AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He guided her to the sofa and sank down onto it with her, his arms still about her, his hands rubbing over her back. “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he murmured into her hair. “I’m so sorry.”
He knew her tears would come, and that they would be terrible, that they would rip him in two. He did not expect, however, the violence of them. They wracked her body, the sobs raw and painful to listen to, the agony and grief of weeks’ worth of fear bursting from her. The fire in the hearth receded, the room falling into gloom, and still she cried. And through it all he held her.
Finally, after what felt like hours, her tears subsided and she fell into an exhausted silence. The only indication that she had not fallen asleep were her fingers, gently rubbing over the sleeve of his jacket. He should go now, he knew. He had told her what she needed to know, after all, which was the only reason he had returned to Synne. But he couldn’t bear the thought of leaving her just then. He would see her to her bed, he promised himself. He would see her safe. And then he would leave her for good.
“Come along then,” he murmured, gently extricating himself from her embrace and helping her to her feet, securing an arm about her shoulders lest she fall. What he wouldn’t give, he thought, to sweep her in his arms and carry her up the stairs. But the bitterness didn’t come as it typically did. Instead a soft sadness took its place. The truth was, no matter what he was or was not physically capable of, if he could be by Margery’s side he would be happy.
She followed along quietly as he led her through the house, not making a sound when he stopped to ask a footman to inform Lady Tesh that her granddaughter was safe and was not to be disturbed. Her head listed on his shoulder, and once or twice he feared they might topple over—he was not the most balanced fellow, after all.
But they finally made it to her rooms. He guided her to the bed, assisted her in removing her clothes—how was he just noticing the pink dress, and what did it mean?—with infinite care and gentleness until she wore nothing but her chemise. She remained still and silent through his ministrations, not saying a word as he pulled the pins from her hair, one by one, letting the curling locks, thick and silky against his fingers, fall loose down her back. Too soon—he could have played ladies’ maid to her forever—he guided her back against the pillows and tucked a blanket about her. He took one last moment to gaze down at her. Her eyes were closed, her lashes thick and curling against the paleness of her cheeks. He hoped—prayed—that he had given her a modicum of peace.
As he turned to go, however, her voice, small and frail, called to him from the shadows.
“Stay with me.”
He dragged in a ragged breath. “You need your rest.”
“I need you.”
The same ragged breath left him in a burst. Surely she was delirious and fragile, and simply didn’t want to be alone. She would have asked it of any of her family as well if they had brought her to her bed in such a state.
Why, then, did his heart leap with joy?
Even so, though everything in him cried out to remain, he might have been able to refuse her. Had she not spoken one devastating word.
“Please.”
As if drawn to her on a string he closed the door and went to her. In silence he sat on the bed, removed his jacket, managed to pull off his boots. And then he was stretched out beside her. She came to him immediately, curling against his side, warm and soft and her body fitting against his with an aching perfection. As if she belonged there.
And as he held her close and listened as her body grew relaxed and her breathing slowed in sleep, he thought for one mad moment that maybe, just maybe, she did.
Chapter 25
The room was dark as pitch when Margery woke. And yet there was not a single moment of confusion. She knew exactly where she was. And who she was with.
She smiled, tightening her arm about Daniel’s middle. His breathing had the deep and even cadence of sleep, his heart beating strong under her ear. He smelled of soap and fresh air and warm man. It was exactly where she wanted to be.
She lay like that for a time, listening to his breath as it joined in chorus with the faint sound of the waves outside her window, feeling the heavy weight of his arm about her shoulder as he held her to him even in sleep. The events of the previous day played over in her mind. What gifts she had been given. To be free of the blackmailer, to learn that Daniel had not had a part in Aaron’s death, to know that Aaron had not been alone when he’d died, were all like balms to her soul. And now Daniel was back in her arms. And she’d be damned if she would let him go again.
She felt it the moment he awoke. His breathing changed, his body stirring against hers, his hair scraping the pillow. And then his utter stillness as he realized where he was. She tightened her arm about him, not about to let him pull away.
“Margery?”
His voice was deep and rough with sleep. And so dear it brought tears to her eyes.
“Yes, Daniel?”
“You—are you well?”
She smiled into his chest. Sweet man, to think of her before he had full command of his faculties. “Better than well,” she murmured.
“I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” he mumbled. She could hear the fight in his voice to wake fully. And then a sigh. “I should leave.”
“I wish you wouldn’t.”
His body shuddered beneath hers, as if her words brought him actual pain. “You’re making this harder than it has to be.”
She smiled into his chest. He had yet to remove his arm from around her. If anything, his grip had unconsciously tightened. He didn’t want to part, either. Though, stubborn man that he was, he wouldn’t admit it.
