Chapter 29
Catherine was still recalling the story of Uncle Seamus a few days later as she returned some books to the library. A smile lifted her lips and every now and then she would chuckle to herself as she recalled yet another humorous remark made by Rian that evening. She was thankful for his patience with her, and seeing how Felicity and Liam were managing to deal with the pain they had endured gave her hope.
She could not compare her defilement at Phillip’s hands with the loss of a baby, but it had caused a pain of a different kind. She knew the bond she and Rian shared was just as strong as the one that tied Liam and Felicity to each other. If her best friends in the whole world could put enough trust in each other to move forward with their lives, surely she could find the same faith in her husband, and he in her. Of course, the difficulty that threatened their love for each other was very different in nature.
Catherine had returned to her previous bedroom because she had been afraid. Afraid of being rejected by Rian. Would he ever be able to look at her again and not see Phillip’s hands on her body? How could he take her to his bed and not be reminded of all that had happened that night? Was the image of her, on her knees, burned forever in his mind? Would he—could he—ever want to make love to her again? Had Phillip succeeded in destroying the passion and desire they’d once felt for each other?
Catherine had no answers, but these questions had haunted her every day since returning to Oakhaven. She knew Rian would never deny her his bed, but what if he turned away from her? Or chose to sleep elsewhere himself? It was cowardly of her to seek refuge in what had once been his mother’s bedroom, but better that than to lie next to him knowing he could not bring himself to touch her.
It had been different when they’d first escaped from Phillip’s house. Once Catherine had convinced him she suffered no lasting physical effects, all attention had been devoted to Liam and Felicity. This did not mean Rian failed to be attentive to her, but Catherine was able to direct his concern to his brother, telling him rightfully that Liam’s hardship was greater than hers. When Rian finally returned to their bedroom, the hour was inevitably late and she was sleeping. Not wishing to disturb her, he had spent his nights fitfully dozing in the chair.
But that had been in the city; at Oakhaven it was a very different matter.
As his wife, Catherine was expected to share his bed, but why put him through the torture of making excuses not to sleep with her? So she had decided to take the decision out of his hands and asked to be given her old room. He had agreed, as she knew he would; only now she didn’t know how to breach the impasse between them.
Rian was still kind and attentive, giving every indication that he was happy to be her husband and she pleased him as a wife, but she could sense him starting to withdraw from her. At least physically. He had never needed an excuse to touch her. Stroking her cheek or reaching for her hand came as naturally to him as breathing. But he no longer did those things. When they walked, he kept his hands firmly jammed in his pockets and no longer pulled her behind a tree or some overgrown shrubbery to nuzzle her neck or kiss her. And he no longer whispered how much he wanted to take her body. Like a plant that was deprived of water, the intimacy they once shared was slowly dying.
With a sigh, Catherine realized there was only one way to stop torturing herself with unanswered questions. She had to know, to be absolutely certain whether her life with the only man she loved, the only man she ever wanted to love, was over or not. Pushing her fear aside, she searched for the courage to speak about what had happened with the only person who truly mattered. Before it was too late.
* * * *
Rian and Liam were in the study dealing with estate business when the letter was delivered. Recognizing Edward’s neat script, Rian quickly broke the wax seal bearing his insignia and unfolded the heavy parchment. The letter was short and, unlike his customary reports, made no mention of The Hall. At least not directly. Rian quickly scanned the two paragraphs, and felt his heart sink. He glanced at his brother, and then reread the letter. The expression on his face remained bleak.
“Rian, man, for God’s sake what is it? What has happened?” There was more than just concern in Liam’s voice, so Rian handed him the single sheet of paper. He poured them both brandy as Liam read for himself Edward’s words and then took the glass from Rian’s hand.
“How on earth are you ever going to tell her?” Liam asked.
“I have absolutely no idea.”
* * * *
Catherine was in her room, brushing out her hair when a knock on the door interrupted her. “Come in, Rian.”
Looking slightly flustered, he entered. “How did you know it was me?”
