Page 74 of The Lover's Eye
Her eyes went downcast in that bashful way that robbed him of breath.But the effect was a little altered just now, with her in only a nightdress and her hair swept around her face and shoulders.The sight made him want to unpin every style he’d ever seen it in … Among other things.
“I’m terribly sorry,” she said.“I can’t remember the last time we had guests stay here.You are welcome to … to share my bed, if you wish.”
He looked at her alertly, noting the way she toyed nervously with her lips, rubbing them together and smoothing her fingers over them.“I did not mean to imply that,” he said, “I apologize for coming to you—”
“Giles, it is fine,” she said, giving a light laugh.“We are married, after all, and I’ll not have you subjected to this, this—what did you call it?”
He smiled in spite of himself.“A very healthy rodent.”
“See?You must stay.”She went to the dressing table.
Giles was mesmerized by the sight of her hair, long and luscious, as she worked her brush through it.It was only when she swept the dark locks over her shoulder and began parting sections with her fingers that Isobel turned to give him a quizzical glance.“What?”
“What?”he echoed.
“You’re glaring like I’ve offended you.”He hadn’t known he’d been giving a look at all.“I saw you, in the mirror.What were you thinking?”
His jaw clenched.“I was only wishing you might leave your hair loose.”
Amusement glimmered in her eyes, and to his delight, her fingers slid free from the braid.“Very well.”
Giles removed his dressing robe and climbed into her bed.The quilts were cold through the thin linen of his nightshirt and drawers, but the bed was infinitely more comfortable than the one he had just vacated.He gave a sigh of relief.
“I realize this house pales next to Cambo House,” she said, slipping into bed beside him with slow, catlike movements.“But I do love it.”
He had to force himself to breathe, to think coherently enough to hold conversation.They were not even touching, but the nearness of her presence, the faint warmth of her body already soothing his cold one, flustered him to his core.
“I enjoy seeing where you’ve grown up,” he said.“Perhaps you can show me around tomorrow, take me for a walk.”
He turned to smile at her, but found Isobel’s features tense.She lay on her back, staring blankly above.“When you came to my door tonight, I first thought you might be … dreaming, again.”
No.He hadn’t walked in his sleep in ages; it was impossible.And yet … The recent nightmare could have been harsh enough to trigger it.
Icy fear permeated his chest.It was horrid to think he might have done or said something to Isobel while unconscious, that a foul interaction could have passed and he’d not even known to address it.“I used to walk in my sleep often, but I—can you tell me what happened?”
“I was making a guess, really,” she said in a small voice.Giles wished he could see her expression, but the bed hangings kept her face from the firelight.“A few nights ago, I couldn’t sleep.I heard you, and I thought you might be … Well, I thought you might be coming to me.”
This revelation should have been welcome news; a reason to soar.But what Isobel said next isolated him, left him to be devoured by his fear.
“But I heard you pass, and I looked.I saw you enter the blue room, Giles.”
“Blue room?”His voice was stern.It was his shock speaking, but he felt her stiffen beside him.
“I don’t know what else to call it.The room you told me was under renovation.”
“I also recall telling you not to enter it,” he bit out.His pulse quickened with anxiety for an event past altering.He felt certain it had occurred on the same night as his nightmare, for he had slept little since.It felt like Isobel was close to exposing some deep and hideous part of himself, that slice he was petrified she might discover.
“You left the door open, Giles, and perhaps if you had not forced me into silence, I wouldn’t have gone in.You think I wouldn’t rather bring my concerns directly to you?That I liked walking into that room a fool, only to learn from Finch it was—washers?”
The tenor of her voice had continued to grow, the warm breath of her outburst brushing against his cheek.He was the ultimate fool.Within five minutes of sharing a bed with his wife, he’d driven her into a bad temper.
“It was never hers, just as nothing at Cambo House ever was, Isobel.Youare my wife, it is you I want to share—”
“Do not attempt to flatter me,” she said, her voice tamped into smooth reserve.“Perhaps I will endure this rodent myself and leave you in peace, lest you push me to break my promise.”
She made to rise, but Giles caught her by the arm.“Isobel,no.”
She stilled beneath his touch, and he gently pulled her back into bed, heaving a great sigh.“Please, stay.”
