doing it, but then he kissed her again, and her doubts drowned in the rising tide of sensation. The silk brocade of the divan was deliciously cool under her heated flesh; Jeremy’s skin soft, supple, warm under her fingers. She gave herself to him as she had to no other. She winced at their joining, for it had been so long, but then he was with her, and it was magic. There was no pain—no pain!—only a giddy pleasure she could never have imagined and an urgency she had never before felt. Under the coaxing of his hands, strong and sure but gentle, she moved, smoothly and fluidly, with him in ways that were unfamiliar to her but that her body somehow knew, reaching for something just beyond her grasp. In the mad, magical moments when she spiraled out of herself, she became his, as she never had been anyone else’s; she became more fully herself, as she never before had been. And, as she slowly drifted back to earth, held safely in Jeremy’s arms, she knew, at last, what it meant to be loved.

Jeremy stirred, the muscles of his shoulder, cushioning her head, rippling slightly. She made a little sound of contentment and nuzzled against him, knowing she had finally found the place where she belonged. “Thea,” he said, his voice husky. “Did I hurt you?”

Her eyes still closed, she smiled. “No.”

“I didn’t mean that to happen.”

“Mm.” Neither had she, but it had, and she wasn’t sorry.

“I don’t want you to think that I followed you up here just for that. It’s just that, when I saw you here—Thea, I’ve wanted you for so long.”

She had wanted him, too. She could admit that, now. The woman she had been was only a facade for the Thea that had been hiding all this time. There was, indeed, fire inside her. “We were meant to be together. I think I’ve always known it.”

Beside her Jeremy shifted, and then rose, leaving her alone on the divan. Thea smiled to herself, her eyes closed, a voluptuous smile of satisfaction and contentment. She and Jeremy. Why had she not seen it before this? Of course it would be difficult for him to break his engagement. He was an honorable man, and that honor would not permit him to marry one woman while loving another. It had to be love that was between them. Never before had she felt like this. She suspected he hadn’t, either.

“I didn’t mean for it to happen,” he said again, his voice tight. Thea raised her arm from her eyes to see him standing across the room from her. He was dressed, but, even through the fine lawn of his shirt she could see that his muscles were bunched with strain. Abruptly she realized that she was lying in a most immodest pose. A moment ago it hadn’t mattered. Now it did, though she wasn’t sure why. Unease stirred within her as she pulled her nightshift on. “Jeremy?” she said, her voice sounding very young and uncertain, and he wheeled to face her.

“Damn!” He drove his fist into the palm of his hand. “If I had it to do over again!”

“You wouldn’t? Is that what you mean?”

“No, Thea, I didn’t say that.”

“No, you didn’t.” The unease tightened within Thea as she rose from the divan. Something was happening here she didn’t understand, and yet knew all too well. It was important she remain calm. The cool Thea, the Thea the world knew. “Jeremy, you didn’t exactly force me, you know.”

“I know, Thea, but don’t you see that that makes it worse?”

“Makes what worse, Jeremy?” she said, carefully. “We’ve found each other. What is so very bad about that?”

Jeremy faced her from across the room, a strange look on his face. It was as if he had tasted something he usually considered a treat, and found it bitter. “Thea, I don’t want to lose you.”

“I wasn’t aware I was yours to lose,” she said tartly, finally annoyed with his careful choice of words and the way he avoided her eyes.

“But you are.” His eyes bored into hers, looking deep into her soul, connecting them again as inexorably as they had been joined just a moment before. “Aren’t you?”

She wavered, glancing toward the door, and then gave in. “Yes,” she said in a rush, overwhelmed by the feelings that flooded her. “Yes, Jeremy, I—” She clutched at his shoulders as he crossed the room in several long strides and caught her up against him. “Yes, I’m yours, I’ll always be yours—”

“Thea.” His voice was a groan as he kissed her, her eyelids, her cheeks, her mouth. “You won’t regret this, darling. I promise.”

