“Are you ready to tell me what had you so upset?” His voice was strained but warm. He didn’t attempt to pull me from my hiding place either, buried next to my mark.
“It was nothing. Xander told me he intended to leave London.” It wasn’t even a lie, at least not entirely. I felt his muscles relax even further.
“’M sorry, love.”
“Don’t apologize.”Please, I could not take it.
“Not sure what I did to earn the welcome I got in the carriage…” I pressed a kiss to my original print, feeling his heart give a thump beneath my lips.
“I just—you were…”
“Jus’ needed me?” The tiniest hint of hope peaked through, and I knew. I knew I should crush it. Discourage it. Anything but what I wanted, which was to wrap my hands around it and breathe life into it. To tell him that I needed him, wanted him, loved him; then and always.
“Something like that.” His chest rumbled beneath me in some kind of contented purr and apparently my response was sufficient.
I was a monster. Right now, right this second. I was using him. I was weak. And greedy. And I was leaching everything from him. His comfort, his vulnerability, his warmth, his love. I was taking it all and leaving him with nothing because it was the only way I could find the strength to do this.
He played with my curls, tracing one with a deceptively delicate, ink-stained fingers. It was soothing and loving and all the things I didn’t deserve. The motion, combined with the steady beat of his heart was almost enough to lull me to sleep.
Almost.
Because then he plucked the same one Victoria had, and the image of him bleeding beneath me flashed before my eyes. The sick feeling rose again, and it took everything in me not to tense, not to roll off him and heave.
After a moment, he moved on to the next curl, none the wiser. Eventually, his motions slowed, the gentle tugs on my hair weakened and stopped. His hand fell to his chest with a curl still trapped underneath.
Deep, even breaths and the rhythmicthadump,thadump,thadumpof his heart were the only things keeping me sane. The images of him bleeding underneath me were too real and too close to the surface for my own rest, especially once his soothing touch was abandoned to dreams.
Thirty-Six
CADIEUX HOUSE, LONDON - JUNE 18, 1816
WILLIAM
For the firsttime in recent memory, I woke alone. I didn’t like it. I hated it, in fact. I hadn’t felt her leave my arms and that was a terrible shame. She should be here, warm, sleep-rumpled, and sweet. Instead, the bed was cold.
Atap,rap,tapsounded from the window. The same infuriating tit from yesterday. “Hush you,” I said, feeling every bit the fool. It ceased its tapping but gave an indignant chirp as it stared at me. Good lord, I was talking to a bird.
Something was… not right. I could not point to it and name it. But something was coming.
My clothes from last night were folded neatly at the foot of the bed. I grabbed my trousers and stuffed in first one leg then the second, then I rose to fasten the buttons. And still no sign of Celine, just the two-note song of the damn bird.
Tossing on my shirt, I made for the door only for the handle to twist of its own accord under my hand. Celine stepped inside, a tray balanced against her hip as she shut the door behind her,my position unnoticed. She turned and jumped like a startled cat, her free hand pressed to her breast. Her clothed breast.
Notably, she was fully dressed for the day. Hair tugged back and up. She even wore slippers. Not once, since I joined her here, had I seen her dressed before half past ten. I hadn’t glanced at the clock this morning, but it was certainly earlier than that.
“William! You startled me.”
“You’re dressed.”
“Yes?”
“Why?” She set the tray on the edge of the bed before straightening. Her shoulders rolled back nearly imperceptibly with a heavy but delicate breath. And her eyes met mine.
And I knew.
“Do you want something to eat?”
I considered the bed for a moment. I wasn’t entirely certain my knees would hold for the blow that was coming. But the bed… the bed where, for two perfect nights I had loved her and she had loved me… No. Standing was better.
