Page 27 of How to Tempt An Earl
‘She died. Caine found us both on the floor,’ he said quietly. Celeste made the translation in her head: the woman had not simply died, he’d killed her. He’d been forced to for his own survival and for England’s. She kept the automatic words of sympathy to herself. He would not want her to be sorry any more than she’d wanted his pity. But she did want him to know she understood the import of his story and how that episode had shaped who he was. His disclosure had not been in vain.
‘And since then, you don’t mix business with pleasure,’ she murmured. More particularly, since then he hadn’t trusted women who were in the game. Or, perhaps it was that he didn’t trust himself with women who were in the game. She traced his scar. No wonder he’d originally thought she was working for Roan, trying to draw him into a trap. He’d been trapped before by a pretty face. How hard it must be for him now, to let go of that narrative of deceit and embrace a narrative of trust with her, and her heart went out to him. She understood; they were alike in that regard. As much as she wanted to earn his trust, she was reluctant to give him her own. They had that in common.
‘The aftermath was the worst part. It took a long time for me to recover. I’d lost a lot of blood. When I was well, I was hailed by those who knew as a hero for saving English lives, for helping to secure an Allied victory by protecting the plans. Parties were held for me. Not one person mentioned why I’d been knifed in the first place. No one talked about my mistake. No one would listen when I tried to explain what had really happened. That’s the guilt I live with. For being careless, I was lauded as a hero.’
He was silent for a long moment and she wondered if he was thinking about other guilt—perhaps guilt over his missing or dead brother. Was there something he could have done? He blinked once, a long, slow sweep of his dark lashes as if he was putting the memory behind him.
‘My turn,’ Kieran said, and something in his tone made her brace. ‘You know who hurt me. Now, tell me who hurt you. And, before you try to throw me off the scent, don’t tell me Cabot Roan or Ammon Vincent. That’s not the hurt I’m talking about.’
‘What makes you think there’s any other hurt?’ She prevaricated with as much persuasive calm as she could manage. He was just guessing. How could he know? She kept it buried deep.
‘Because you use freedom as shield. Just like you’re doing now. Stay here beside me, Celeste. Don’t move away.’ She hadn’t even realised she’d tried to move away until his arm tightened around her. ‘You’re protecting yourself, keeping yourself from getting too close or from giving up too much of yourself. You call it choosing, controlling your own destiny. But really, you worry about giving yourself up to the wrong person. One only worries about such things when one has already done it. Who was he?’
‘You already know; you’ve said as much. Someone I thought I could trust; someone whom I thought cared for me.’ She shrugged and fought the urge to break free or slink off to the far side of the bed and hide in all ways. ‘There’s nothing left to tell.’
He laughed against her hair. ‘That tactic did not work for me. I am certainly not going to let it work for you. Celeste, youcantell me. I thought you’d decided that you were safe with me,’ he scolded.
It wasn’t him knowing that bothered her. It was what it might reveal about her—that she wasn’t strong like him, that she’d been selfish. But she drew a breath and took the chance.
‘He was a new client of Cabot Roan’s when I first came to live at the house. He was handsome and dashing. He always made time for me. After he’d conducted business with Roan, he made a point of seeking me out. I was young and flattered.’
It hurt to talk about this. Had it felt this way for Kieran? She regretted making him tell her about the scar…almost. Perhaps she’d treasure what she’d learned all the more for the price it cost.
‘He was my first kiss, and my first love. He seduced me most thoroughly. I thought he might even marry me.’ She’d believed that so wholeheartedly, she’d gone to bed with him and made a habit of what she’d thought were lazy, decadent, stolen afternoons with him when Roan was out. ‘But, as in your story, not all was as it seemed. He wasn’t a client at all. He was a test of my loyalty to Roan and I failed. Roan told me that he was going to take David’s—’
She swallowed. It was still hard to say his name years later. Kieran was patient with her, saying nothing and running his hand in a gentle motion down her arm, steadying her.
