Page 30 of The Banished Bride
The echoof his horse’s pounding hooves had long since died away, yet the thumping in Aurora’s chest was still like thunder in her ears. She ran her tongue over her swollen lips, only to find that the taste of him lingered as well. Like a liberal shot of spirits, it was doing strange thing to her equilibrium. Her legs seemed to be tilting at a most peculiar cant while her stomach was engaged in a series of odd somersaults that left her breathless and a little dizzy. Taking her head between her hands, she sunk down onto one of the crates and tried to make some sense of what had just happened.
Surely her innate common sense, advanced years and previous experiences with the predatory nature of the opposite sex should have combined to make her immune to any amorous advances from a gentleman. Yet here she was, in danger of falling into a swoon at a mere kiss. One would think she was an innocent schoolgirl, who had never been kissed before!
She had, of course. Twice to be exact, counting this one.
Her lips gave a wry quirk. No matter that she hadn’t experienced the sensation with great regularity, she still should not be feeling as if her limbs had been turned to blanc mange nor should her insides be sliding around as if they were jellied aspic on a platter. And above all, she most certainly should not be wishing that Alex had made a complete meal of her.
But she was.With a tiny gulp, she realized she had wanted nothing so much as for his mouth to have continued its ravenous plundering, his hands to have shredded her willing body into a thousand little morsels, to be consumed one by one. He had made her feel delicious. Was it any wonder that she had wanted to be devoured?
Silly goose!
Adding a rather more descriptive phrase she had overheard the coachman mutter, Aurora righted herself and began to pace before the dying embers. All men had strong appetites. Hadn’t her investigations revealed that time and again? So she must not be so bird-witted as to think that Alex’s hunger had been for her in particular.
But that did not account for her own sudden cravings. She had never before felt that anything was missing from her comfortable existence. Her little household—Robbie, Alice, even Homer, the calico cat—had provided companionship, while her hobby had kept her wits exercised and her days from becoming too flat. What more was there to wish for in life?
Alex Woodmore, she answered with a sigh and a scrunch of her lips.
Oh, at times he could be as annoying as most men, showing the usual male penchant for overbearing arrogance and petty tyranny. But such glaring flaws paled in light of his other qualities. He had also shown himself to be kind, strong, clever and—wonder of wonders—willing to listen to another opinion, even that of a female.
No matter that their exchanges sometimes involved a few thrusts and parries. She enjoyed crossing verbal swords with him, for he had a honed intelligence and a sharp sense of humor.
Add to all that the fact that his piercing sapphire eyes and lithe, muscular form caused her insides to spark and quiver in a reaction that no aging female companion or furry feline creature seemed to elicit.
She paused in her pacing and stared at the narrow gold band on one of her left fingers. Worn to avoid tiresome explanations or prying queries, it now raised some disquieting questions of its own. Had such a sham arrangement deprived her of what a real marriage might have offered? She had always scoffed at Robbie’s suggestion that a man might inspire her to dream girlish dreams. Or, even more improbably, to fall in love.
But was it such an absurd notion?
A sigh escaped from somewhere deep inside as she thought about the encircling strength of Alex’s arm around her shoulders. It had been comforting to nestle up against his chest, savoring the corded ripple of muscle, the texture of his dark locks against her cheek and the faint woodsy tang of his person. He made her feel safe. Yet at the same time, he also stirred strange longings that were decidedly dangerous to her old way of thinking.
All of a sudden, Aurora found she wanted someone to lean on when clouds threatened to obscure Orion and all the other constellations. More disturbing yet, the mere thought of his touch was causing her to grow warm in places she had never thought about before. The physical aspect of marriage, as described by the women of her acquaintance, had always sounded more of an onerous chore than anything that might prove a pleasant experience. But now, she found herself curious—insatiably curious—to know what it would be like to have Alexdo some of the things she had seen depicted in that enticing little book of his.
It was all so very confusing! Robbie’s novels had made love seem simple and straightforward. What she was feeling was neither, so she couldn’t possibly be in love with Alex Woodmore.
The devilish question was …
Enough!Even an idiot could see how hopelessly foolish it would be to let her thoughts keep wandering in such a direction. She prided herself on possessing at least a modicum of intelligence, and it was clear that if she was going to fall in love with any man, it had better be her husband, else the consequences would only lead to disaster.
And since the chance ofthathappening was only marginally greater than that of her replacing Perceval as Prime Minister, her heart had best remain unmoved! No matter what turmoil the rest of her body and brain were in.
A squall of wind suddenly caused the rough planked front door to fly open, and Aurora hurried over to close it. As her fingers worked to secure the rusting latch, she warned herself that she must do their same with her own unsettled emotions. They must be locked away, at least for now.
There would be plenty of long, empty nights to think about what sweet dreams might have been possible, had the cards that life had dealt fallen in her favor.
Nine
The weather began to mirror her own unsettled feelings. A swirl of fog eddied around the cottage while a series of rain showers beat an intermittent tattoo against the weathered stone. With a slight shiver, Aurora added another log to the dying fire, trying to ward off a chill of foreboding.
Oh, stop waxing melodramatic!She took a deep breath as flames leapt up from the embers and cast a welcome glow of light over the hearth. The prose—and pictures—of the volume she had been reading were starting to affect her reason. It was time to put such storybook nonsense aside and return to behaving like her normal, sensible self rather than like an impressionable schoolroom miss. Still, the rest of the room seemed shrouded in an ominous gloom and she couldn’t help but slant a nervous glance behind her, half expecting to catch a glimpse of some mad monk skulking in the flickering shadows.
What she did spy, carefully closed with its cords drawn tight, was the bag of Alex’s belongings. Her eyes lingered on the weathered canvas. What secrets lay inside?
What sort of personal matters did he wish to keep hidden away? His reticence was hardly to be wondered at, she supposed,for a man in his profession must learn to be guarded, and that trusting in others could be dangerous.
Her lips quirked up. Rather like herself.
But there were other qualities about Alex that had surprised her. One might have expected a seasoned soldier to be hard and unbending, charging forward with weapons drawn and nary a waver to his step. Yet there was more to him than that. On further acquaintance he had proved to be a man of great complexity, a strange mix of steel tempered with compassion and kindness. Indeed, he seemed to have as many facets as the jewel whose color his eyes so resembled. And as with the precious stone from the East, the light winked and flashed off all his surfaces, but the real essence remained somehow elusive.
A mystery.
