Page 31 of Scars of a Passionate Revenge
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Benedict sighed softly at her words. How right she was! Even though he could not remember a thing of the stories she was telling him, he knew that she was right. When they were children, playing together, there was no shadow over them. Nothing to keep them apart, other than the disapproval of the adults around them.
But now, there was so much at stake. He was grateful that she did not ask him much about himself and about what had happened in his life since the time they knew each other.
He did not want to tell her lies, but he also knew he could not tell her the truth; that he was convinced that her own father had betrayed his father, sending them both into a cycle of suffering and penury. And that his whole reason for getting to know her was based on his desire for revenge.
He pushed the thoughts away. He did not want to think about that now. All he wanted was to enjoy this time with her, to pretend as if there was no reason that they could not be together.
She was talking about her aunt now. “She has been so kind to me, Benedict, when really no one else in family seemed to want me at all.” She paused and a shadow of sadness crossed her face. “I had thought that my father was getting better, and we might be able to spend some more time together, that it might be like the way things were before he met Dorothea, but he is so ill again. And Dorothea refuses to consult a doctor. I do worry about him.”
Benedict nodded, trying not to allow his face to betray his confused thoughts. If the baron died before he managed to get his revenge, then what? Would he ever allow himself to be at peace?
“I am sure your father will recover,” he said instead. “Perhaps he needs a little more fresh air.”
She nodded. “That is exactly what I think!” She looked around the clearing, and up at the clear blue sky overhead. “How can it not be good for someone, to be outside? It is so perfect here, is it not?”
“It is perfect,” he breathed, trying to resist the urge to kiss her again. Sitting here on the grass, he was not sure he would be able to contain himself, and he might end up pushing things too far. He had to bide his time.
“Did I tell you about my aunt’s house in the countryside?” she asked.
He shook his head. “Please, do tell me about it. I would love to know.” He meant what he said, too; he wanted to hear her telling stories about her life, to take his mind off all the other thoughts that were plaguing him.
“It is on the edge of the moor. The countryside there is wonderful. And there are very few neighbors. We do not have to spend much time in society; instead, we can walk and go riding, or stay at home and read when the weather is bad. It is a very pleasant life. I am very lucky.”
He nodded. “It does sound idyllic. You do not enjoy the city so much, I think.”
“You are right. And the events of the Season make me anxious at times.”
“What do you have to be anxious about?” he asked.
She shrugged. “Many things. But I imagine I must sound rather silly, complaining about my lot in life when I am so fortunate in so many ways.” She looked at him rather shrewdly and he that that perhaps she was wondering what had happened to him in the years since they had last met. She must know what had happened to his father, surely? But he would not ask her. He wanted now to only speak of pleasant things.
She carried on chatting happily, telling him about her aunt’s dogs and the antics they got up to, and the vegetable garden that they tended to on her aunt’s property. He found himself imagining visiting her there, and going for long walks together across the moorland. He found that he rather enjoyed the fantasy.
Her company made him feel more comfortable than he had felt with anyone for a long time, and as she told him her funny stories, and made him laugh, he felt his worries melting away.
All too soon, though, she looked up at the sky and then got to her feet. “We should be getting back to the house,” she said, a look of regret on her face as she spoke. “It would be better if no one knew that we had been out together this morning, don’t you think?”
He nodded. “I agree, and I quite understand,” he said.
They walked over to where the horses stood, but before she could take the rein of her horse, he could not resist slipping his arm around her waist and pulling her close to him again.
The softness of her body made his loins ache with desire. He pushed his mouth against hers and felt her yielding to him immediately. He searched her mouth with his tongue, and enjoyed the depth of the kiss.
She let out a sigh as he drew away. He gazed into her eyes and felt something shift inside himself. He did not know how to name the feeling, but he knew that he had never felt anything quite like it before.
“Thank you, Alice, for your company today,” he said softly. “I have enjoyed it very much.”
She smiled and he felt his heart swelling in his chest. “If you wish it, Benedict, I could teach you to ride?” she said, a little tentatively. “I know you are afraid, but horses are the most gentle beasts, once you know what to do.”
He nodded. “I would like that,” he replied, almost before he had had a chance to think about his response.
They took their horses’ reins in hand and began to lead them back to the house. Benedict thought, as they walked along, that really, he was not particularly keen on learning to ride. But if she were to teach him, then it would mean more time together, and that was something he wanted more than anything else in the world.
Chapter 14
They returned to the house and went their separate ways, agreeing to meet later in the breakfast room and not mention anything of their early morning adventure.
