Rebecca smiled, and squeezed his hand.
‘Never spoke of any of them. Still,’ he whispered. ‘There is a void in me, one I fear will never be filled.’
‘In time, when you are ready. The loss will never leave you, but you will live with a full heart again.’
‘In time,’ he said pensively, his eyes roaming her face. ‘Perhaps.’
Perhaps we will both live with a full heart again.
For a brief moment Rebecca’s mind conjured an image of them here together, at Thornhallow, quiet peace in their hearts, and laughter in the air on a bright summer’s day. It was a strangely vivid daydream, so vivid it seemed a vision of the future.
An impossible future.
And just like that, reality once again swept over her.
Liam saw the longing and the regret come into her eyes, matching his own. He bent down and kissed her, with gratitude and affection, to make her forget, to allow them both to forget the world they lived in.
And then he took her again, lost himself in her embrace so deeply it felt as though her essence was seeping into him, healing him, her entire being a balm for his broken soul. He found himself within her then, himself who he’d thought lost forever.
Not that he would admit it to himself once they lay together later, sated yet again, Rebecca peacefully asleep in his arms. It was a trick of the mind, of the body. Bliss, pleasure, played tricks on one’s rationality. Yes, he had found a pleasure with Rebecca that he had never before with any woman. Yes, he had revealed parts of himself to her that he’d thought he never could. Yes, he enjoyed her company, her mind, her friendship.
But that was all it was.
Two lost souls, finding solace together in this dark winter night.
Their attraction had been undeniable,inevitable, given their living situation. He would not make this out to be anything more than it was. He could not.
For here, in this room, in the dead of night, time might stop, the world might fade away, but it would not be so in the cold light of day.
Chapter Eighteen
The week that followed was surreal, a lost moment in time. Not just because of the nights she spent with Liam, when they lost themselves in each other. Nights, when not only their bodies met, but also their minds. When they spoke for hours of books, philosophy, politics...even sometimes the estate. She amused him with tales of her old masters, and he her with his boyhood pranks. In the firelight, in those short hours they spent together, they became friends, lovers and equals.
Though it did not escape her notice that neither seemed ready to fling open wide the doors to their souls again. To discuss things whichtrulymattered.
The house itself was quiet. A strange sort of normality resumed after Epiphany, a return to chores and work, albeit a slow return. Everyone was in high spirits, brought together by the celebrations. It was as if they’d come to accept that they were family, and that, for a time any social conventions which separated and dictated their lives, could be cast aside. Though they all knew, soon this extraordinary time would come to an end.
Rebecca was perhaps the most acutely aware of the impending return to life as it should be. Every night, as she left Liam’s room, she said a silent prayer, thanking whatever powers above for another day, another moment at Thornhallow.
That first night, standing in the cold darkness of the corridor, Rebecca had nearly been overwhelmed by a sudden awareness of what she’d just done. The dread, the fear of what might come next, had crept up on her as the sun had crept towards the horizon and she’d listened intently for any trace of the others.
But then, it had all seemed...inevitable. So perfectlyright.
The realisation she’d come to in Liam’s embrace—that she had fallen in love with him—tormented her. Though it hadn’t prevented her from returning to him, however aware she was of dooming herself to more suffering.
By allowing herself to give in to temptation, she’d condemned herself to heartbreak, and a pale imitation of a life. There was no question that she’d never loved a man as she did Liam—no question she would never love again after they parted, which they inevitably would. Nothing could ever come close to what she felt; there was a calm certainty in her heart about that. Even though she wished she could believe otherwise, convince herself that it was only the pang of first love every girl must experience.
But she was not a girl. She was a woman who knew her heart and soul too well.
And tonight, as she lay prone on the pile of blankets and pillows they had made before the hearth, Liam beside her, staring into the flames, her soul told her something else.
This is your last night.
Liam took a lock of her hair, and let it flow through his fingers like water. Torn from her melancholy reverie, she turned and offered him a smile. She would miss him. Missthis. Not simply the comfort, the pleasure, even the laughter they shared. But thisconnection. It seemed so natural to lie here with him, naked. There was no shame, no discomfort, no fear.
No, when he looked at her as he did now, lazily and yet reverently, his head propped up on his hand as he lay on his side, twirling her hair, she felt nothing but...Peace.
‘What is this for?’ Liam asked softly, his fingers trailing over the roman numerals inked on her shoulder. ‘1822?’
