“ ’Tis hardly a unique experience for me to be the subject of so much fascination for theton.Over the past few weeks, I have almost gotten used to the stares and whispering. Yet tonight it was greatly heightened. I am convinced we garnered so much attention this evening because we appeared together at the theater.” She smiled faintly. “We so rarely attend any of the same society functions, it seemed only natural there would be considerable curiosity and talk.”
“I felt it, too,” Trevor admitted. “Is it always so intense?”
Meredith shrugged. “Since our marriage there have been times I felt myself being scrutinized by what seemed like thousands of interested spectators. But it is not the multitudes that rattle me. Lately I have had this perception, this feeling, that one single person, one individual is taking an inordinate interest in my movements.”
“Do you have any idea who it may be?”
“No.” She let out a small laugh. “Which is why I am convinced I might be imagining it all. And yet . . .”
Meredith looked up. Trevor’s gaze was fixed forward, regarding her scrupulously. He appeared to be on the verge of saying something, then shook his head as though changing his mind. “You are a levelheaded woman, not given to imaginings. However, you have had a terrible fright this evening. We shall discuss this again in the morning, after you have rested.”
Meredith nodded. Perhaps it would be best to continue the discussion in the morning. Though she did in truth feel exhausted from mental, physical, and emotional fatigue, she wondered how she would possibly sleep. The fear and panic that had overtaken her at the theater lingered still, a dark shadow of fear in the corner of her mind.
“Where is Rose?” Meredith searched the bedchamber for her maid. “She generally waits up for me in my sitting room.”
“I dismissed her. I thought she might become frightened at seeing you so upset. Shall I ring for her?”
“Don’t bother. If you would just unhook the center buttons at the back of my gown, I can manage the rest.”
She stood and presented her back to her husband. The feel of his warm fingers drove away some of the chill. Yet all too quickly he had accomplished his task. She turned, clutching the gaping gown securely to her chest.
It suddenly became difficult to swallow. Meredith wanted nothing more than to beg him to stay with her, yet she could not ask. “Are you going out tonight?”
For a moment Trevor held himself rigid, as if struggling for control. The atmosphere was suddenly charged with a new tension, a different sensation—the alluring pull of sexual longing.
“I think it best if I remain here.”
“In my bedchamber?”
The blue of his eyes became deeper, stormier. But he said nothing. Meredith lifted her chin and studied a slight crack in the plaster work on the ceiling. Her anguish must have shown in her face.
“I shall stay until you fall asleep.”
The independent, prideful streak inside Meredith fairly screamed at her to object, to deny she needed anything from him. Yet her need for comfort was stronger than her pride.
Silently Meredith went behind the dressing screen to change. She deliberately chose a revealing nightgown of sheer silk, and instead of braiding her hair as usual she left it tumbling wantonly down her back. Pressing her lips together in a tight line, she took a deep breath, then walked boldly back into the bedchamber.
Trevor was sitting in a wing chair beside her bed. His handsome features were composed into an unreadable mask, yet as she brushed near she felt as if he were impaling her with his startling blue eyes.
Meredith’s heart skipped several beats as she climbed into the large, lonely bed. Her husband, the man she loved with all of her heart, moved not an inch. In the still silence of the night, he seemed more distant, more unattainable than ever.
Still, he had proven his regard for her most tangibly this evening by risking his life to save hers. His strong, protective presence brought not only a sexual longing, but a deep measure of safety and comfort.
Meredith drew an unsteady breath, determined to overcome the tangled knot of emotions twisting inside her. She pulled the covers to her chin and settled herself on her side, her back to the marquess. She lay there stiffly, willing herself to relax. Though she would never have believed it possible given all that had occurred this night, eventually she drifted off to sleep.
Sixteen
Cold, strong fingers grabbed Meredith’s hair, twisting the thick golden tresses and yanking it tight. Her neck was stretched and open, an inviting, vulnerable target. First she felt the menacing grip of his fingers. Then his hands encircled her throat. Closing, tightening, they pressed against her, choking her until she could get no air, could draw no breath.
She fought wildly, thrashing her legs, kicking her feet. Her arms were leaden. She could not lift them. Panicking, she tried to flee, to move away from the attacker, but she could not evade the strong hands so intent on doing her harm. Fear slammed into her chest. She could not escape!
Suffocating her scream of terror, Meredith somehow yanked herself away from the nightmare. She woke up abruptly, her skin cold and clammy, her breathing harsh and shallow.
She sat straight up in bed, glancing hopefully at the wing chair beside her bed. It was empty. No doubt Trevor had kept his word and waited till she fell asleep before leaving, but that thought brought her little comfort, for her bedchamber was now filled with an uneasy, lonely silence.
’Tis just a dream, it cannot hurt you. Meredith repeated the words in her mind as she shifted her back against the headboard and slowly lowered herself to her elbows.
With determination, she closed her eyes and tried to regulate her breathing, to calm her inner demons. But the images would not abate. Knowing she was clinging to her sanity by the barest of threads, Meredith threw off the covers in frustration.
