He stared at her.
“Holy Christ,” he breathed.
“Do you have nightmares about it, too?” she asked.
He tossed his wet shirt across a chair. He was quiet for a long moment. “I do,” he confessed. “And then I jolt awake. And turn over. And when I see you, I decide that it doesn’t matter whether I’m alive or dead. If you’re there, I’m in heaven, either way.”
She exhaled a stunned laugh. He did this, always: brought her close to tears by saying something beautiful as if it were a cardinal truth.
This side of Lucien was for her only.
She looped her arms around his bare waist and pulled him closer. She laid her warm cheek against his hard abdomen. “Lucien, I love you. You’re so chilly,” she murmured. “Sit with me.”
He sat.
She tugged the coverlet up to cover the two of them and put her arms around him, so she could warm him.
“Did you enjoy sleeping with Captain Hardy?” she murmured.
“I did not. It’s like sleeping next to a plank. He made me wear a nightshirt.”
She smiled.
“Did you like sleeping next to Delilah?”
“I did, at that. She smells nice and we had a good chat.”
Lucien laughed.
They sat quietly. “I don’t ever have to joke about it again, Angelique, if you don’t want me to.”
“I know that humor is what you do with painful things. We both do it. Joke if you must, in company. I mean that sincerely. I just wanted you to know that I have never once thought of it lightly. The notion that anyone could hurt you...”
He nodded, silently, very moved.
For a moment they sat together wordlessly.
“Angelique...” The word sounded hesitant.
She turned to him.
“I think I know what was bothering you last night. About the governess.” He took a breath. “It’s to do with Derring. And the others before. Or rather... is it?”
“It was,” she said, stiltedly. “Yes. In a way.”
Lucien closed his eyes. “I’m devastated if even for an instant I made you feel like... something topartakeof. You are so indescribably precious to me.”
“I knew you would suffer over it, Lucien, and I... I really cannot bear the idea of you suffering.”
“I understand. But Angelique... I need you to understand this, too: for you I would bear anything.”
She drew in a long, shuddering breath.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
He gently brushed her tears from her eyes.
“And Lucien, last night... you did nothing wrong. You always make me feel cherished. I was just very tired, as we all are, and feeling a little raw, and... somehow your playfulness found that vulnerable place in me and it hurt quite a bit. I’m sorry, too. I should have been able to tell you.”
