“Tristan?”
“Emma?” Tristan fell back on his heels and relaxed his grip on his dagger.
She opened the door wider and he finally saw her slim outline. She looked like a ghost, standing there in her white nightgown, her nearly white hair draped over her shoulders.
“What’s wrong?” he asked. “Are you ill?”
“No. Nothing like that.” She stood with her hands folded in front of her, looking down at her feet.
“Let me stoke the fire. It’s freezing in here.”
“You don’t have to.”
But he did have to. Something wasn’t right, and they were both shivering in the cold so he stoked the fire. Besides, he could see her better with the additional light.
He swept a blanket off his bed and held it out to her. She hesitated before wrapping it around her shoulders.
It was a small bedchamber with nowhere to sit except the bed but he didn’t offer that.
“What’s wrong?” he asked again.
She looked down at her toes then up at him, raising her chin a notch higher than was necessary. “I want us to…make love.”
He reached out to grab the mantel and blinked a few times.
“Pardon me?”
Her gaze flitted away but came back to his, more determined. “I want to make love to you.”
“Well that’s certainly…I’m flattered…” He was desperately searching for words, while his body was already anticipating sliding into her. But that was wrong and his brain was trying to control his body’s natural reaction. He was fairly certain that Emma did not want to make love to him. He didn’t know what brought this on but he was sure making love wasn’t the answer.
She approached. “Seeing Lord Darnley’s body today did something to me,” she said. “It was shocking and horrifying and sad all at the same time. Regardless of what he did or didn’t do to the queen, or what kind of life he led, he was a young man in his prime who went to bed one night and didn’t awaken in the morning.”
Ah, now he saw the genesis of her request.
“Emma—”
She held up her hand, silencing him.
“It took a lot of courage for me to walk in here and it’s taking a lot more not to turn away and run back to my room.”
He pressed his lips together and nodded even though he had a thousand things he wanted to say and an overriding need to hug her.
“I know you probably think I’m being silly. Some people might say that Darnley deserved his fate or that we shouldn’t be surprised that an enemy finally got to him and maybe they might be right. I’m learning to rethink a lot of long-held beliefs, but that’s not why I’m here making a fool of myself.”
“You’ll never make a fool of yourself.”
She waved a hand in the air while the other hand desperately clutched the blanket to her chest. If she wanted to make love to him then she was holding that blanket like a soldier’s shield in battle.
“The fact is that none of us know when our last day will be on this earth. Tomorrow is never guaranteed. I’ve lived all my adult life in fear of men. Angus was…Well, he was not a nice man and he taught me that making love is degrading and painful. I’ve heard that it doesn’t have to be that way and if this were my last night on earth then I’d want to spend it with you learning that lovemaking can actually be beautiful.”
God’s blood. She had no idea what she was saying, what kind of pressure that put on him. More than anything he wanted to make love to her, to teach her that men could be gentle and kind, but he didn’t think he was the man for that.
“Have you thought this through?”
She took a deep breath and held it for a moment before expelling it. “No.”
Now he was deeply confused and deeply aroused. Not a good combination. “This is not something that can be done on the spur of the moment.”
“Yes, it can.”
“Emma—”
“I can’t think about it. If I think then I will cower and I want to do this. Right now.”
“You might change your mind if you’d give it a bit of time—”
“That’s the point. I don’t want to give it time. I’ll lose my courage if I think overlong on this.”
“Courage? Making love is not about courage.”
She took a step toward him. “But it is all about courage. It’s about trusting the other person to be kind and gentle and loving. It’s nothing but courage and I’m feeling courageous right now. If I think about doing this it will open the door for Angus’s memories to step through and I don’t want that.”
“This is feeling rushed.” Her speech on courage had him hesitating. He’d never quite thought about making love to a woman in those terms but, damn, she was right. Now he was thinking too much but one of them had to have a steady mind.
“Please, Tristan.”
“I just think that this is something we lead up to. Maybe kissing some more…”
She was shaking her head. “I don’t want to wait. I want to do this now. I want to know that I can…be with a man the way other women can be with a man.”
So this had less to do with making love to him and more to do with Emma seeing that she could be with a man. Oddly, he wasn’t hurt by this revelation. Rather he was humbled that she chose him for her experiment.
“How do you know I can be kind and gentle?”
“You picked me up off the street without knowing who I was and you nursed me back to health. You let me return here when I decided not to return home. You never questioned my motives. You just accepted me as I am. You are a good man, Tristan Fitzherbert. I know it in my bones.”
“Maybe you should question my motives,” he said, feeling the weight of his guilt resting on his shoulders. He’d not done any of that out of the kindness of his heart. Well, maybe at first, but once he realized who she was he knew she would be a valuable tool for his work.
“What motives do you have, Tristan?”
“Many.”
She shrugged. “I don’t care. They are none of my concern.”
“You just want to use me for my body?” He grinned but his body, already hard and tight, felt like the skin was going to rip open under the strain of wanting her.
“I want you to teach me how it really should be.”
“Are you sure you want this, Emma?” He tilted his head toward the blanket still wrapped securely around her. “Because your body is telling me something different.”
She hesitated. “I’ll admit I’m frightened.”
“Then maybe we shouldn’t—”
“But I’m not going to let fear stop me.”
He managed to bite back his groan. “Maybe you should.”
She shook her head and after a moment’s hesitation Tristan held his hand out to her. She looked at it for what seemed like the longest time before her own came out from beneath the blanket and she put it in his. He curled his fingers around her cold fingers and slowly drew her toward him.
He would have to take this slow. Painfully slow. And he wasn’t even sure that would be slow enough. She might balk. She might change her mind. She might run from the room. Whatever she did he would have to accept.
