And cried out.
And shattered into... Not into a million pieces as she had expected, but into that nameless something for which she had yearned. Something that was sweet and quiet and so... But the word would not come, and really, did it matter? Some things just simplywere.She wrapped an arm about his shoulders and ran her fingers into his hair. And deep inside her she felt the hot gush of his release.
—
It had not felt like enjoyment at all. It had left him feeling closer to tears than he had been since... when? He could not remember a time. Though yes, he could. When he had been sayinggoodbye to Stephanie and Owen and Philippa. And then Gwyneth. On the last Sunday in July six years ago. When he had still been human—and a virgin.
In all the time since then he had associated sex with pleasure and relaxation and... comfort.Not, damn it all to hell, with tears and a soreness in his chest and a strong urge to run away. From everyone and everything until there was no farther to run. Except... Ah, except that he could not run from the one person he most wished to escape. He could not run from himself.
Or from Gwyneth either.
There will be no way back if we make love now. Not for either of us,he had told her earlier. They had made love. Or had sexual relations, anyway. There was no way back. Not for her. Not for him.
They dressed in silence, their backs to each other. He waited for her to retrieve enough hairpins from the floor to pin up her hair relatively neatly. He pulled back the curtains. And then they were walking side by side back along the alley. The air felt chill and welcome after the warmth of the summerhouse.
“What did you say?” he asked her, though he was not sure he wanted to know.
“Say?”
“It sounded like Welsh,” he said.
“Oh,” she said. “It was nothing.”
He looked sidelong at her. Gwyneth. Heknewher now. He knew the feel of her, skin to skin, the heat of her, the taste and smell of her. And she was his, for the rest of their lives. He still could not remember why, since he needed a wife and the sooner the better, he had decided his wife would definitely not be Gwyneth Rhys. Perhaps because he would be hers for the rest of their lives, and that would be no bargain for her.
“It wasrwy’n dy garu di,” she told him.
He waited.
“I love you,”she said. “That is the translation.”
There were a few clouds overhead. Were they going to lose the sunshine?
“The thing is, Devlin,” she said, “that I meant it then, though I did not know I was going to say it aloud, and I mean it now. And I am not going to pretend to stop feeling it or living it just because you cannot. I will try not to say it too often, because that will annoy you, just as it would annoy me if you were to keep on telling me that you cannot love me. You promised a partnership. Let us be partners, then, working together for the good of both of us, but separate persons, entitled to our own thoughts and feelings and inclinations.”
“That,” he said, “sounds fair enough.”
... but separate persons.
“But faithful to each other,” he said.
“Yes,” she said. “Of course.”
“Of course,”he said softly. “But what would you do if I ever were unfaithful, Gwyneth? Would you turn a blind eye, provided I was discreet about it?”
“No,” she said. “I would make a fuss. A very noisy and very public one. I would shout it from the rooftops.”
“And leave me?” They had stopped walking and turned toward each other. Her head was thrown back and her eyes were flashing. “With our children?”
“Think again,” she said. “Ravenswood is to be my home. It will be my children’s home.Youwould be the one to leave, my lord Stratton. I would toss all your clothes and personal belongings out onto the lawn. I hope it would be raining in a great downpour.”
He felt closer to laughter than he had felt since he did not know when. There was a gleam of answering laughter in her eyes.
But it was not funny. Very few women reacted as Gwyneth said she would. His mother had not. And, according to his mother, women were brought up to endure, to put personal dignity and unquestioning loyalty to their men above all else.
“I will not be a comfortable wife, Devlin,” she said.
“Alas,” he said, “your warning has come too late.”
