The Vicar's Frozen Heart (17 page)

With a ragged cry she collapsed, laying her head against his chest. They stayed joined, quietly waiting for their breathing to return to normal.

“Trey…my God.”

Yes. He had no words to describe what happened. All restraints were removed and they reveled in their wild passion. Caressing her arm, he realized it wasn’t enough. He wanted more. He wanted it all. But as he calmed the pain returned, and he urged her to lay by his side instead of on top of him. His cock slipped out, and while amazed to find he was still partly hard, he recoiled when he saw the sheath had torn. “Damn.”

Eliza sat up, staring down at his semen beading along the small rip. “Did we do that?”

“It seems so. Or the young lordling bought cheaply made sheaths. We were very…enthusiastic. These things can happen. Looking at the amount of my spend in the sheath, I do not think any traveled far inside you.”

“Trey!” Eliza gasped, clearly shocked at his frank talk.

“Here, remove this.” With a grunt he stood, reaching for the rubbish bin, then held it out to her. He would have to dispose of this later. Certainly did not want the housekeeper finding it. Glancing back at Eliza, he smiled. How gloriously disheveled she looked, holding the blanket to her chin, her hair spilling about her shoulders. Her face was flushed, her lips red from his aggressive kisses. No doubt her breasts were the same. Something hitched and moved in his chest, more ice falling away from his heart, perhaps? An overstatement? Yes and no. Tonight he felt more alive than he had for years. Perhaps ever. He opened the night table drawer, then pulled out one of his handkerchiefs. “Lay down, love. Let me attend you.”

He pulled away the blanket, and again marveled at her astounding body. With a slow gentleness, he wiped between her legs. Perhaps he did not spill much inside her, for he observed no proof beyond her own wetness. The sex untamed enough they split the sheath. A first. After they rested, he wanted to go again. All night.

Eliza’s eyes fluttered shut as she reveled in his touch. What she shared with Tremain. Her experience with William did not even come close to this force or depth of passion. The intimacy of what they did and what Tremain was doing now made her breath hitch.

“Are you in pain?” she asked, worried. She had bounced up and down on top of him quite violently.

“A little. It’s receding now.”

“Was today horrible? And last night?” she whispered.

He tossed the handkerchief on the table and lay next to her, pulling her close so her head rested against his shoulder. “I’ve never seen childbirth go so horribly wrong. Enough to frighten any man from getting his wife with child, I assure you.”

“I heard the gossip from the servants. How dreadfully sad for Mr. Treacher and his daughter,” she said softly.

“The burial was quick. The gravediggers arrived at first light and we had the poor woman and her infant in the ground before noon. Tragic circumstance. I said prayers, offered sympathy and condolence, but ultimately, I don’t believe I helped much.”

Eliza leaned up on her elbow. “That’s not true. I heard you were a great comfort to the poor man.”

“How did you hear that?”

“From Anna. She attended the service with Mr. Dibley. She watched how you comforted the family, and Mrs. Treacher’s sister declared you were a strong and steady presence the night before.”

Tremain scoffed. “Strong and steady? Hardly. I walked into that bedroom and became paralyzed with fear. It was the smell, you see. Rot, blood, and death. It took me back to the Transvaal. That has never happened before in my conscious state. It terrifies me.” He let out a frayed breath and continued. “Perhaps it was a warning or an omen if I believe in such things, telling me I will never be whole.”

Eliza sat upright and shook her head. “No. I do not subscribe to such a theory. How long did the episode last?”

“Not long. I willed it away.”

“There, you see? You cannot allow your fears to take over your life, Trey. The thing is, you didn’t. You fought it. You’ve been through a horrific ordeal due to the Zulu war. It will take time to mend.” She kissed his cheek. “I am glad you shared this with me and told me about your nightmares. Sharing the burden with others is the only way you can move past it. And you will. You’re a strong, compassionate man.”

He gazed up at her. “Am I? Well, if you believe it, then so shall I.”

She lay down again and curled up next to him. “Believe it. And confide in those who care for you. In those who…love you. And I do, Trey.”

The room grew silent. Logs snapping and crackling in the hearth were the only sound.

