I want him to kiss me.
The thought came from nowhere. Yet she felt no shame. Leaning closer to him, she inhaled the scent of him again, hearing him draw in a breath through his teeth. She pulled back, rattled and embarrassed.What was she doing? What was she thinking?
“You have a fine face,” she finally said.A fine face?How inadequate. “What I mean is, your face is strong, and... handsome.” She said, trying fruitlessly to repair her blunder and blushing to her toes. She kept making slipups, and no matter how she tried to check herself, the words flew from her mouth unimpeded.
The two of them stepped back from each other—him holding onto the cane and she rigid, unable to breathe. She dared not speak.
“My sincere apologies, Bethany. I have never spoken thus to a woman, and I have overstepped myself with someone providing me with shelter and aid.” His accent was thick. “I apologize for my forwardness. I should never have asked that of you.”
In for a penny, in for a pound. “Matthew, there is no need.” She swallowed. “I wanted to touch your face, but I cannot explain why.” Bethany wanted this moment to never end, but it must. A smile brightened her face. “I had an idea, watching you with the cane. There might be something you can do to help me with my chores.”
“You are not upset with me,yet.” His chest heaved a sigh. “However, I want to kiss you.May I?”
Bethany had never experienced a kiss. She had been living alone with her family. In her eighteen years, she had never gone to a dance, never even drawn a serious glance from a man, all because of the war. Shewantedto kiss this man.What could it hurt? It would just be one kiss.
“Yes,” she said in a whisper. “I would like that.”
He inclined toward her, taking his one free arm and pulling her closer. Slanting his face, he leaned down, brushing against the top of her forehead as his lips met hers. He feathered her lips with his before kissing her, teasing her lips gently with his tongue. She opened her lips in wonder, and his tongue probed the cavity of her mouth. Warm, gentle, he moved his tongue about her own. She yielded to his kiss and drew closer, placing her arms about his face. Her body knew what it wanted. And it was this man, this kiss, this moment. She fingered the curls at the back of his neck as her breathing picked up. She could hear his breath pulsing against her face. Slowly, she pushed back, breaking the kiss.
They both stood there, chests heaving in frustration, looking at each other. “I should not have done that,” he started.
“Shhh!” She placed her finger across his lips. “I know we should forget that happened. I can never overlook it, though. Any kiss I receive the rest of my life will be found lacking against the memory of that one.”
Chapter Six
What just happened?Matthew closed his eyes and summoned all the strength he could. While his sight had left him, his other senses had not failed him. They seemed to have heightened. He could not see, yet through his hands, he had seen her. There was no experience in his life to compare this to. The touch and feel of her affected him. Her voice affected him. It was an experience unto itself. He wanted to see the silky hair that entwined his fingers, the perfectly shaped brows, aquiline nose, and bow-shaped lips that summoned to mind a gentle beauty he wanted to caress.
At times he thought he saw slight and shadowed shapes, but it was momentary. He remained quiet about it, unwilling to build her hopes or his own. The only thing that seemed consistent was his ability to differentiate between light and dark. He had not yet resigned himself to being blind—although, he had nothing upon which to base his hope except for a gut feeling he would see again. Finding his way home blind would be more difficult than he could contemplate. As soon as he could see, he would head for home. He needed to. Matthew had never been a despoiler of innocents. He resolved to forget the feel of her skin beneath his fingers and the kiss of her lips. A voice in his head laughed at him. It could never happen.
Several uncomfortable moments of silence passed between them, both trying to reconcile what had happened. “Perhaps I should lay down for a little while. I feel a bit spent,” he finally said.
“Yes, that could be best,” she responded, her voice betraying her anxiety. “Let me help you to the room.”
“No. I must get used to being blind. This may not be temporary, and I need to adjust.” His voice sounded short, even to himself.I am not upset with her. I am upset with myself. He had created this situation when he had asked to touch her. Then, he had asked to kiss her.What the Hell was I thinking?
You were thinking that you wanted to kiss her, he replied to himself.
He had to figure out this muddle. Pain shot through his side, reminding him that he was not in a good place, health-wise. He needed no reminder.I cannot see, for God’s sake, he seethed within.Hell, I cannot sleep without dreaming of the battle. When it was proper time to be awake, I need help to get around, or else I am confined to a bed. What would my friends think of this mess?
As if summoned, a voice rang through his head.Matthew, you can do this. You know it is just a matter of time before things improve. You cannot let this get the better of you.Evan Clarendon’s voice resonated in his mind.Chin up. We will sort this out, Matthew.
Matthew, you are not dead. I say that would be the worst. You have possibilities. You have to get well, and then you can examine them. Evan’s voice gave way to Lucas’ voice—he had been the voice of reason.
“I cannot see, men,” he murmured.I cannot see to get home. There must be a way, he thought.I cannot stay here alone, he reasoned.I will have to go to the colony.A leper colony.
He had never known a person with leprosy, and knew very little about the disease. However, there had been stories. Yet Bethany said her grandmother and aunt were healers. What kind of healers?
“What kind of healers?” he questioned.
“I heard you say something, but could not make it out. What did you ask?” she probed.
Bethany’s startled voice came from behind him. He had not noticed she had followed him to the bedroom. He was losing his edge—the edge that had saved him.
That doesn’t have to be the way of it.Think, man. You have never been one to throw up your hands in defeat at even a game of cards. Remember who you are, man! You are the Viscount of Excess! You have always had more than you needed... believe in yourself.Christopher’s pleading voice rang through his head. He was right.
Matthew had been called this because he always had an ace up his sleeve when it was thought there was no more help or resources. Trouble came, but he always found the way out of it. It had been his idea to steal the bullies’ clothing at the lakeside, but not before he had spied a place hidden from view. As it happened—he knew it had been luck—they had found an unused footpath that had taken them back to the hall quicker than they had imagined. They were able to nonchalantly remove themselves to safety and lock the entrances without being seen.
God, he missed his friends. Nothing was impossible when they were together.
