Page 49 of The Autumn Wife
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
The confession done, Cecile pressed against Theo’s shoulder, head bowed, listening to his heart pounding under her ear like Huron war drums. She felt deflated, as if the whole terrible story had unloaded into the silence like a tipped cart of fieldstone. She remained curled up against him, terrified at what she might see if she dared to peel her cheek off his chest and look up into eyes that only moments ago had been filled with desire and adoration.
“Ceci.” His voice rumbled. “You saved your son. It had to be done.”
She let go of the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Hadn’t she told herself the same thing—it had to be done—a thousand times? Yet no matter how many times she repeated those words, they’d never burrowed deep enough to take root.
“Theo…” She gasped. “You believe me?”
“Every word.”
“But—”
“No exceptions.” He made a growling sound as he reached down to touch the burn scars at her hip and then reached up to trace the scar by her hairline. “I see what he’s done to you. Had you told me you’d planned a cold-blooded execution, I would still say you did what had to be done.”
His acceptance unstitched her, but she wasn’t sure she was ready to forgive herself. “Theo, I still took a life.”
“If you hadn’t had that flintlock in hand, you would have flung yourself between those two. Am I right? You would have taken the bullet yourself.”
She would have. No question. But that wouldn’t have stopped Eduard, and Etienne still would have been in danger. She squeezed her eyes shut to fight a tornado of emotions.
“This is why you wanted to join the convent.” He gave her a nudge as if to loosen her whelk-like body-curl. “You were seeking absolution.”
“You think too well of me.” Was forgiveness possible for such a mortal sin? “I wanted to join the convent for sanctuary from the law.”
He had been running his fingers down her naked back, but now they stilled. “Why would you need sanctuary? Is your husband still—”
“He’s gone.” She had hit the man full center. She’d seen him fall back into the river and sink. Sheand Etienne had stood at the river’s edge, breathing hard and in a state of numb shock. “He won’t be back.”
“Witnesses?”
“None but birds. And Etienne.”
“Good.”
“There’s…another complication.” She braced herself. “Talon has begun an investigation into my husband’s absence. There’s no stopping it. I won’t legally be a widow until Talon declares me so.”
“Then the investigation must proceed.” He pressed his lips against the top of her head and then slid down so they were face-to-face. He cupped one cheek. “After so much time, and no witnesses, the law won’t find you.”
She lost herself in his kind, loving eyes, wanting to believe he was right. Wanting to believe he wasn’t just telling her what she wanted to hear. Wanting to believe that dreams really could come true.
With that impetus, she leaned in and kissed him, letting hope rise along with a thousand other sensations. Skimming her palm across his chest, she nudged herself closer to his strong, beautiful body. How well they moved against each other, yielding and bending and pressing close.
When he slid atop her and entered her with a groan of his own, he knit their fingers together and pushed her arms above her head. He kissed her and moved with her and kissed her again until pleasure consumed them both.
After, as she drifted down from the peak of her excitement, she became aware of the fur blanket lifting, the cold air tingling her skin as he wiped her belly clean. His lips fell like a spark between her breasts before he covered them both up again.
“My Ceci.” His green eyes lit with a brightness that wasn’t just from the reflected glow of the stove’s golden-red coals. “I am in awe of the woman who came to me tonight, sharing so much more than her body.”
“I am yours.” The truth didn’t frighten her anymore. “Now and forever.”
“In that case…” He pressed his forehead against hers. “Let’s get married.”
The next morning, Theo stepped out of the barn into the bite of the morning chill, but nothing could dampen the warmth flooding through him. Cecile had left the barn earlier, for the sake of appearances, to slip back to the cabin in the pre-dawn. She had promised not to say a word about their engagement—even to Marie—until Theo joined them for breakfast.
Breakfast couldn’t come soon enough.
Following her wind-faded footprints through a dusty covering of snow, he swiped some firewood from the pile by the side of the cabin. Stepping ontothe porch, he pulled the door open just like every other morning, except this time he fought down a grin. He called out a hearty greeting as his gaze passed across the warm room to Marie, sitting with her back to everyone, nursing, then to Lucas at the table, finishing a bowl of sagamité, and then straight to Cecile where his gaze stopped. She was bending over a steaming pot by the hearth fire, her hair damp at her temples, her cheeks flushed from steam, fighting her own smile.
