Absolute Surrender (44 page)

So she was well.

Charles stepped away from her, and she stilled, looking off over the cliffs. Hugh could feel the tension from even this distance. They pulled at him, Charles and Amelia, as though he were
fettered
to the both of them, some invisible rein that refused to break and would not allow him to simply leave.

But leave he must. Hugh pounded his forehead against the stiff bark of the tree. He must leave. He could not go back. He knew the next time he saw Charles the man was likely to destroy him physically, as much as he was already destroyed emotionally.

Hugh had had his chance. He
’
d tasted his future, but all he had seen was that it would lead to his pain, and he was too much the coward to see it through. This had been coming for years, even if he had refused to accept it.

Hugh turned, leaned against the tree for another moment, listened to the sound of her on the wind, the sound of Charles. The small banter.

Amelia
will
be fine.
She will be fine.
He chanted it in his head, because he had to convince himself of this.
Amelia will be fine.
Even as all indications—everything he knew of her, all of their past together—told him something different.

He had to return to London, do all the things that he said he was going to London to do. At least keep that much of his word. He wanted to return and hold her until she forgot what he had done.

Hugh pushed himself away from the tree and disappeared into the forest.

“I
’
ve never felt this...I don
’
t know what to call it. I
’
ve always believed that I loved you, or at least, I convinced myself of it because it was necessary. But, this…when you touch me it…it awakens me…places in me I never knew were sleeping. That sounds a bit trite, does it not?” Amelia said as Charles wrapped her shawl around her shoulders. “Thank you for chasing it.”

“You
’
re welcome. I would hate to lose it. It
’
s a perfect color on you. Particularly when you laugh and your cheeks go all rosy. Like this.” Charles reached out to caress her cheek, then drew his hand back and left it suspended between them for what seemed, to her, forever. His fingers curled in on his palm, and he waited.

Amelia turned to the cliffs and watched the distant waves for a time. She loved this. Had always loved this, but now it felt, somehow, different. Why should it feel different? This had always been hers. It would always be hers…
But Hugh had always been a part of it as well.

“Amelia?”

“Charles, I want for you to touch me. Please.”

She turned to find Charles had moved away—she hadn
’
t realized. But he turned and gazed
at her
. It was not quite what she was expecting after saying something like that to a man, but that
’
s what he did. He watched. So she smiled, and she waited. “
Charles, I
—”

“
No, Amelia, don’
t—”
Charles
took a step back toward her and lifted his hand again, cupped her cheek. She felt the warmth of that hand to her toes and closed her eyes as his thumb traced the ridge of her cheek just below her eye. She breathed deeply of the forest and fields. She felt him move, and her mind stilled.

“
Mon Dieu
,
” Charles whispered.

Her lips parted, and Charles’s hand at her back drew her in to meet him, the kiss more sweet than sensual, more staid than passionate.

She opened her eyes and gazed up at him as he kissed her, his hand moving to the back of her neck, his mouth on her mouth,
his mouth
. That thought made her twitch, and his eyes snapped open as he drew back.

“Amelia. This is well outside the range of possibility, I fear. We shouldn
’
t,”
Charles sai
d.

“I want…” She drew her eyebrows together, let the tension rest there in her forehead, sink into her mind, and start a whirlwind of sensation. “
Charles, I
…I
’
m nervous, but I trust you.”

He frowned.

“Charles, kiss me again, please.”

Charles seemed to recognize something in her eyes, then his chest quickly inflated and deflated against her. He shook his head, “
I just
…I need to wait a bit longer. I need to get my bearings. Today has been a bit much for us. I need to be sure…”

She wrapped her hands around his forearms, leaned into his chest. “I understand. What Hugh did…he hurt us both.” Then she turned and pulled him toward the cliffs, watching the sun as it sank against the ocean.

“It
’
s truly beautiful out here,”
Charles said.

She knew he was avoiding discussion. They walked the path at the edge of the cliff, far enough back that they were safe, but could still hear the ocean throwing itself at the base.

Amelia shivered and moved closer to Charles. Shivers meant so many things, and she wasn
’
t sure what this one signaled. Fear? A chill?

Charles wrapped his arm around her shoulders, and she sank into him. They walked quietly along the cliffs for a while, and when the light changed, they turned back for the house.

“You must be starving. It
’
s been a long day, and you
’
ve eaten nothing since yesterday,” Charles said as he rubbed circles into her back.

“I very much doubt my stomach could handle food…” Her voice faded, and she shook her head, and he watched as her gaze drifted once again.

“Amelia, my love, come back to me,” Charles said quietly.

He saw the blush spread like a slow tide moving just below the surface of the sand, growing and retreating incrementally.