“No,” she murmured, holding to him, feeling at last alive and safe, giddy with joy. “No, I won’t.”

“I’ll take care of you. You’ll be my wife in every way that matters.”

The room was suddenly very cold. Thea’s hands went still, and her eyes opened, no longer drugged by love and dreams. It wasn’t forever he was offering her, it wasn’t the honorable choice, but something that appalled her to her soul. “Jeremy.” She looked up at him, though his arms were still around her. “You’d do that to Evadne?”

Jeremy made an angry little gesture with his hand. “She doesn’t matter. I’m honor-bound to marry her, but—”

“But what does your honor owe me, Jeremy? Or yourself?” With a little tug she pulled away from him. “According to honor, I should be your wife.”

“Thea.” He strove to sound reasonable. “You’ve been married already, and—”

Her eyes flashed with the fire that she had found did blaze inside her. “And what? Do you think that means I’ll accept any offer you make me? No, Jeremy. No.” She wrapped her arms around herself, to ward off the chill that had overtaken her. “I will not be your mistress.”

“It’s all right, darling.” He brushed a feather-light kiss on her nape, left defenseless by her bent head. “No one will know.”

“I’ll know. And I cannot do it.” She whirled to face him. “Listen to me, Jeremy. My husband kept mistresses, from the beginning of our marriage. Do you have any idea what that did to me? I died a little inside each time he went to someone else. And when he died, it was fighting for the honor of another woman. Not me.” Her eyes were huge and dark with remembered pain. “I swore, Jeremy, that I would never put another woman in that position. I value myself too highly.”

“Thea.” He reached out to grip her shoulders, and let his hands drop when she stiffened. “I don’t love Evadne. She doesn’t love me. This is the way things are in our world.”

She shook her head. “Not for me, Jeremy.”

“I can’t offer you marriage, Thea,” he said, his eyes steady on her.

“And you wouldn’t if you could. Don’t deny it, Jeremy, I know I’m not what you want in a bride. You want someone young, someone you can mold to your liking. Well, good luck to you,” she said, bitterly. “Evadne will fight you every step of the way.” She bent and picked up her discarded wrapper, thrusting her arms into it, her movements jerky. “I must have been mad, to stay here with you.”

“Damn.” Jeremy thrust a hand into his hair. “Thea, I mean no harm to you.”

She wouldn’t look at him. “I know.”

“Thea. Don’t go,” he urged, and she paused by the door, her head slightly turned. “I know this isn’t what you want, but it’s the best I can offer you. Stay with me. Let me love you. I promise you won’t regret it, I promise no harm will come to you.” He paused. “Stay.”

Thea squeezed her eyes shut. She wanted to. Oh, how she wanted to. “I can’t.” She reached for the doorknob. “I’ll be leaving for Linwood tomorrow.”

“Thea. What if there’s a child?”

Thea’s shoulders stiffened, and her head rose. “I’m barren,” she snapped, and whisked out the door, leaving Jeremy to stare after her in shock.

 

The house party was over. With many regrets and words of gratitude, the guests departed, some to return to London, to attend the wedding of Princess Charlotte, others to go to their homes. Mrs. Jameson and her brother had gone yesterday; everyone else was leaving today. Guests and hosts alike heaved a tremendous sigh of relief. It had been a pleasant time, but all were glad it was over. There had been some ticklish moments, the duchess reflected as the door closed behind the last guest, and some entertaining ones, as she had hoped when she had planned her guest list. Perhaps a bit too entertaining, considering some of the incidents. Thank heavens the party had ended without anyone being killed.

Jeremy rode his horse alongside the Powells’ traveling carriage, lost in thought. It was high time he made more of an effort with Evadne, instead of leaving her to her own devices. It might be the way of most ton marriages, but it was not, he had found with some surprise, what he wanted for himself. He wanted at least companionship with his wife. To that end, he had invited the Powells to stay at Moulton Hall, his home on the Kent coast. There, without other people around to act as a distraction, he would have the chance to get to know Evadne, and she to know him. She would be acquainted with his home beforehand, and with his daughter. At last he was giving Gillian a mother.

