Fiona shook her head against his chest.No, the pain she was feeling—while it had everything to do with him—was not the result of what they had just done.
“Did I hurtyou?”
Harry chuckled tiredly.“I am conquered.Defeated.”
Chapter 32
I have seen neither hide nor hair of Harry for nearly three whole days.There can be no doubt that he is avoiding me.Kitty and Jack are having a small ball to celebrate the birth and christening of the Haddington heir, sweet wee Montgomery, in just a few more days.One waltz with Harry (if he will grant me one) and I shall know when I look into his eyes.
~From the diary of Lady Fiona MacKintosh—Apr 1893
––––––––
What was she doing?
Why?
You know why, her conscience answered.Remember?No denial.
Fiona listened to Harry’s heart beating steadily beneath her cheek.Solid.Regular.Not at all as unsteady as hers with doubt that set her entire being all a quiver.His flesh was warm against hers.Not chilled with the astonishment of what she had done—whattheyhad done!—as hers was.
She hadgivenherself to him.Not surrendered, not submitted, but given wholeheartedly.Shared joyously.Not even in her wildest fantasies had she imagined the act would have so profound an impact upon her.It wasn’t just the physical.She had heard enough whisperings between her sisters-in-law over the years to know that it could be just as toe-curling and achingly passionate as it had been.
She had been prepared for that.
She could handle that.
No, what troubled her was how their passion hadn’t been shared just between their bodies.They hadn’t shagged, romped, fucked, or any of the other crude words the younger lads used to describe it.And whatever she wanted to believe, it had been an acceptance of desire.
No, Harry hadn’t merely caressed her flesh but her heart.He hadn’t owned only her body but her soul.They had been like one.She had seen within him, become one with him.Possessing him just as he had possessed her.
It had been desperate.Life-affirming.
He’d truly made love to her.
Evidence of late had shown that he cared for her, wanted her physically—even if it hadn’t been apparent two years before.He liked her company enough to propose marriage, but this was something more.Just as he had risked his safety to protect her that day, he was demonstrating more than any words could relate.Was it love?Was it merely wishful thinking?
