Page 49 of Tempting Harriet
Her body sagged into relaxation. “Don’t, Archie.” Her voice was flat devoid of emotion. “Let me go.”
He dropped his arms and took a step back from her. “You came,” he said. “You promised today. Harriet, weneed today.” He reached out both hands to her.
“Today is forbidden,” she said. “Until today we have harmed no one but ourselves. It has always been wrong, butit is only our own moral values and our own sense of rightand wrong that have suffered. Today we harm someoneelse. Today your fidelity is pledged to someone else. Youdo wrong to meet me, and I do wrong, knowing that youbelong to someone else.”
Her face was pale and set. The speech sounded stilted and rehearsed. He guessed that she had been able to persuade herself to come only on the understanding that it wasstrictly to say good-bye.
“I am not married yet,” he said, possessing himself of her hands and tightening his grip when she would have pulledthem away. “It is not forbidden yet, Harriet.”
“A promise to marry is as binding as the marriage vows,” she said. “I came to say good-bye, Archie.” There was momentary pain in her eyes, but she blanked them immediately. She had herself under iron control.
“You could have said good-bye at Barthorpe Hall,” he said harshly. “Or at Lady Sefton’s ball last evening. Youcould have found a moment to say the single word. Youcame here to be alone with me. At least let there be somehonesty between us.”
She raised her chin a little. “Yes,” she said, and reached for something else to say. Obviously she had not preparedan answer for just that charge. Her eyes wavered for a moment. “Yes, you are right. I needed to say it—when wewere alone.”
“A single word?” he said. “You needed this clandestine meeting, this place, this whole afternoon, just to say a single word to me?”
“Yes.” Her eyes filled with sudden tears and she bit her upper lip and dropped her head. “It is not easy, Archie. Iam unaccustomed toaffaires de coeur.I cannot take themlightly.”
“Harriet.” He cupped one palm about her cheek. What had he done to her? God, what had he done in his selfishness? He should have known when she offered herself tohim at Kew that it would tear her conscience apart if hetook her. And now it was too late to correct the error.
She moved forward, as she had done in the garden at Barthorpe Hall, and set her face against his neckcloth. “It isnot easy,” she repeated, her voice high-pitched with emotion. “Please, let us have done, Archie. Take me home.Please take me home.”
It was the only decent thing he could do—take himself out of her life as speedily as he could and give her the onlything that might bring healing to her conscience and heremotions—time. Time without him. He belonged to Phyllis. He should turn and open the door and escort her backdownstairs and into his carriage. He would do it—in just amoment.
“Harriet.” He set a hand beneath her chin, lifted her wet face, and set his mouth, open, over hers. My love. My love.My love.
“Archie.” Her arms were up about his neck, her body pressed to his. “Archie. It is not easy. Oh, please, it is noteasy.”
Yes. It was the only way to say good-bye. With their bodies. With their whole selves. Just once more. And perhaps then he could persuade her to prolong their affair for alittle longer. Until the end of the Season. Until his marriage. She would not have the guilt of adultery on her conscience until his marriage. He was not married yet. Yes,this was the only way.
He heard a button thud onto the carpet as he pulled ungently at the opening at the back of her dress. She was sobbing against his mouth. Her arms had a stranglehold about his neck. He stooped down and scooped her up into hisarms. He undressed her when she was lying on the bed,dragging her clothes down over her body, flinging themover the foot of the bed. He tore off his own clothing andcame down on top of her, into her reaching arms. He foundher mouth with his again, pressed his knees between herthighs and pushed them wide, slid his hands beneath her,and thrust deeply into the welcoming soft heat of her.
Harriet.My love. He could not lose her. He would not lose her. He needed her as he needed the air he breathed.He lay still in her, his mouth covering hers. She was his.They belonged together. This was not good-bye. She mustfeel it too. He lifted himself onto his elbows and smileddown at her, resisting the urge to begin moving in her,bringing them both to the climax that was not far off. Herface was wet and reddened with tears.
“It need not end yet,” he said. ‘‘There can be many more times before we need say good-bye. Does that feel good?”He stroked her once and paused again. “Tell me it feelsgood.” He lowered his head to touch his lips softly to hers.
Her eyes filled with tears again. “You are not even an honorable man,” she said. “I thought at least you were anhonorable man.”
A stinging slap across the face or a pail of cold water thrown over him could not have been more effective. Helooked down at her for one frozen moment and then withdrew from her body and rolled off the bed. He dressedquickly, his back to her. She did not move.
“Get dressed,” he told her. He could hear the coldness in his voice. “Get dressed before I turn around. I might betempted to continue my rape of you.”
He did not turn until he was sure she had clothed herself. Her face was set and pale again when he did so, with tracesof redness from the tears.
“It was not rape, Archie,” she said. “I consented.”
He hated her suddenly and quite unreasonably. And hated himself. No, only himself. He loved her. And yetwhen he spoke he lashed out at her. “Yes,” he said. “Itseemed to me that you did, Harriet. You came here to beraped, did you not? So that you could have your final forbidden piece of pleasure without the guilt. No, you say, andthen yes, and no when your body is mounted and it seemstoo late. Were you glad that I am without honor? Were youdisappointed when I did not give you what you were askingfor? You spoke too soon, Harriet. You could have had yourthrill and your little moment of righteousness too if you hadwaited until after I had spilled into you.”
“You are no gentleman,” she said.
He laughed. “Men without honor rarely are,” he said. “But you have known that fact about me for six years, Harriet. Gentlemen do not take ladies to bed without first making them marriage vows, do they? Or not in your prudishlittle world, anyway. Did you hope until the last possiblemoment that I would make you those vows after all? Youare naive, my dear. Men do not marry for what is voluntarily and eagerly given free of charge.”
He could not believe what he was saying. He watched her eyes widen in shock and bewilderment and wanted tohurt her more. Because he was hurting. He knew what washappening, knew himself for the blackguard he was, andcould seem to do nothing to stop himself. He was angry andupset and hurting—and full of self-loathing.
“Good-bye, your grace,” she said, moving suddenly in the direction of the door. “I shall walk home.”
“The devil.” He caught none too gently at her arm. “Men without honor still like to pretend in public that they aregentlemen, ma’am. I shall escort you home. You will bequite safe with me, I assure you. I usually attempt rape onlyonce in an afternoon.”