“You’re in charge here,” he said. “If you want to stop, just say so. If you feel that you need to leave and never come back, then leave and never come back. I will not hold you responsible for anything.”
She nodded, her eyes big and blue and terrified. He’d never bedded a terrified woman before and frankly he was terrified as well.
“It’s not that bad, Emma. In fact, most people think it’s wonderful.”
“I’ve never known it to be wonderful. My mother…” She swallowed but drew her shoulders back. “My mother explained it to me but it was nothing like she explained. Angus…He came in and…He didn’t even prepare me for anything. Just raised my gown and…” Tears were swimming in her eyes and a look of horror was etched on her face.
“Shhh.” Tristan put a finger to her lips. “We’ll never speak of Angus in this room. Understand? He’s not part of this.”
“But he is,” she said. “His shadow is everywhere and that’s what I want to banish.”
“Then we’ll banish Angus’s shadow.”
Tristan gently pried the blanket from her other hand. She held tight for a moment before releasing her hold on it reluctantly. It was going to take all of his willpower to ignore his own body’s needs but he would do it. It would be the greatest achievement of his life but he would do it. For Emma.
He was holding both of her trembling hands and the trembles traveled up her arms and shook her body.
“What if we get into bed?”
Immediately her gaze went to the big, four-poster bed behind him and her head jerked in what he assumed was a nod. He helped her climb into the bed then climbed in on his side.
She was lying on her back, rigid, her arms at her sides, staring at the canopy.
Tristan pulled the blankets up and rolled to his side, propping his head on his hand. “I’m not going to ravish you right away.”
She looked at him out of the corner of her eyes. “You’re not?”
“This might take some time but by God I’m going to make you relax before I touch you.”
That seemed to have the opposite effect. She seemed to go even more rigid, as if she wanted to get this over with quickly.
“Making love takes a long time,” he said.
She closed her eyes and looked pained.
“But it’s also mutual. Lovemaking is not for one person’s benefit. It’s for both participants and it’s meant to bring them closer together, not drive them farther apart.”
“It’s for the man’s pleasure,” she said as if she were reciting something she’d been forced to memorize.
“Wrong. It’s for the man’s and the woman’s pleasure.”
“The girls…” She licked her lips and Tristan kept silent because he sensed she was relaxing. Just a wee bit, but it was encouraging. “The girls at the palace, they all look up to me because I’ve been there the longest and because I’ve been married before. They think I have all the answers, that I’m wise. When really I’m just as naïve as they are. I feel…I feel like a fraud.”
“You’re not a fraud and you are wise. You know what men can do. You’ve seen the ugly side and you’ve survived. That’s wise.”
She turned her head to look at him fully and he felt a surge of victory. “Do you think so?”
“I think anyone who looks evil in the face and walks away is someone to be admired. Don’t feel bad that they admire you. You’re a good role model and I’m sure you look at them as your children and you guide them appropriately.”
“Not children so much as sisters. Some of them know about Angus. The ones I trust.”
“I’m glad you’re not carrying that burden alone.”
Her shoulders relaxed, and Tristan wanted to pump his fists in the air. His body was cooling down as they talked, and he was much more comfortable. Besides, she was warming his bed and he remembered how nice it was to just share a bed with someone.
“What about you?” she asked. “Do you ever want to remarry?”
A frisson of alarm shot through him. Good Lord, she didn’t want them to get married, did she?
Emma laughed. “The expression on your face is funny. Please don’t think I’m trying to trap you into marriage. The last thing I want is another husband.”
He grinned and noticed that her hands weren’t clenched into fists anymore and she’d folded them over her stomach.
“The thought entered my mind.”
“So you don’t want another wife?”
“One was enough. Annabelle was wonderful but my life does not lend itself to marriage.”
“Your life?” She frowned in confusion and he realized his error. He was so relaxed with her that he’d forgotten his role as the printer.
“My life at the time. I was busy with other things and not home very often.”
“What other things kept you away from home?”
Damn, damn, damn. A terrible slip of the tongue and now he was caught in a lie. He was always careful with his words but Emma caught him in a weak moment.
“I worked for the English court for a time,” he said. “As a messenger. It took me out of the country frequently.”
“You were a messenger for the court and you left that to become a printer in Scotland?”
His stomach was twisting and he was piling lie upon lie and not digging himself out of the hole he’d created.
“I was a messenger for a very short time and discovered it was not an ideal situation for me. I think I felt guilty for being away from Annabelle and guilty that she had to die alone because I was at the whim of someone else. I left it all behind. England was too painful after that, and Scotland seemed like a good place to land for a bit.”
Her brows remained furrowed and he could see her thinking, sorting it all out. There was some truth mixed with all the lies. He did feel guilty for always being away from Annabelle. Maybe if he had been home more they would have grown closer. Maybe he would have even fallen in love with her and they could have had children. Maybe she wouldn’t have fallen ill if he had been home.
“That’s terrible,” she said. “You should go back home. Annabelle would have wanted you to.”
“There’s no call for a printer where I come from. It’s best that I’m in a bigger city. Besides, I like Edinburgh and you should be glad I am here for who else would have carried you to safety?”
She grinned and he breathed a sigh of relief that he’d escaped that particular trap. “Indeed. I’m eternally grateful you were there. And I’m grateful that you are willing to be here tonight.”
Their smiles died and the enormity of what they were about to do came crashing back to them. Making love was not usually such a serious thing for Tristan. He’d made love to many women over the years, and it had always been a mutual coming together with no expectations of a future. Except with Annabelle. That had been done the right and proper way with a wedding and an awkward, uncomfortable wedding night.
But this was so very different than any other time. The pressure was big, the expectations even bigger, and he prayed to God that he could live up to it.