Page 76 of Wicked Rivals
Her cheeks flushed. “He loved me, so much more than I expected, since he had not been looking for a bride that day he found me. I will always treasure his kindness and compassion.”
Jealousy and understanding of what she’d said mixed inside Ashton. He’d once believed he was in love with Emily Parr, for a brief few moments before Godric had stolen her heart completely. But in truth he had treasured her love and affection in the way that she taught him to crave love for himself and not stand alone. He loved her for it, but in a different way, perhaps the way Rosalind loved her late husband for showing her how to trust in herself after he was gone.
“If more men were like him, England would be a merrier place for it,” he replied softly.
“I agree.” Her words warmed him. They were finally agreeing on something. He decided to see if he could continue to get her to talk. There was so much about her he still wanted to know. “Why shipping companies? You have all your primary business interests in sea trade. I am curious as to what drew you to that. Your husband never invested in those.”
“Henry had interests in several businesses. I sold all of those except for the country bank he owned. I focused on ships because…” She paused. “Because I liked the idea of being able to get on any of those ships and sail away.” Her voice was so soft, almost a whisper, as if she was embarrassed to admit it.
“Why?” He lifted one of her hands and brought it up to his lips, kissing little places along her inner wrist and palm. It was so easy to enjoy this woman. He’d loved bed play in the past, but this…this was infinitely more. These small touches and tender kisses were built upon more than mutual desire; there was a growing affection and understanding that ever deepened what he felt for her.
“Please, talk to me.”
“I’m not good at sharing things, especially the things that hurt.”
Her pain wounded him, but he knew that sharing these secret parts of herself would only help to connect them.
I want to connect with her, at any cost. He wondered how it had been for his friends when they’d fallen for their wives. Had it been this frightening? This exciting? To bare their souls like this, not knowing if their dreams would somehow be dashed?
“I cannot say I am the most gifted at sharing myself, but we can try together. You talk, and then I will. Ask me whatever you wish.” He stroked his fingertips between her shoulder blades, waiting patiently for her to answer him. It was her choice, and he would not insist on it if she wasn’t ready.
“After growing up with a brute of a father, escape was my only dream. I imagined myself sailing away to shores unknown, where I could forget the years of cruelty I’d suffered under him. And I promised myself I would someday. Each of my ships is a promise I keep for my younger self.”
Ashton’s breath caught, and he struggled to find the right words, to say something that would soothe the hurt she was clearly suffering, but he was tongue-tied.
She raised her head and met him with a bold stare. “Tell me about Charles and the river. All of it.”
He knew she would ask that. It was one of the darkest moments in his life. But she’d shared her darkest moments with him, and he owed her the same openness.
“Someone tried to kill him. They tied him up and put him in the river by our college. Lucien and I were late back to our chambers, and we heard the shouting and splashes. We went in after him and…” His throat closed momentarily, and he swallowed hard before continuing. “It took four of us to save him, but we couldn’t save Peter.”
“Peter?”
He tightened his arms around her. “He was the first to try to save Charles, but he was under too long and the current was too fast. Peter was a friend.” That was all he could say. The words made fresh cuts in the old wounds of his memories.
They stayed together in the tub, watching the late-afternoon sun burst through the window, forming longer and longer shadows across the floor. They remained together until the water began to cool and the sounds of servants in the corridors echoed through to them.
“I believe we ought to get out. Dinner won’t be long now, and I should not like to be wrinkled for it.” He played with a damp lock of her hair, and she traced the scar on his shoulder. It was an almost perfect moment that Ashton couldn’t resist stretching out, despite what he’d just said. He would never want to give this up, or her, for anything in the world.
She gave him a disappointed but clearly teasing frown. “Very well, if we must.” Then she leaned in and kissed him before she climbed out of the bath in all her naked glory. With an impish grin, she held out her hand to him and he stood, water rushing down his body as he stepped out of the tub onto the wet floor, where they retrieved a pair of towels. He wrapped one around his hips and then shielded her with one, holding her close as he used his body to warm hers.
“This was lovely,” Rosalind said as she nuzzled him.
“It was, wasn’t it?” he replied, a little surprised himself at how wonderful it had been to bathe with her.
For the first time in as long as he could remember, Ashton was filled with hope.
Chapter Twenty
Tom Linley lingered in the shadows of the servants’ stairs, his heart hammering wildly. A footman came down the steps and froze at the sight of him.
“You will know my servants by the silver star pin on their neckcloths.”
His master’s instructions were not something he would forget anytime soon. He stared hard at the footman and saw a silver star glinting near his throat.
“Lovely afternoon for a stroll,” he said.
The footman looked to Tom. “Indeed, but rain can always come from cloudless skies.”
