“See, Peaches is just fine. I’d never let anyone hurt my favorite puppy in the whole world, nor,” Tilde glanced from Eloise to Althea, “either of my favorite little girls.”
And easy as that, Althea climbed back under the covers, and Peaches crawled in beside her.
“Can Peaches sleep with Thea?” Eloise asked the question for her sister.
Tilde met Jaspers gaze from across the bed and shrugged. “It’s fine by me, as long as you don’t object.”
Jasper ran one hand through his hair and sighed. The two very good friends snuggled peacefully where only moments before had been terror. “How could I object to so much love?”
Tilde smiled and then moved to go back to her own chamber when a tiny hand clasped around her wrist. Large eyes stared up at her. Tilde needed no words in order to know the question behind them.
“Thea wants you and Papa to stay until she falls asleep.” Eloise had climbed back under her own blanket but was still communicating for her sister.
Jasper leaned against the headboard, lifted his feet onto the bed and crossed them at the ankles. He’d obviously been through this routine before. “I’ll stay, Thea. No need for Miss Fortune to miss out on her sleep as well.”
But he sounded… lonely.
Tilde made herself comfortable on the chair beside the bed, going so far as to tuck her feet beneath her. Jasper’s eyes met hers questioningly. It reminded her a little of his daughter’s own silent plea.
“I’ll stay a while too.” And in the flickering light of the candle, their gazes locked and held.
Was it possible to see into another person’s soul? To know not only their thoughts, but to feel what they feel, what they need? She’d never felt so… connected to another person. It made no sense, and yet it was the most natural thing she’d ever experienced.
And when she was with him, she felt every breath of air go into her lungs and fill her body with life. Every touch reminded her she was a part of something much larger than herself. The world was a richer place, and everything suddenly had meaning.
The intensity of his gaze confirmed that with this emotional connection came an almost overpowering need to consummate it physically. Those silken strands that had wound around her eleven years ago had thickened into ropes. And as the ropes tightened, she struggled to hold anything back from him.
Was it possible that she loved him?
“It’s nice to not be alone in this.” His words startled her from her thoughts. His wife must have sat with him before she became ill. Such a night as this created a profound intimacy.
“I cannot imagine the heartbreak you’ve experienced.” He didn’t respond but stared across at her again and then dropped his gaze to his daughter’s tousled head.
“Thank you.” He finally whispered.
Tilde made herself more comfortable. She felt at peace for now, it was nice to simply be in his presence.
[***]
Tilde woke with a start as she was lifted into the air. “What are you…”
“Hush.” Jasper carried her out of the nursery and through the doors to her own chamber. “Both girls have been sleeping for a while. Thea won’t relinquish your pup, however.”
Tilde could not remember the last time another person had deigned to carry her. Uncertainty had her clutching her arms around his neck in surprise. “You don’t have to…”
He only held her tighter as he turned and managed to close the door behind them.
“Oh, Jasper.” Did he not know what his nearness did to her? But by now he was already lowering her onto the high bed he’d selected for her suite.
She expected him to bid her goodnight or thank her. She expected anything but for him to remain standing by the bed, watching her in the moonlight with a dark intensity.
“My heartbreak.” He began before looking to stare toward the window. “Was for what should have been. I was not heartbroken when she died. I was… relieved.” The words surprised her. He was speaking as though she’d not fallen asleep, and he’d not carried her to her bed. She’d mentioned that he must be heartbroken…
When he turned to gaze down at her again, he seemed to be waiting for her to rebuke him.
Tilde sat up so she could see him better. “Did you not love her?”
He shook his head, almost imperceptibly. “I loved her. She was my wife. I was never in love with her. And in the end, I found myself resenting her.” The darkness seemed to invite his confidences. She doubted he’d ever admitted so much to anyone else.
