~ Thirteen ~
A WEEK THAT HAD BEEN lovely, lazy, and strangely stimulating passed for Heather at Brabant. She was just entering her fourth month of pregnancy, and her belly had hardly begun to swell.
Maurice took her for a gentle ride over his lands. They spent a great deal of time walking along the creamy sands, talking about nearly everything. She found herself laughing more and more while in his company.
Louise, too, was such a comfort and a great deal of fun, free now from the fear of the guillotine.
Both, she realized, were reluctant to talk about her trip back to England. Finally, Maurice brought up the subject and told her if she still wanted to leave, and he prayed she didn’t, there was a ship leaving soon for Cornwall.
She saw the pain in his eyes and took his hand. “Come…let us walk.”
She led him down the garden path to the wooden steps that would take them to the ocean. She loved the sound and scent of the ocean. It reminded her of Cornwall and Godwin.
It was a night for lovers. The moon was full and the island sky was alive with the twinkling of stars. The sound of the ocean waves crashing on rocks was exhilarating as they found their way past the boulders to the firm white sand. She laughed and removed her slippers, leaving them at the bottom step.
Godwin’s image filled her dreams, as did her doubts. Maurice had started to infiltrate those dreams. He was real, he was good, and he was present.
She had to admit to herself that she needed Maurice, had come to rely on him for so much. She knew she was physically attracted to him and wondered at it. Had her love for Godwin slipped into the past? Was he a forgotten hope?
Did she love Maurice? If only she could. Safety for her child was here with Maurice. The unknown lay across the ocean in Cornwall. In England, her child would be scorned. Here…not so.
The roar of the breakers against the long reef played out its willful song. The warm breeze took her hair, as did Maurice, who suddenly drew her into his arms.
“Even in the dark, those violet eyes of yours slay me,” he said softly.
She pushed off him and suddenly began undressing. “It is so warm…let’s take a swim.”
He looked momentarily astonished, but lost no time in throwing off his clothes.
In the shadow of the moonlight, Heather wondered at herself. She felt no shyness as she looked at his hardened manhood. She knew what restraint it took for him not to reach out and touch her.
She laughed as she turned and ran towards the spray.
He joined her and they fell in the shallows. As he helped her up, he said, “Heather…” And no longer held back as he held her wet and naked body against his own.
His kiss was long and stirred Heather’s passion. She allowed it, but then pulled away.
He did not try and stop her as she ran back to where she had left her clothes. He followed. As she dressed, she looked away from him.
“Heather?” he said softly.
She turned and saw he had his britches and boots back on. “Yes?”
“I will speak as always, plainly. Chérie, between us it is possible to speak plainly, oui?”
“Oui,” she said softly. She was torn up with guilt. She was turning away from Godwin, the love of her life, and she knew it. How could she do such a thing?
“In many things, you are a good woman. Do not shake your head. You are so good, and that is why I am puzzled. You have been honest with me, so I must speak. How, Heather, can you, a good woman, destroy the lives of so many?”
It was as though he had stuck a knife into her. “What? What are you saying?”
“Ah, you don’t want to see, do you? This worthless woman, Sara…but if you go back, you destroy her. I care nothing for her, but the boy, what of him? And Godwin will be at risk from Sara, as you will be again. Your child…it will be born illegitimate. He will never be able to marry you in time, if at all.”
Heather’s face contorted with pain. “Oh God…what have we done?” It was all so ugly because they, she and Godwin, had been selfish and careless. “But what of Godwin? He has a right to see the child he wants so very much.”
“You are stubborn or blind…or both. This Godwin is a man. In the end, he will take another woman. It is the way of men. He will father another child. You must see to the future.”
“No. Enough! I can’t listen to this,” Heather shouted, and put on her slippers. She rushed ahead of him up the wooden steps and out of sight.
* * * * *
Heather lay in bed in an anguish of indecision. She cared for Maurice, perhaps on some level, she loved him. If she had never known Godwin, perhaps she would have loved Maurice completely and accepted to be his wife? Perhaps.
She adored her unborn child. If she stayed with Maurice, would it be best for her child? Perhaps. It would be a lie, though. One day she would have to tell her child…or would she? Oh, what to do?
A knock on her door brought her head up. “Yes?”
“Heather…I cannot sleep. I was awful to you…I…please, would you come to the door and allow me to apologize?”
She jumped out of her bed. It was dreadful that he thought he should apologize. She was the one at fault. She opened the door wide. “Maurice…no. You didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.”
He stepped inside. “It wasn’t my place to tell you how to live your life. You must do what you think is right for you.”
“Oh, Maurice…my dear Maurice,” she whispered, not knowing what else to say, what else she could do. She could see him shatter right before her eyes. He was breaking…over her. How could she do this to him when he had offered her his world?
He took her shoulders and before she knew what she was doing, or perhaps if she was honest, really honest with herself, she would admit that she did know exactly what she was doing and why. She knew he needed this and she was so eternally grateful to him.
His mouth sought and won her own. Hungrily, ardently, feverishly he kissed her, long and with a passion he seemed unable to hold back. She was, in fact, surprised how welcome his delicious kisses were, and responded in kind.
She was absolutely incredulous about her level of arousal. She had believed no other than Godwin could please her, but Maurice’s touch was welcome, very welcome.
Heather was driven by gratitude and deep affection. Also, she just couldn’t reject his advances. How could she do that to him? She was torn in so many directions in that moment, and the kisses seemed to ease all thought.
She believed, truly believed that if she allowed him to bed her, she would no longer be a challenge lost and he could then be able to move on when she left for home.
Thus, she allowed him to manipulate her nightdress even as he backed her towards her bed. A moment later she felt a rush of sensation as he dexterously teased her nipples until they were taut and ready for his mouth. Swiftly, urgently, he discarded her nightdress, and groaned as his hands roamed over her beauty and his tongued teased one nipple and then the next.
Heather was shocked at the flood of happiness surging through her. Finally, she was able to give him something of herself. His kisses—his touch, were pleasant enough to arouse the woman in her, and she moved willingly to Maurice’s fingers as he sought the fluff and then the wetness between her thighs.
She smiled warmly, encouragingly, when he looked into her eyes with hope. She whispered sweet words of affection and admiration as he dropped his open neck shirt and britches to the hardwood floor.
He laid her back on the bed and his voice was hoarse with passion as he told her, “Spread wide for me, my petite…spread wide.”
She did as he asked and he bent his head to nibble at her sex. She arched with pleasure, for he had a certain expertise as he worked her, and it didn’t take long before she cried out his name as he brought her to relief.
His voice was joyful then as he got into position and deeply, ravenously plunged into her.
Their time, that night, was filled with the wonder of passion, but even as he took her, she knew she would always dream of Godwin, and kept her eyes tightly shut.