The sound of her stomach growling broke his concentration.

“Oh, I beg your pardon. I...well. I suppose perhaps I could eat.”

“Very well then,” Charles said. He put her hand on his arm, and they moved toward the house.

Charles washed his hands under the pump, then splashed water on his face, noting that it had a slight salty tang to it because they were so close to the sea.

He pulled a basket from the stone box by the door used to protect deliveries from the elements and scavengers. Charles took it inside and found Amelia wrapped up in that throw, sitting in the chair by the fire. He put the basket on the table, then went and knelt before her.

Charles was afraid to touch her—but simply could not resist. His knees were on both sides of her feet, and he put his hands on her ankles, slowly stroking the soft skin just above her boots.

“Amelia, sweet,” Charles said quietly.

She turned from the darkened embers and looked at him, her eyes nearly vacant she was so lost in thought.

“Hugh—” She stopped, and he waited patiently. “He
’
s hurting.”

This was something Charles had not considered. “That does not excuse his choice today,”
Charles
whispered, desperately checking his temper.

“You don
’
t know him as I do,” she said.

Charles was still very concerned about pushing her, but she wished to talk, and so talk they would, for as long as she seemed able.

“
I don’
t know him like you, this is true, but I do know what we decided. I do know that he said he would do whatever you needed of him. I do know that he made certain promises, not only to you…but to me. I do know he went back on all of those things.”

“Pain…fear…these are the greatest of motivators. Hugh will never be bound to us in the way we will be bound to each other. There would be nothing for him if something happened between the three of us. He would be ruined. In every way. His inheritance requires marriage of him.” She looked to Charles.

“I had not thought…we hadn
’
t even discussed that far. I assumed we would…instead, he walked away without so much as a word. I trusted—” Charles stopped the thought. This pain wasn
’
t for him. He was here for Amelia. What Hugh had done, he
’
d done to her.

She looked at him carefully, then continued. “As well, while you could protect
me
from rumors, you would be powerless to protect him. What could you say?” she whispered.

She was absolutely right, but, again, these things needed to be dealt with, not run from. “Are you wishing for me to forgive him?” Charles asked, shaking his head. Forgiveness wasn
’
t in him. Forgiveness required something of him that simply wasn
’
t there, hadn
’
t been there. Had it? He and Hugh…they were just acquaintances, sometimes enemies. Weren
’
t they? Two men with a common goal. That
’
s it. Charles wanted to know why she was defending Hugh after what he
’
d done.

“I—” She looked him in the eye then. “
I don’
t know what I wish for. But what happened here today was very unlike him.”

Charles leaned forward, resting his forehead against her knees, and felt her hand tangle in his hair. It had seemed to him that this was not at all the Hugh he
’
d come to know in the past few days either, but the cold, heartless part? He
’
d known that Hugh before. He
’
d met with him often when they were younger. Part of Charles had expected this from Hugh, even as he had trusted him implicitly. He couldn
’
t lie about this, not to himself. Certainly, he
’
d trusted Hugh with all his heart.

Charles and Amelia stayed like that for a time, his forehead on her knees, his hands traveling up her calves from her ankles, then back down. Then she tugged, and he lifted his head. She cupped his chin.

“I know this is difficult for you. I know…forgiveness is often dependent on love, and that
’
s something you
’
re unfamiliar with.”

Charles drew a slow breath.
Love
. He didn
’
t know what love was, did he? He didn
’
t love Hugh, certainly. Perhaps he cared deeply for Amelia, but for Hugh? No, but he would allow Amelia some leeway in this discussion.

“And I know, Amelia, that of all people in this world you trusted him more than anyone. Hugh should not have broken that trust,” Charles replied. He didn
’
t like this. He felt very uncomfortable with all this talk of feelings. At some point, that raw new edge of his that had only just begun to open had closed again, seared with anger. It was the moment Hugh left.

“No.” She let her hands fall to her lap, and Charles shook his head. It was as though the light had left her eyes, and he wasn
’
t sure how to return it.

Charles considered all that she
’
d said. He wanted to destroy Hugh, pull him limb from limb, physically, mentally. In every way a man could be crucified, Charles wished to see it done. Not merely destroyed on this earth, but everywhere. Could Charles forgive him? But this assumed he cared for him, something Charles wasn
’
t sure he could admit to. He knew that Amelia wanted Charles to simply leave Hugh be, or find some semblance of forgiveness for his actions, but Charles intended to destroy Hugh and never speak on it. Charles groaned against the thought. He was suddenly unsure whether he could do that to Hugh or to Amelia—and what did that mean for him?