‘Roan told me he was going to overcharge David for an order of weapons by making it appear that there was another buyer. At that point, I had become aware of Roan’s deceits and of what he did to amass his wealth. I told David. I thought I could trust him with that information. I could not. He’d been working for Roan all along. David turned on me without any remorse and then Roan knew how much I despised him and what I was willing to do to spite him, to rebel. Things became infinitely more difficult for me after that.’
Roan had punished her.
‘In what ways?’ Kieran prompted gently.
‘Do not make me say, Kieran. Please.’ Roan had humiliated her in front of his men and it hadn’t stopped there. She reached for him beneath the covers, thinking to distract him, but he was too fast.
‘Keep your secrets.’ Kieran covered her hand and set it aside. ‘Sex can be a tool, a weapon even, butwewill not use it between us as such. Isn’t that why you wanted it to be tonight—because tomorrow it’s back to the real world?’ Because tomorrow they’d be at Wrexham. Tomorrow she’d need to surrender part of the list. Drat him for seeing too much. ‘Circumstances may shift tomorrow, but not us. We can choose to be honest with each other. We can choose who we get to be.’
‘And tonight?’ she queried softly. ‘Are you still my man?’ Or had her disclosure changed his mind about that? Their stories had striking similarities but there was one key difference: she’d shown herself to be untrustworthy, even if it was on Roan’s behalf, whereas he’d shown himself to be eminently reliable. In the face of danger and death, he’d not failed.
He rolled her beneath him, looking down at her, his dark curls tousled and his eyes once more dark with desire. ‘I am always your man and this time we’re going to take it slow.’
Chapter Fourteen
Wrexham Hall came slowly into view as the overgrown trees of the lime alley gradually gave way to a wider, open space set before the red-bricked Tudor home Kieran had inherited with his title. Just a little further, and they’d be able to see it in full.
‘The trees have been neglected,’ Kieran groused, eyeing the lime alley with disappointment. The branches had grown overhead until the two sides had joined, forming a full, dense canopy.
‘They’re good trees,’ Celeste commented. ‘Look how thick those trunks are, and how sturdy the branches. A boy would love to climb up them.’
They’d been doing this all morning since they’d left the inn—commenting on their new surroundings for conversation. They’d crossed over the border into Wales amid a mist that had them discussing how the air felt as if autumn had arrived overnight. They’d made the short journey to Wrexham, noting how its unique topography contributed to the thriving town, set as it was between the Dee Valley and the Welsh mountains. The town itself had offered endless conversational openings as they’d passed St Giles church and the storefronts on the main street that promised an enjoyable shopping trip in the near future. What they didn’t talk about, however, was what lay between them or last night.
Kieran understood the reason for it. Last night had been a moment out of time. Their lovemaking had reflected that in its fierceness, its tenderness and in the disclosures it had engendered. He was still reeling from it this morning. Never had he shared so much with another orwantedto. But Celeste had a way of pulling one’s secrets out with her quiet questions, her calm demeanour and her empathy.
Now that the journey was nearly done, the carriage grew quiet, their stream of trivial conversation sputtering. He’d chosen to ride inside with her, wanting to keep their presence as anonymous as possible until decisions could be made about next steps. That was the other reason they’d tacitly opted to bury the morning in small talk—there were decisions to make, and difficult discussions to have. Whatdidcome next? Would she stay here with him at the Hall? If she stayed, how would that work? Or would he find a way to help her disappear safely into the mist, where Roan couldn’t find her?
He knew what he’d prefer—that she stayed—and he knew why. In part it was because he’d be able to better protect her if she was with him. But that wasn’t the entire reason. He simply wasn’t ready to let her go. He wanted more nights like last night. He wanted more time with her. It was selfish, given that even more time with her would come to an end. He could not keep her. The concept sounded immature and childish: one did not ‘keep’ another person. One especially did not keep Celeste, who’d already endured life as Roan’s very kept ward. She would not appreciate the tenor of his thoughts.
Kieran slid a glance in her direction while she was busy peering out of the window at the lime alley. She would want to go; he was certain of it.
