Sweet Awakening (2 page)

She would never have wanted to hurt Lucy. Why would Lucy want to hurt her? Why would anyone want to torment anyone, for that matter? And so she stood mute and passive as Giles brushed the mud off her dress. And it was that very muteness and lack of reaction that made Lucy want to dump another basket of worms on her. How could she just stand there and not fight back? Not say something? Not reveal what a witch, she, Lucy, had been these past weeks? Clare stood there, with that pathetic wounded look in her eyes, as Giles comforted her. Why, it was just as though she were asking for it!

And so, when Giles led Clare over to the stream to clean off her hands, Lucy couldn’t help herself. She pushed Clare in, saying: “There, you great baby, that will clean you off!”

The stream was shallow, and there was no real danger, as both Giles and Lucy knew. In fact, Clare was already scrambling to her feet by the time Giles recovered from his surprise and waded in to “save” her. But the look of distaste on his face when he turned back to Lucy overwhelmed her, and she choked back a sob of anger and grief, grabbed her pole and basket, and walked off without a backward glance.

Sabrina watched her go, glad that Giles had at last seen the real Lucy. She liked their old playmate but had been rather worried that once she set her heart on Giles, she would somehow finally get him. After all, many a match was made in the country before a girl even got to London for a Season. She turned back to her brother, who had stripped off his shirt and was wrapping it around a bedraggled and dripping Clare. Sabrina wondered as she walked over to comfort their new friend, if perhaps Lucy had a reason to be jealous after all.

* * * *

That first summer set the pattern for the next four. Clare would arrive at the beginning of July and stay for six weeks. Clare became more sure of herself after the obvious warmth of her welcome back the second year. She became more of an equal as the years went by and the difference in their ages meant less, but she never lost her admiration for Sabrina’s spirit or her affection for Giles as her “Galahad.”

Giles was her hero, ever since that first summer when he had finally seen Lucy Kirkman for what she was. He had saved Clare from her tormentor, threatening Lucy with immersion in the manure pile if she ever hurt Clare again, leaving Lucy cowed and distantly friendly to Clare, ever since.

* * * *

Giles was also her friend. He and she could talk about books for hours. And, she eventually realized, Giles was becoming something more.

It happened the last summer they were all together, the summer before Giles was to go up to university. It was the end of August, and the three of them had planned to go berrying on Clare’s next to last day. But that morning Sabrina sent word through her abigail that the summer cold she had been fighting had finally won, and she was going to spend the day in bed. So Giles and Clare went alone, after an early breakfast.

It was a glorious day. The heat of the past week had been broken by an evening thunderstorm, and everything was made fresh and green and sparkling again, as though it were June, not August. As they walked to the raspberry thicket, Clare and Giles chatted easily, and perhaps nothing would have changed, were it not for the fox.

Giles saw her first, a quivering flame weaving herself in and out of the raspberry brambles. He stopped and put his hand on Clare’s arm. “Look, Clare,” he whispered.

Giles had touched her before, she was sure. He must have over the years. Then why did it feel as though this was the first time? They stood very still, and Giles kept his hand on her arm the whole time they watched the vixen make her way so close to them. Then, at the same moment it seemed, Giles became aware of where his hand was, and the fox became aware of them and was gone in a moment, leaving them each flustered by the physical intimacy.

“Well, that is something that Sabrina will be sorry she missed,” said Giles nervously, bringing his sister into the conversation as though that would make her physically present.

“It was wonderful, Giles,” said Clare, and she was not sure whether she meant the sight of the fox or the sensation of his touch.

It was a black raspberry bramble, and the fruit sparkled garnet and onyx. Every leaf, every tiny hair on every berry leaped out at Clare in detail, so awake and aware was she. As she picked, she put a few ripe berries in her mouth and tasted rain and sun and sweetness.

“Now, Clare, save some for Mrs. Pleck, or we will have no raspberry crumble for tea,” teased Giles as he popped a berry into his own mouth.

