Page 65 of A Night of Forever
No fire had been lit in this room, and the cold made her shiver. Or maybe it was what she was about to do that had her shaking.
She walked over to the large four-poster bed that dominated the room and placed her candle on the small table next to it.
After removing the dust sheet, she saw that the bedspread was a deep, rich burgundy, and when she drew it back the sheets beneath were clean and silky soft. Not damp or musty.
“The maids make up the room every day, hoping I’ll take up residence in my proper place.”
“It is your proper place,” she said, and drew down the quilt.
“You’re making my suspicions rise. Why are you trying to seduce me?”
She jumped. She had not heard Arend come up behind her. His voice was low, dangerous, and his French accent was back—a clear sign he was losing his battle with self-restraint. The grimness of his mouth countered the heat in his eyes. He was warring with himself, and she was about to take the decision from him.
“I’m not seducing you,” she said. “I’m telling you plainly that I want you. No games. I’m pursuing something I want. You.” She ran her hand over the sheets. “I want to know you.”
His mouth twisted. “Letting me bed you won’t help you to know me. Plenty of women before you have tried, and I’m certain they know nothing more about me now except that I can make them feel very, very good.”
A shaft of envy made her clench her fists.
“You are telling me something about yourself even now.” She stopped in front of him.
He shook his head. “I’m telling you your seduction won’t work.”
“No.” She bit her lip and slid her hands up his chest to link them behind his neck. “You’re showing me you are honorable, and that you know I’m not really seducing you for information or for any other reason connected with Victoria.”
He did not try to move out of her arms. “How do you deduce that?”
She wasn’t stupid. “If you thought I was seducing you for nefarious purposes, you would have let me. You would not be concerned about my reputation. But here you are, trying to be noble and ensure I leave here as virginal as when I walked in.”
His lip curled. “If you are testing me, my darling girl, you’re treading on thin ice. I’m not known for denying myself. You are overestimating my honor.”
And he was underestimating it, she thought. She pressed herself against him, overjoyed to feel the hard length of his arousal pressing against her stomach. “What if I no longer care about my reputation?”
This time he did unwind her arms from around his neck. “You don’t want to end up trapped in marriage with me. You want a man who trusts you, who can love you, who will be your friend. I can’t be that man.”
“Not yet. But I have high hopes.” If he heard her quiet murmur, he gave no sign. “Why have you not moved into this bedchamber? It is the master suite, is it not?” He must be punishing himself. Was it all part of his belief that he’d shared in the garden, that his wealth was not truly his? Surely there was no other reason he would keep his home in such a state.
He swung away from her, clearly agitated. “I prefer the room overlooking the road.”
“I don’t think so,” she said softly. “I think you are chastising yourself for something. Something you believe is too dreadful to share with anyone, even your fellow Libertine Scholars.”
His shoulders jerked as though someone had flicked them with a whip. Was she right?
She moved up behind him. “I don’t know what happened, but I do know you are carrying this weight round with you. One day you’ll sink from the burden and never get back up. You have to let someone help carry your troubles, ease them slightly, or the rest of your life will count for nothing. I don’t want to see you punish yourself forever. Nothing will change what has been done, Arend. Feel sorrow, feel regret, but don’t stop your life.”
“God.” The oath exploded out of him. “You’re so bloody innocent. You can’t possibly imagine the things I’ve done.”
“No, I probably can’t.” She turned him round to face her and cupped his chin in her palm. “But I can listen to your fears, sympathize with the difficult choices you must have faced, and hold you in your sorrow and remorse. That’s what a friend does.”
She reached up, standing on tiptoes, and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. “A friend doesn’t judge. A friend listens, consoles, advises, and picks you up when you are at your lowest.” His eyes glittered with emotion, and she could feel the tears behind her eyelids. “Let me be your friend.”
“I’m too ashamed to tell anyone.” The hoarse words, filled with pain, made her even more determined to help him.
She slipped her hand into his and drew him over to the edge of the bed. As they sat, she said, “Well, that’s a relief. Most people are only scared when they have something to lose. It shows you care about something or someone.”
“I care about how my friends view me. The Libertine Scholars.”
“They love you. They would give their lives for you. Surely they would understand—”