She turned on her seat and smiled at him. “If you have not forgotten, I spent a great deal of time confined to bed in the townhouse. I learned to recognize who passed by the door by the sound of their footsteps.”
His expression made her suddenly embarrassed by her revelation, and turning back around, she busied herself with her hairbrush, hoping he had not noticed the flush on her cheeks.
“Your hair is getting longer,” Rian observed.
Self-consciously Catherine put her hand to the nape of her neck and looked at him in the mirror. He seemed out of sorts, distressed and a little agitated. There was a shadow in his eyes, one that made her heart skip a beat.
Oh my God, is he going to tell me that he doesn’t love me anymore? Or worse, that he does, but can’t be with me?
“Rian, what is it? Is something wrong?” She swiveled around and watched as he came and knelt before her. Oh God! A man only knelt before a woman to either ask for her hand, or to give her the gravest of news. As she and Rian were already wed, he was not kneeling out of joy. Gently he took the hairbrush from her hand and placed it on the dresser. His face was filled with sorrow, and Catherine stared at him, trying to guess what could have caused such misery. “Rian, something has happened, hasn’t it? Please tell me what it is. You’re beginning to scare me!”
He cleared his throat and spoke in a husky whisper. “I received a letter today…from Edward.”
She nodded. A letter from Edward. Well, that wasn’t unusual. Edward had written to Rian before. “What did he say?” she asked softly.
Her eyes were a bright summer sky blue, clear and gentle as they stared back at him. The barest hint of her earlier embarrassment still flushed her cheeks, and her mouth, lips full and slightly parted, reminded him how much he wanted to taste the sweetness again.
“Rian, what did Edward tell you?”
There was no way to soften the blow. “Old Ned has died.”
For a moment she felt nothing but relief to know he hadn’t come to tell her he no longer loved her, but then his words registered and she was immediately ashamed of her selfishness. Guilt and sorrow stole her voice for a moment.
“How?”she asked, barely above a whisper, and had Rian not seen her lips move, he would have missed the question.
“It was very peaceful. His daughter told Edward he died in his sleep.” He swallowed. “I know how much he meant to you, Catherine.”
She looked up at him and nodded, then dropped her head. Seeing the telltale movement of her shoulders, Rian got to his feet and pulled her into his arms so he might console her. Catherine turned her face into his shoulder, and mourned for someone who had shown her kindness her entire life, and who had been so much more than a faithful retainer.
She did not know how long she wept, but when she was finally done, the sense of loss was so strong, the void became a dull, throbbing ache. She did not protest when Rian picked her up in his arms and laid her gently on her bed. She did not protest when she felt him reach for her hand and press his lips to the back of it, but she turned away from him when she felt the threat of more tears. She did not weep for Old Ned. She wept for herself and Rian, and what they were in danger of losing.
* * * *
At Rian’s suggestion, Liam left with his wife to spend a few days with her parents. Although she had made great progress, Felicity was still fragile, and he wasn’t sure how Catherine’s grief might affect her. Liam would tell everyone at Pelham Manor the news of Old Ned’s passing in the morning.
Rian frowned as he closed the door to his bedroom. For some reason Mrs. Hatch had only left a single candle burning. It cast a weak light, but it really didn’t matter as he could navigate his way around the room in total darkness if need be. Removing his jacket, he sat in the chair and pulled off his boots before rising so he could begin the task of unbuttoning his shirt. Catherine’s voice stopped him just as he was done with the last closure.
“Do you hold me to blame for what happened to Lettie?” Her voice trembled.
Fearful that if he turned around the voice would prove to be nothing more than an illusion, Rian remained standing with his back to the bed. He searched his memory, recalling how they had sat holding hands quietly in the chapel, listening to Reverend Hastings deliver Lettie’s eulogy. They had remained there long after everyone else had left. “Lettie was troubled,” he’d told her, “and, I think, had been for a very long time. Finally, she is at peace.”
He had thought that would be the end of it, but apparently this had been weighing on Catherine’s mind. Had the news about Old Ned acted as a catalyst, reopening a hidden wound in her? He did not know, but all that mattered was that she was here, in his room, and had come of her own volition. He was not about to send her away.