Clare watched his arm reach out. She had never noticed before how brown his arms were in the summer and how the hair on them was bleached gold by the sun. He was wearing a light cotton shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and as he reached again, she could see his arm muscles ripple. She was so flustered by the languorous feeling that was stealing over her that she thrust her arm in to reach for a cluster of ripe berries and jerked it back with a low cry.

Giles was at her side immediately. “You have to go slowly and carefully, Clare,” he said sympathetically as she looked at her arm. One scratch was deep, and the beads of blood welling up looked like tiny berries. Giles patted her arm gently with the tail of his shirt while Clare protested.

“Close your eyes, Clare, and open your mouth,” he chanted the old childhood charm, “and I will give you something to make you feel better.”

Clare tilted her face toward him. Giles placed a few ripe berries on her tongue, and just as she closed her mouth over them and began to open her eyes, he leaned over and kissed her.

Although it was a soft and gentle kiss, the intensity of their feelings surprised them both. Giles drew back immediately, embarrassed and ashamed. Clare was only fourteen, hardly out of childhood, although her body was beginning to look like a woman’s, he realized, as for the first time he took in the soft curves of her.

When she opened her eyes, he stammered something about how his mother would always tell him as a child that a kiss would make it better, trying to put the moment in a safe and familiar context.

“But I am sorry, Claire, I should not have done that.”

Clare wondered at his apology. She supposed he was right; he should not have kissed her. Giles had surprised her, but she had also surprised herself. She would have had the kiss go on longer, with the sun beating down upon them and the sweet berry juice running down her throat and the soft pressure of Giles’s lips making her feel as wet and juicy as a berry itself.

They filled their pails quickly, and by the time they reached Whitton, their everyday camaraderie had reasserted itself. But when Clare returned home to Rowland, she was very happy to think about her parents’ comments over the past two years. “It would be an ideal match,” her father had told her mother.

And so, although the regular visits came to an end that summer, she kept up a correspondence with Sabrina and the two families sometimes got together for a holiday. There was no formal agreement, but it was assumed by both the Whittons and the Dysarts that by the time Giles was down from Oxford and Clare came up for her first Season, their children would see what an ideal couple they would make.

Lady Straiton’s ball always took place on Thursday evening of the third week of the Season. It was her way of ensuring that hers would be the first real crush, for she purposely waited until everyone had arrived in London, even the Whittons, who invariably came up to town late.

“It gets worse every year,” complained the earl, as he peered out the coach windows trying to see if the carriages in front of them were moving at all. “I always swear we will decline the invitation, and damned if you don’t always talk me into it, Helena.”

“Now, William, you know one cannot refuse the countess. Why, when the Allendales did one year, she made sure they were hardly seen anywhere else.” Lady Sabrina stole a glance at her brother, who, as often happened, was turning to her at the same time to share his amusement. Although Giles had not been a witness to this little contretemps for four years as Sabrina had, he was familiar enough with similar scenes, both in London and the country, with his father protesting a social obligation and his mother gently but firmly persuading him into it.

“I have to confess I sympathize with Father,” said Giles. “I am not looking forward to being squeezed and trampled on the dance floor. But I bow to your greater social wisdom, Mama,” he added with a teasing grin.

His mother rapped him with her fan. “Don’t encourage your father, Giles. And I thought you would be looking forward to this evening. The Dysarts will be there, and you have not seen Clare for over a year.”

“We are finally moving,” interrupted the earl, not wanting his wife to go further. He was hoping, nay, planning on this match, which he considered ideal for both families, but knew that the quickest way to put up a young man’s back was to push him at some eligible young lady. And this would be the first occasion that Giles would be meeting Clare as an eligible match. Whatever the unspoken understanding up until now, Clare had been too young and Giles too busy taking his first in Classics to see each other as anything but old friends.

While the earl trusted to the deep and long friendship between them, many things could happen in a girl’s first Season. And a young man’s, for that matter. For although Giles had come to London off and on, this would be the first spring that his attention would be free and undivided. And there would be many new and attractive young ladies present beside Clare.

