The Third Son (46 page)

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Authors: Elise Marion

BOOK: The Third Son
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“And I suppose he will bend down on one knee and ask me to be his wife like he did before,” Esmeralda snapped, slamming the tea kettle into the sink viciously. She was so tired of people trying to advise her on how to live her life. She was still reeling from the loss of two people she had dearly loved.
Esmeralda
was in no mood for a lecture. “
N
o one will be surprised if I were to say yes. After all, who would refuse a king? I suppose you would all stand around with handkerchiefs pressed to your teary eyes as he swept me onto his horse and rode off with me into the sunset. I once thought that love worked that way, but I learned otherwise. The hard way.”

Raina shook her head. “I am not telling you that you should marry him tomorrow. I am not saying that you should marry him at all. I am only saying that he has a right to know about the child and now that Tristan is gone you must think of the child’s future. You must think of your future.”

Esmeralda grudgingly admitted that her mother was right.
E
ven though the fantasy of Damien riding off with her into the sunset was still lingering on the edges of her mind, Esmeralda knew it would not be that easy.

“My husband has barely been buried for an hour,” she said. “I need time.”

“I understand,” Raina conceded as she turned to leave. “Just don’t take so much time that you miss out on something wonderful.”

“I still love him,” she admitted, swiping at a tear with frustration.
Esmeralda
did not want to cry anymore. She had spent an entire year avoiding heartbreak and sadness and although she had not been deliriously happy
,
she had been safe and comfortable. “How do I stop loving him?”

Raina shrugged. “It’s possible. But only if you truly want it to be.”

 

Chapter 27

Damien could not stay away. He knew that he should, but only four weeks after Tristan’s funeral passed before he found himself standing on Esmeralda’s doorstep. He knew that he had to give her time and space to grieve, but he could not deny himself the sight of her any longer. She was surprised to see him, but he could tell that she was also pleased. She accepted the yellow roses he offered her with a smile and ushered him into the sitting room.

“I hope you don’t mind my coming by,” he said, watching her fill a vase with water. “I was thinking about you and wanted to see for myself how you’re doing.”

She took a seat on the sofa beside him, nearly unmanning him with her nearness. He wanted nothing more than to crush her against him and smother her with kisses. He had not touched a woman since his last night with her, had not wanted to until that moment when he was close enough to reach out and touch her. He folded his hands in his lap instead and watched her lips when she spoke.

“We are doing well,” she said, indicating the small cradle where Leila lay sleeping a few feet away from where they sat. “Desmond comes by whenever I need him to fix things or to bring me firewood. He’s been a great help.”

Damien nodded. “I am glad to hear it.”

He turned to study the sleeping infant in the cradle. Swirls of inky black hair covered her little head and dark lashes lay like crescent moons on her plump cheeks while she slept. Her skin was the same shade of Esmeralda’s and she had her nose as well.

“She’s beautiful,” he murmured, rising to take a closer look at the sleeping child. “Just like you.”

“She does take a bit after her father,” she said, coming to standing behind h
im. Leila began to squirm in her
sleep and within moments she was crying, a tiny little mewling sound that warmed Damien’s heart. With her eyes squeezed closed and her tiny fists balled up, she kicked her tiny feet as she cried.

“May I?” he asked, turning to Esmeralda for permission. He had never had a chance to hold the child he’d thought would be his and for some reason he suddenly had an urge to hold this one.

Esmeralda hesitated for a moment. Damien could sense her apprehension. “Don’t worry,” he assured her. “I’ve held a baby before.” He had meant to put her more at ease, yet she seemed even more nervous with each passing second. Leila continued to cry and after a few seconds
,
Esmeralda nodded silently.

Damien bent over the cradle and slid his hands beneath the baby, one at her head and one at her bottom and lifted her against his chest. “Shhh, hush now,” he crooned to the tiny thing, swaying gently from side to side as he held her. She fussed for a few for seconds before nestling against his chest.
Leila
found her thumb and began to suckle with a loud smacking sound. He could not have described the emotion that welled up within him in that moment.
Damien
felt as if this child had always belonged in his arms.

He looked up to see Esmeralda with her hands clapped over her mouth, her eyes filled with tears. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his brow wrinkled in concern.

“Nothing,” she sobbed, clasping her hands together tightly in front of her. “It’s just that holding her comes so naturally to you.”

Damien studied her curiously for a moment, wondering why the sight of him holding her child should bring tears to her eyes. Then he looked down just as Leila opened her eyes. They were the color of emeralds. They were his father’s eyes. His eyes. His head jerked up and he found Esmeralda’s gaze.

“Tristan’s eyes are brown,” she said.

Damien could hardly believe
it
. The child from this vision, this child, was real. She was real and she was his. “Why didn’t you come to me?” he asked, though he was sure he already understood. He could not even be angry with her for not telling him. All that he had been through in the past year faded into nothingness in this moment as he held his firstborn child.

“I’m sorry,” she said, swiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. “I didn’t know until after you had already married Davina. By then, you had been through so much I did not want to burden you.”

“This child could never be a burden.”

“Yes, but I know how hard it was for you to make the decision that you did. I thought it was better that you never knew. I had planned to sail to America and start over, that way I could be sure you would never find out.
T
hen Tristan discovered that I was pregnant and offered me marriage. He did not care that Leila was not his by blood
. Tristan
loved her because she was mine.”

“I owe him a great deal,” Damien said, unable to tear his eyes away from the child he held in his hands. “For taking care of the two most precious things to me, I will never forget him.”