He lay perfectly still, as if he’d turned to stone. Oh hell, she didn’t mean for those words to slip out yet. She may have mucked things up and…. Tremain pulled her on top of him and gave her a heated kiss. He slipped his tongue inside her mouth and tasted her as his erection grew and pressed insistently against her abdomen. “You love me?” he whispered as he laid hot kisses along her chin to her ear. “Truly love me? This broken, frozen shell of a man?”

“Yes, you annoy me beyond all endurance with your shifting and unpredictable emotions, but I love you all the more for it. Explain that.”

He pulled her close, rolled over, and looked down at her. “For the life of me I cannot explain it. But I embrace it wholeheartedly. You are a brave and beautiful woman, and I absolutely adore you.” He leaned in and whispered, “And I love you with what is left of my heart and soul.”

A surge of happiness tore through her, making her heart thump madly. They kissed, long and deep. Her legs fell apart in invitation, and the head of his stiff cock prodded at her entrance. “Shall we use a sheath?” he murmured.

“No. I want you to come inside me. It should be all right.” Or at least, she thought it was, since she finished her courses a few days ago. Love and desire overrode all common sense, and when he thrust into her with a slick glide, her back arched and she cried out from the sheer joy of him deep inside her, stretching her, loving her. All thoughts of protection vanished.

Wrapping her legs and arms around him, she met every push and slide of his cock and angled her hips upward, which further stimulated her sensitive nub. They rocked in each other’s arms, moaning, kissing, and touching. With a ragged gasp she came, but cried out again moments later when, with one last thrust, he spilled inside her. His body shook for seemingly endless minutes. Then, with a grimace of pain, he rolled off her. With teeth clenched, he fisted the bedding. Glancing down at his right leg, she could see the damaged muscles were pulled taut, the limb rigid and unyielding. “Cramps…Christ, the pain.”

She scrambled out of bed and stepped into her gown. “It will only take me a few moments to do up another mustard plaster.”

“Bring the scotch whiskey. It’s in the parlor,” he groaned.

Running down the hall, Eliza wondered if it would always be like this. Would they only be able to enjoy sex at the expense of his pain? Regardless, she would assist him and do whatever it took to bring him relief. It would not be easy being in love with Tremain Colson, but she would embrace it nonetheless.

* * * *

The jolt of pain hit him minutes after he started thrusting, but for the life of him he could not pull away from her sweet softness regardless of the agony he suffered. Apparently that particular position would have to be forbidden in the future. If they had a future. Admitting their feelings was one thing, but there was much more to reveal and consider. The insistent throbbing scrambled his brain and he could not discuss the particular subject of his identity tonight, at any rate. Eliza loved him. The declaration shocked as well as honored him. Her affirmation sorted his own feelings--feelings he’d been denying for weeks.

Throwing his arm over his eyes, he tried to focus on anything but the pain. Until they thrashed out everything, he should not come inside her again. The risk could be too great. In the past, he never engaged in sex with a woman without being sheathed. Tonight, in the throes of passion, he’d lost his head. Or thought with the wrong one. Regardless of the situation, he should have taken responsibility, for it would now make a thorny situation all the more difficult. Jon warned him his duplicity could cause any number of problems.

But Tremain hadn’t counted on falling in love.

Eliza entered the room. “Lay on your side,” she instructed. He did, and exhaled with relief when the plaster made contact with the hammering ache in his thigh and leg. She scurried from the room and returned with the decanter, then poured him a generous glass of scotch. After he took a large gulp, he hissed through his teeth as the single malt burned a fiery trail down his throat.
Sweet, blessed relief.

“You must think me weak in body as well as mind. It hasn’t been easy. Most times, I feel as if I am standing on the edge of a precipice with only a yawning, dark pit in front of me. When one hovers near such hopelessness, it makes it easy to take that final step and end it. I know of a couple of my fellow soldiers who did exactly that. I don’t condemn them nor think them pathetic.” Tremain took another sip of scotch. “The choice was before me. I wanted to live. To heal. So I entered the church.”
Seems as if I am discussing this--to a point.

“To give back to your fellow man, as you said.”

“Yes.”

“I cannot begin to understand, nor do I think you weak of mind or body. But I wish to do what I can. That’s what people in love do for each other, I believe. Can you tell me of your nightmare?”