The earl need not have worried. By that last summer, Giles had known that he loved her. It had grown slowly, this love, developed naturally and organically out of their old friendship. He had never spoken of it, however, even to Sabrina. And especially not to Clare, although he was sure she must know how he felt. On one hand, he was absolutely certain that she felt the same way and at the end of her first Season would announce their betrothal. On the other, he was still protective of her. What if, by some small chance, he were wrong? What if she met someone during this spring? He knew Clare very well: if he spoke to her, if he revealed his feelings too soon, then she would feel under an obligation, both to him and their two families. So he had decided to leave her free for the rest of the spring before declaring himself.

* * * *

After what seemed a week, their coach pulled up to the Straiton’s front steps. There was another wait before they were announced. Although, as Giles muttered to Sabrina, he couldn’t see the point of announcing their arrival, since no one could hear anything over all the noise.

They pushed their way slowly through the crowd toward the ballroom, where Giles began searching for Clare. He hadn’t thought he was being obvious, but Sabrina tugged his sleeve and said, “There she is, Giles, over there. I am so eager to see her. And doesn’t she look delightful?” She took her brother’s arm and let him make a path along the edge of the ballroom until they came to the small group of which Clare was a part.

Clare looked more than delightful, thought Giles as he greeted her. She was dressed in a pale lavender silk gown with a silver gauze overskirt. A dark purple ribbon was threaded through her blond curls, which made her eyes look violet.

Giles realized anew how pretty she was. He had never seen her dressed for a ball before. And he had put their summer kiss out of his mind. But he felt desire stir as he gazed down into her eyes. She was fully a woman, he realized, as he glanced down, appreciating the way the silk clung to her under the near transparent overdress. His eyes went to her sweetly rounded breasts which were exposed enough to make her gown fashionable but not immodest. Giles wondered how it would feel to brush his hand against one. When he had resolved to keep his feelings to himself for a while, he had not reckoned on the intensity of his desire, only the strength of his love. It was going to be much more difficult than he thought to delay his proposal.

He found himself stammering out some ridiculously obvious comment about the crowd while Sabrina moved forward and gave Clare a hug.

“It is so good to see you again at last,” his sister said, while Giles stood tongue-tied. “How are you liking your come out? I am sure your card has been full from your first evening.”

Clare smiled. “Not always full, Sabrina, but I haven’t had to hold up the wall for longer than a dance or two on any one evening.”

“I should hope not,” declared her friend.

Giles finally found his voice. “I hope you will be able to find one for me tonight?”

Clare looked over her card carefully. “I am not sure but that I can squeeze you in, why in an hour or two,” she replied. As she saw Giles frown, she immediately reached out her hand to touch his arm in reassurance. “Of course, I am only funning, Giles. In fact, after this next country-dance, I am free for a cotillion if you wish?”

“Clare, Clare, you must play harder to get,” said a familiar voice. Both Giles and Sabrina looked over in surprise as they realized that Lucy Kirkman was a member of Clare’s group. “I cannot fit you in until the end of the evening, Giles,” she said with a teasing smile.

“Well, the last dance it will be, Lucy,” he replied, moving over to her side.

“Whatever are you doing, hanging around with that cat,” Sabrina whispered to Clare.

“Why, she has been very kind to me. I knew so few people, and she has introduced me around and made me feel comfortable, Sabrina.”

“I am sure it is only because it makes her look kinder than she is and enables her to feel superior, Clare.” And if she is close to you, it is insurance that she will be close to Giles, thought Sabrina. Lucy had never again shown what Sabrina thought of as her real self to her brother after that first summer, and Giles and Clare seemed to have forgotten her behavior. But Sabrina didn’t trust her an inch and began to worry that Lucy might manage to snag her brother after all. And what defense would Clare have against her?

* * * *

If Sabrina was correct about Lucy, then Miss Kirkman must have been very unhappy during the next few weeks. Indeed, more than a few young ladies looked forward to the Viscount Whitton’s appearance, for he was not only the heir to the Earl of Amesford, but most attractive in his own right, with his changeable hazel eyes and athletic physique. But after that first dance, there was never any doubt in anyone’s mind that Giles was presenting himself as Clare’s suitor.