Page 62 of A Gentleman's Wife

Chapter Twenty-Seven

The flames in the fireplace danced happily, as if mocking Thomas in his misery.

The rest of his study was dark and quiet, but the forefront of his mind was filled with loud racing thoughts and bright vivid memories that kept him wide awake. He could still feel the urgency of Marianne’s kiss, the rush of her breath around him, her hands against his skin, followed by the devastation when she walked away. Her departure had crushed him. He loved his wife more than he knew how to express. And those kisses she had bestowed upon him had provided him a glimpse of what he assumed were her desires, of just how perfect their future could be together. A nagging disappointment lingered, suggesting that she’d only wanted to satisfy her curiosities, but he told himself it was ridiculous. She was not Lady Slanton. He simply needed to be patient, but the rejection still stung. He had wrestled with his thoughts and emotions until the sun disappeared, and now he only had the light of fire dancing across the wall to keep him company.

“Thomas?”

The sweet voice of his wife filled the study from the doorway. He looked up, his heart melting all over again. She wore her night dress, with a shawl over her shoulders, and her hair in a loose braid hanging to one side. If she was determined to undo his self-control, she certainly knew how to go about it.

“Come in, Marianne.” He hoped his voice was calm and not harsh, for he was far beyond simply tired.

She closed the door behind her and moved to stand before him, but he could only bring himself to look at her feet. “You didn’t come to dinner, and you weren’t in your room. I wasn’t sure if you still… wanted me there, or if I should seek out one of the guest bedrooms.”

“I took dinner here, as I had some business to finish. And there’s no need for you to use a guest bedroom. You’ll stay in my bedchambers, and I’ll stay here tonight. The repairs to your room should be finished within a few days.”

When she didn’t respond right away, he looked up to meet her gaze. Her pale blue eyes now sparkled with determination and something new he couldn’t quite identify. Her chest rose and fell with steady breathing until she finally said, “Are you angry with me?”

Her words drew him to his feet immediately. “No, of course not.” He reached out, intending to put his hands on her shoulders, but he hesitated. “Marianne, you’ve done nothing wrong.”

“Even though I asked you for a kiss?”

Thomas swallowed hard. “I want you to always come to me, especially for that.” He gave her a hesitant smile and tipped her chin with his forefinger. “And everything else in time, when you’re ready.”

“I am ready.”

Those three words silenced him, bringing his heart to racing speeds, until all he heard was the pounding in his chest and the crackling of the fire.

“Are you certain?” he asked.

She nodded stiffly.

“You have nothing to fear from me,” Thomas whispered, taking a step to place his hands on her shoulders.

“I don’t fear you.” Her lips pursed together, and she couldn’t meet his gaze. “My one fear has been the same since I arrived…”

Thomas blinked, listening intently. Had he been ignorant of his wife living in fear under his own roof?

Her eyes took on a teary sheen. “Is it all right that I’m not everything you deserve in a wife?”

“What?” he asked incredulously.

“You are so good, Thomas, and you deserve everything good in return. A woman without flaws, a woman who is socially refined and effortlessly beautiful. Not someone with this hand, or these scars, or this illness. I know I’m lacking, and I’m imperfect, but––”

Thomas silenced her with a kiss, wanting somehow to evict all the fear and shame and doubt from her soul, and fill it with every ounce of adoring love he felt. His heart broke, unable to hear her speak so of herself when he loved her so entirely. He couldn’t change her body, and he couldn’t change her past, but he could change her future and help her understand that she would only be loved and adored for the rest of her life.

When he pulled away, a tear slid down her cheek, but the pain in her eyes had eased.

“You are not your struggles, my darling,” Thomas whispered. “They are merely one portion of the beautiful tapestry that makes you who you are. Nothing about you could ever turn me away.”

Her lips quivered. “Truly?”

“Truly.” Thomas eyed her hairline, spotting the scar she had shown him before. Leaning forward, he pressed his lips there, then to the scar on the curve of her nose. Then lifting her chin, he kissed the scar on her jaw as she let out an unsteady breath.

The shawl wrapped around her long forgotten, Thomas brushed it aside, along with the fabric of her night dress, revealing the pale skin of her shoulder and the lifted scars there. They were more noticeable than the others, and his heart ached for her as he brushed his fingers over the marks from her past, what she had suffered throughout her life. He found himself leaning toward her and pressed his lips to the skin of her shoulder.

“Thomas.” Marianne’s voice broke over the single word, bringing his attention back to her face.

Thomas let out a deep breath, pressing his forehead against hers and meeting her eyes in the darkness. “Every inch of you is worthy of love, and I intend to prove it to you.”

She blushed a bright red and looked to the floor, but Thomas would not allow it. With one swift movement, he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her against him, covering her mouth with his. She responded immediately, her right hand wrapping around his back, with her left hand pressed to his cheek. It encouraged him further, coaxing her into a deeper kiss, nearly blinded by his desire for her. His only wish for her was to know the reality of his feelings for her.

When he finally had to fight for breath, Thomas pulled back and let out a sigh on her lips. “Will you be my wife, Marianne? In every sense? Will you be mine tonight?”

She swallowed before nodding. “Yes.”

He took her by the hand, brushing his thumb over the back of it. “Do you trust me?”

She reached out to touch his face again, and with a steady gaze of pearly blue, she said, “You’re the only man in the world I trust.”

The words sealed his heart as hers entirely and completely. He covered her mouth with his, a promise that she would not regret her decision to trust him. With one arm behind her back and the other scooping under her knees, Thomas carried her out of the study and up the stairs to his bedchambers, where he planned to show Marianne just how much he truly loved her.

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