Page 83 of Never Leave Me
Her apology made him feel worse. “You’ve nothing to fret about, love. You’re an angel and always have been.”
“That’s not true. I was selfish then, and now I’ve selfishly dragged you into my life once more.” Her voice wobbled.
He reached out to comfort her but then pulled his hand back, afraid of touching her again while together in the bed. Instead, he pushed himself up, walked to the closet, and stared into the darkness.
“We’re best friends.” He forced the words he knew she’d want to hear. “And friends do hard things for each other.”
She was silent for several heartbeats before whispering again. “If we get out of 1382, I promise I’ll never put myself into a situation where we have to pretend to be a couple again. It’s not fair to you.”
Her promise should have brought him comfort. She was finally recognizing how difficult the innocent pretending was on him. But somehow, he was only filled with a deep sadness that an unbridgeable gap still existed between them and was perhaps even wider than ever.
21
HERWEDDINGNIGHT.It wasn’t anything like Ellen had imagined it would be. Not that she’d ever imagined it. At least not often.
With a sigh, she tried to expel the desire pulsing through her veins. But she couldn’t, not with the imprint of Harrison’s lips still upon her skin.
His lecture about friendship had put her swiftly in her place, reminding her of what she wanted from their relationship. Only she wasn’t so sure that’s what she wanted anymore. But like everything else she’d done, asking him for more would have been selfish. Especially considering his revelation that he was content with being a bachelor and hadn’t ever seen himself having a wife or children.
She’d wanted to tell him that she appreciated his maturity and argue that age didn’t have to be a factor in a relationship. But where could such a conversation go?
From across the room, he released a tense breath. It reminded her of the way his labored breathing had caressed her skin and mouth just moments ago. It would be easy to invite him back, totell him she wasn’t pretending any more, that she wanted to kiss him because she cared.
Pinching her eyes closed, she dug her fingers into the flimsy mattress to keep herself from turning over and holding out her arms to him. She couldn’t. He’d made it clear this wasn’t a real marriage to him, that he hadn’t meant the vows.
At the sound of voices in the hallway, Harrison quickly crossed back to the bed. She tensed, her nerves tightening with anticipation of him climbing in beside her again. If he so much as grazed her, she doubted she’d be able to hold back from rolling against him and kissing him again.
His breathing was soft but labored above her. But he didn’t lower himself. Instead, when the voices went away, she could hear him situating himself into the chair next to the bed.
Her grip against the mattress tightened, and she lay awkwardly, her heart pounding a demanding rhythm, one she needed to ignore.
He remained quiet.
“You should have the bed,” she whispered. “I’ll sleep in the chair.”
“No.” His answer came quickly and was low and hoarse. “Let’s stay where we’re at and try to sleep.”
She wanted to roll over and take him in, study his features, let herself ogle him in his half-clad state. But she couldn’t. She had to think of what he wanted and needed instead of giving way to her own impulsive and selfish desires.
Long minutes passed, and as her breathing evened, she let her clutch on the mattress loosen. And as drowsiness began to settle, she told herself she’d done the right thing in keeping their relationship from progressing down a road neither of them were ready for.
Finally, she dozed, and by the time she awoke, Harrison wasgone. She called her maidservant and inquired after him, only to find that Will, Harrison, and a small group of witnesses to the wedding—including the priest—had ridden out at daybreak to Canterbury to meet with the archbishop and assure him of the legitimacy of Ellen’s marriage to Harrison.
They returned at midday with news that though Lord Worth was contesting Lady Ellen’s marriage, there wasn’t much more he could do, especially since the archbishop had no choice but to accept the union. With the threat of conflict abated for the time being, the men closeted themselves in Will’s antechamber and plotted the takeover of the wellspring at St. Sepulchre.
Ellen spent much of the day with Marian and baby Ellie. When both succumbed to sleep, she wandered from the room and found her dad leaving the planning meeting. She offered to catch a breath of fresh air with him at the top of the hall tower on the east side of the manor.
With the afternoon sunshine warming them, they stood side by side, peering through the crenels and taking in the rolling countryside covered in woodland intermingled with a patchwork of meadows. Sheep grazed on a distant hill with a winding brook in the valley. The profusion of May wildflowers turned portions of the bright green into a calico dotted with white and yellow.
The view took her breath away, so different from the urban development of modern times, especially the thick Weald. Will had explained that the forestland stretched for one hundred and twenty miles long and thirty miles wide through portions of Kent, Sussex, and Surrey with all manner of hardwoods. Surprisingly absent were most varieties of pine and fir, which apparently had yet to be introduced to England.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Dad’s voice contained reverence.
“Sometimes it’s difficult to believe this is Kent.”
“It certainly has changed ... like all things must.”
She had the feeling he wasn’t talking about the landscape. She slanted a look at him, but he was still staring out.