They had been on the road for two days, and now were nearing Moulton. Jeremy should have been happy, but he wasn’t. He had lost Thea. Lord, he’d made a mull of it, and all because when, he had most needed to, he hadn’t controlled himself. Women were easily available to a man who was passably good-looking, passably charming. Friends that one could trust, though, were in lamentably short supply. He had never realized how much he had come to depend on Thea, until he had lost her.

Not for the first time, he reviewed all that had happened in the bizarre tower room at Rochester Castle. At the time it had seemed right, so right, as nothing in his life ever had before. Never had he known such closeness with another; never before had he wanted a woman so much, but not just physically. He wanted more with Thea, he wanted to possess her, to know her; and, at the same time, take care of her. It could have been so good, so right, if she had only relaxed her scruples.

And yet- And yet, for a moment when he thought she had done just that, when he was astonished that she had given herself to him without marriage and seemed to be giving into his wishes, he had felt a strange mixture of emotions. Happiness, of course, and triumph, too, but mixed with them had been disappointment, surely an odd thing to feel when he had won what he desired. Disappointed he had felt, though, in her, and in himself as well, though that was harder to admit. Disappointment that she would so easily give up her principles; disappointment, that their relationship would never have the bond, or the blessing, of marriage.

Perhaps then it wasn’t so strange that he’d felt almost relieved when she had refused his offer to take care of her. No one would care if she carried on a liaison with him, so long as it were discreet. He didn’t think even Evadne would mind. He would, though. It wasn’t what he wanted. And Thea had every right to live her life as she chose. He had no right to force her to something she didn’t want. Like it or not, she’d made the right decision.

Life was back to normal, then, or almost normal. For, try though he might, he couldn’t help seeing himself just a little differently, and he didn’t like what he saw, a man who saw to his own pleasure without regard for others’ feelings. And, try though he might, he knew he could never again regard Thea as simply a friend. What had happened between them was too special. It changed everything.

Shifting uneasily in the saddle, he turned to look at the carriages following behind him. He would have to make do with Evadne, though he could not imagine experiencing the same rapture with her that he had felt with Thea. He could not imagine wanting her in the same way. But then, she would be his wife. One didn’t feel that way about a wife. It wouldn’t be proper. One found that kind of satisfaction elsewhere. At least, he had. Now, however, he recoiled from that idea almost as much as he had from the thought of turning to Evadne. It was Thea he wanted, and it was Thea he could not have.

A breeze came to him, bringing with it a special tang that made him lift his head sharply. The sea. They were near home. Something within him quickened at the thought of being home, close to the sea again, and he rode a little ahead of the carriage, to the top of the hill. There, below him and to his right, was Moulton Hall, only its chimneys visible. Beyond lay the Straits of Dover, deceptively blue and peaceful-looking on this clear day. Home. Jeremy gazed at it a moment longer before spurring Lightning forward. He was home, and nothing would ever again be the same.

 

“Whoa, boy.” The rider pulled the horse to a stop at the crest of the hill and surveyed the view below. Clouds sent dappled shadows over the old, half-timbered manor house, the paddocks where mares and foals roamed and played, the hayfields rippling in the breeze. The horse nickered as if in appreciation, and the rider leaned over to pat his neck, settling long legs clad in breeches and boots more firmly in the stirrups. “Yes, boy, home,” Thea said, softly, and flicked the reins. Obediently the horse set off down the hill.

The horse was heading for home and food; Thea was heading for peace, and she felt it settle upon her as she descended into the valley. After the fiasco at Rochester Castle, she had had only one thought, to come home, where she would be safe. Thea had come to regret her choice of husband during the years of her marriage, but for one thing she would always be grateful. Hugh had left her Linwood.