Could he? In the dim intimacy of this room, perhaps he could. Tremain didn’t go into any great detail, nor did he reveal his status as a captain, which would raise questions he did not want to answer tonight. He even skimmed over the more gory details of the Battle of Rorke’s Drift, but by the way Eliza’s eyes widened as he spoke, he told her enough to capture the horror of that day.

“What happened after the men carried you out of the hospital?” she asked breathlessly.

“I was propped up by the storehouse, utterly useless for battle, but during my more lucid moments I assisted in handing out ammunition to nearby soldiers. The battle lasted all through the night. Dead bodies lay all around me, yet I managed to survive. The smell of death surrounded me. It was only when Chelmsford’s column could be seen approaching from Isandlwana that the Zulus turned and left.” He snorted. “Because of my injury, I was not at Isandlwana for the brutal slaughter of my fellow soldiers and friends. I carry that guilt. So many killed.”

“But you were not. Thank God.”

“Yes. God. Not sure why I was spared, but I felt honor bound to serve in a way that did not involve killing and war. I’ve had my fill.”

Eliza dashed a tear away from her cheek. “Thank you for telling me.”

“Can you imagine I was put on a list with the rest of the lads from the hospital for a Victoria Cross? I intended to refuse it, but Sir Garnet Wolseley removed my name. He claimed it was monstrous making heroes out of those shut up in a building fighting like rats. Regardless, the others received it and deservedly so.” What Tremain did not reveal is that he and Wolseley despised each other dating back to when he served under him during the Anglo-Ashanti War in 1874. It was the reason he eventually transferred to the 24th Regiment of Foot.

Eliza began to massage his leg so he closed his eyes and relaxed, allowing the heat from the plaster and her intoxicating touch to dull the torturous ache not only in his limb, but in his soul. He’d never told anyone about Rorke’s Drift. Not Jon, nor anyone in his family. And the confession, as it were, lifted a part of the weight from his burden of guilt and remorse. Love was a powerful tool.

“You have yet to tell me anything of your family and past.”

“I will. Soon. It took all I had to reveal this much to you.” He gave her a shaky smile.

She removed the plasters and tossed them in the nearby basin. “Understandable. As for me, you can imagine I was a headstrong girl who spoke my mind, infuriating the nuns to no end.”

He laughed. “Yes, I can well imagine.”

“I made many friends there, but we’ve all lost contact. When you are in a dire situation with others, bonds form. We had quite the tight-knit group. All of us made up stories of what we wished to happen with our lives. It consisted of the usual girlish fantasies of a knight of old or a prince riding up on a magnificent steed to rescue us from poverty and drudgery.” Her eyes twinkled at the memories.

And what of a crippled vicar riding in a rickety wagon?
The question lay on the tip of his tongue, but he decided against voicing it aloud. Yes, a vicar who is not what he seems. “Tight-knit. Soldiers bond for similar reasons.” He caressed her cheek. “And did you dream of a knight or prince?”

A soft laugh escaped her. “Neither. I wanted a tall, burly Highlander or a rugged Viking. I dreamed of wild, long-haired warriors who clasped huge swords and wore furs. Men that would lay down their lives to protect me. But also I wanted those men to be beasts in bed. See to my pleasure but virile enough to handle my passion in return and not feel threatened by it. Truthfully, I’ve had many naughty thoughts from an early age, along with a vivid imagination. I still do.”

“I am eternally grateful for it.” He smiled as he trailed his fingers across her sensual mouth.

She grasped his hand and kissed his palm, then stood. “I should say goodnight. The hour grows late and I should return in case I’m missed.”

Tremain frowned. He didn’t want her to leave. Thanks to the plaster, he felt renewed. Gazing at her standing there in the firelight, he reveled in the way the gown hugged her abundant curves, which sparked his arousal anew. He held on to the bedpost and, using it as leverage, he rose to his feet and turned to face her, naked and erect. “Are you sure you wish to leave at this exact moment?” he said, his voice low and husky.

Eliza smiled and stood before him. “I do not know. Why should I stay?” she teased.

Snaking an arm about her waist, he pulled her close and kissed her hard. She ran her hands through his hair, fisting it as they kissed and their tongues joined. “Get a sheath and I will show you why you should stay a few minutes more.”