“Do you blame me?” she asked him again, her voice firmer and a little less fragile sounding.
Rian placed his hands on the dresser, palms down, and bowed his head. “No, I do not hold you to blame for Lettie’s suicide.” There, it was said. He held his breath, and waited for her to say something…anything.
“Then do you blame me for allowing Phillip to do what he did to me before, and what he tried to do again?”
A wave of nausea washed through him at her words. How could she possibly think he would hold her accountable for the sick perversions of that man’s twisted nature? Was this what had been festering in the back of her mind since they had returned to Oakhaven? Was this why she had wanted to sleep alone and not share the warmth and comfort of his bed? And it wasn’t just her body that he missed, but her companionship.
Rian took a deep breath and let it out slowly before answering. “I blame only two people for your abduction, and all the subsequent consequences. Isabel Howard and Phillip Davenport.” His voice trembled too, but it was with barely suppressed anger. How dare they make Catherine think she was responsible in any way for the events that had almost destroyed her? It took some effort, but he managed to leash his anger, and when he spoke again, his voice was soft and gentle. “Catherine, I hold you blameless for everything that has happened, except making me fall in love with you.” The lump in his throat was making it difficult to speak, and he forced himself to swallow it down. “For that I hold you completely, entirely, and utterly accountable.”
Rian kept his head bowed, his hands curled into fists on top of the dresser. He sensed her behind him, coming closer but still he did not turn around. Out of the corner of his eye he picked up the movement of her hand as she covered his fist.
“Do you still love me?”
She withdrew her hand from atop his, letting it fall to her side. He uncurled his fists, relaxed his hands and placed them, palms down, on the smooth wood surface.
“I will love you until the day I draw my last breath,” Rian told her.
“And do you still want me?” Doubt made her step away from him.
“Do I still—” he whirled and every thought in his head turned to dust, shattered by the image that stood before him.
She wore the same nightgown she had worn on their wedding night; the filmy material clung to every sensuous swell and curve of her body. Her hair was curled softly about her face, reaching just below her chin, and it framed her like a halo of white light as she waited for him to declare himself. He could sense her pride, her defiance and also her sense of shame.
“If you cannot bear to touch me, hold me in your arms, or to be a husband to me, Rian, you must tell me!” Tears fell, glistening on her cheeks, revealing what she had been keeping to herself all these long, lonely nights.
“What happened—” She closed her eyes and took a shuddering breath. “The things Phillip did to me…if you find that you cannot lie with me again because of it, I will understand…but you must tell me, Rian, I have to know.” She turned her head, unable to look at him. “I cannot live like this. It hurts too much.”
He came at her all in a rush, sweeping her up into his arms and throwing them both back on the bed. The breath whooshed out of her, and she gasped. Like a man possessed, Rian kissed her face, her cheeks, her eyes, forehead and nose. He rained quick lightning bolts of barely controlled passion down the column of her throat, her neck, and the naked skin of her shoulders where her nightgown had slipped loose. And then he stopped, his own body shuddering as he caught his breath and looked into her eyes, watching as they turned a deep shade of indigo, a color he loved so well.
“I love you,” he told her simply and eloquently, “and I want you in every possible way a man can want a woman.” And before she could answer, he covered her mouth with his, tasting the sweetness of her breath and losing himself in the wonder of her.
Quickly he pulled on the ribbons that closed the sheer gown and then shed his own clothes with as much haste. Covering her body with his, he let her feel the hard length of him as it pushed against her and almost wept with gratitude as she opened herself to receive him. Raising his head, his face only inches from hers, Rian felt a chill run down his spine as he looked into her eyes. Eyes a man could drown in, eyes he wanted to drown in, and without a second thought he gave himself to her.
“I thought I had lost you,” Catherine whispered, her voice husky with need and wanting.
He felt the warmth of her mouth as her lips sought his, felt the roll of her hips beneath him, and then he felt her desire eclipse his own as she brought him with her to the point of no return, sending both of them over the edge. And in that moment of breathtaking ecstasy, Rian knew his life was complete.
THE END