At the stables she dismounted, handing the reins to Michael Keenan, her head groom and manager when she could not be on the estate. “You’ve trained him well,” she said, lightly slapping the horse’s flanks. “Though I don’t think we’ll try him at Newmarket.”

“No, sure and he’ll never win any races,” Keenan said, leading the horse away, “but he’ll do for hacking around.”

Thea nodded agreement and turned away, going into the office where Francis was bent over the stud book, concentrating on the entries. Already he was looking better, without the long nights of gambling and carousing to take their toll on him. They spoke a little bit about the stud’s operation, and then Thea walked back to the house, tapping her riding crop lightly against her boots. Her hair, held back only by a ribbon, swung back and forth. On the surface, her life was all she could wish. Underneath, however, was quite another story.

Stepping into her study, which she used as an office, she sat at the large mahogany partners’ desk to deal with the correspondence that came with operating a successful stud farm. In the act of slitting open an envelope, though, she set down the pen knife and put her head in her hands. The peace she usually found at Linwood was missing this time, and not because the farm itself had changed. It was what was in her that cut up her peace, the memory of those mad moments with Jeremy that tormented her endlessly. In returning home, she had thought to outrun her demons, but with no success. They hadn’t followed her here; she had brought them with her.

They tormented her, those demons, when she lay awake and vulnerable late into the night. They reminded her ceaselessly of Jeremy’s voice, his caressing hands, the splendor and the rapture of being one with him. They told her that what had happened was rare and precious, and that she shouldn’t have given it up. Nothing mattered but the two of them, and the world was well lost.

Other demons would chime in at that point. The trouble was, there were more involved than just she and Jeremy. There was the world she lived in, which delighted in scandal and would think nothing of discussing her reputation, which would be in tatters. More importantly, though, there was Evadne. Thea could understand, in a way, why Jeremy had acted as he had. He was a man, with a willing woman. A very willing woman. Thea could not deny that she’d been that. Very few men would ignore such an opportunity, especially a man who had gained a reputation for himself as a rake. Nor did he love Evadne. The fact remained, though, that he was promised to her, and, in spite of it, Thea had let him make love to her. No, she thought, brutally honest. She had encouraged it. She, who knew too well the pain of living with an unfaithful husband, who had sworn she would never put another woman in the position she had found herself in, had done that very thing. Her conscience would not let her forget what she had done, or that it was wrong, no matter how right it had seemed. Of all the demons she faced, that one was the worst.

There was one other demon, though, that was nearly as bad, and that was the memory of Jeremy, telling her that he would still marry Evadne. That hurt. Oh, it hurt. For the first time she forced herself to face that fact, fully. Jeremy would take another woman to wife. Another woman would run his home, bear his children, be his companion into old age. Not her. All her fine, high-flown ideas about saving him from Evadne had been just that, ideas. She had no real desire to save him, unless it were for herself. She was, as he had once accused her, very jealous indeed.

Thea raised her head and stared ahead of her, unseeingly. There was nothing she could do, nothing. In the hours after their encounter she had paced her room, determining at one moment that she had done the right thing, deciding in the next that she hadn’t. She wanted him so. She wanted to be with him, on any terms he offered. No matter the consequences; even if it meant the loss of her self-respect.

And that, at last, was what had stopped her. It was the only thing now that kept her sane, in spite of all the demons. It would be the veriest bliss to be with him, but eventually it would destroy her. Eventually he would tire of her, and seek another mistress. She could not bear it. She had worked too hard, too long, to become herself, to like and respect herself again, after her husband’s death, to throw it away so easily. If she had nothing else, she would have herself.

Except that she was not quite the person she’d thought. She’d made a bad mistake, and the consequences were bitter. She’d lost Jeremy; she’d lost her comfortable view of herself. She was not the cool widow she’d thought, nor was she so upright and moral as she’d once believed. It was a hard lesson to learn. How she was going to live with this new knowledge of herself, she didn’t know.

Wearily Thea picked up the penknife again and began to open her letters. Life went on, and she supposed she would survive. It would, however, be hard. Very hard.