They stood in silence together, gazing down at the life they had created together out of love. Leila
quickly
drifted off to sleep again. Damien laid her gently in the cradle and then turned toward Esmeralda. Their eyes locked and they stood there wordlessly, their eyes communicating things that could not be said with words.

In the blink of an eye
,
he was across the room and sweeping her into his arms. She did not resist him when he leaned down to kiss her.
Esmeralda
responded with unrestrained ardor, opening her mouth to him to accept his invading tongue, wrapping her arms around his neck tightly. H
er
taste was so familiar, but it had been so long since he had experienced it that
Damien
could not get enough. Her knees weakened, but his hands tightened around her waist to keep her from falling.

“I’ve miss you,” he murmured against her lips as he moved her in the direction of the bedroom. All logical thought had fled the moment he tasted her lips and he knew that now he could not stop, would not stop until he had her naked and spread beneath him.

He tore at her dress. She tore at his shirt. Articles of clothing flew in every direction until they tumbled unto the bed together, naked flesh pressed to naked flesh. Damien looked down and was pleased to see that childbirth had not detracted from her figure. If anything, it had enhanced it, adding to it a certain womanliness.

He loved her as he never had before, reminding her of what had been, and showing her what would be now that she was his again.
His hands were everywhere, traveling over the hills and valleys of a body that had haunted his dreams since the last time he’d gazed upon it. Damien marveled at the fuller breasts that filled his palms as he bent to taste them and the soft feel of wider hips that enveloped him as he lowered himself between them. Esmeralda’s voice rung over him, filling his ears with the soft music of her moans as he entered her for the first time in what had felt like forever.

Damien took her slowly, fighting against the climax that nipped desperately at his heels. It had been too long since and he was dying to sink into her and lose himself, but held it in check, longing to savor the silky grasp of her sheath around him and her thighs gripping his. It wasn’t until Esmeralda screamed her name at the force of her climax that Damien buried his face against her shoulder and let go. His thrusts became frenzied and uncontrolled, pounding out frantic rhythm against her as he soared over the edge and beyond.

When it was over, he knew she knew just how much he had missed her.

When they lay together tangled in the bedcovers, he held her close. He whispered in her ear, mindless love words that he had been dreaming of whispering to her night after night for a year. She clung to him, burrowing her face against his neck, reveling in the familiarity of his skin against hers.

“How soon do you think we can be married?”

She stiffed in his arms and the question hung between them unanswered.
Esmeralda
struggled into a sitting position and reached for her shift. She pulled it over her head and started searching for the rest of her garments, which were scattered around the room.

“Esmeralda?”

She turned her back to him and pulled on the rest of her clothes.

“Surely you know that I will not live the rest of my life without you and Leila,” he continued
as he left the bed to find his clothes
. She
faced again
she was sure he was completely dressed.

“You have to give me time,” she pleaded, trying in vain to avoid his smoldering gaze. “My husband has only been dead one month. I cannot even think of marrying again until more time has passed. It wouldn’t be right.”

Damien came forward and cupped her face in his hands. His gaze was tender and his fingertips gentle and he lifted her face toward his. He kissed her. Once. Lightly. “We have waited long enough,” he said. “Tristan is dead, but that doesn’t mean we have to be. It is time for us to live. Together, as a family, as it should have been from the beginning.”

Esmeralda squeezed her eyes shut, hoping that if she didn’t look at him he would stop weaving the magical spell that he was creating around her with his eyes. “So much has happened to keep us apart that I just don’t know if I’m brave enough to risk heartache again.”

“I know that nothing has turned out the way we planned. We have both been through a lot apart, but we have also been through a lot together and I know that together we are stronger. Whatever happens, at least we’ll have each other. We’ll have Leila.”

“I need more time,” she whispered.

“More time? We have spent more than enough time apart. I don’t think I can wait any longer. “

“Please don’t make me decide now. If you truly love me, you won’t deny me that.”

Damien sighed wearily, but nodded his agreement. “At least you did not say no,” he said with a wicked grin. “I will give you all the time you want, but I will not give you space. I shall be here, every hour of every day until you give me an answer.” When Esmeralda groaned in frustration, Damien merely chuckled. “You didn’t think I would make it that easy, did you?”

****

 

He did not make it easy. Less than one month later, he was standing in the garden at Largess Hall, watching as Esmeralda’s brother led her toward him through tall white pillars wrapped in garlands of spring flowers. They had decided on a private ceremony in the garden with only their family and closest friends. His first wedding had been grand and lavish, yet hollow and without meaning.

As Esmeralda walked toward him in white silk and lace, a wreath of flowers set on top of her unbound hair, Damien’s heart leaped in its chest. As she came near and smiled at him, he knew that this time would be different.

This time, when he knelt before the priest for prayer, he silently added his own plea that God would keep them together for eternity. This time, when he said his vows, they meant more to him than any words ever had in his life. This time, when he slid the ring on his bride’s finger, he did so with the knowledge that it would never be from her hand, and he found joy in that revelation. This time, when he kissed his bride, he could not stop kissing her.

S
o they kissed
a
nd they kissed
a
nd they kissed, until the priest cleared his throat noisily.
T
hen they kissed some more.

****

 

Isabelle smiled from her seat in the garden, applauding just as loudly as the other guests. The sun was beaming down on them and the fragrant flowers surrounding them created a small cocoon where only happy endings happened and fairy tales came true. Her only wish was that such a place could truly exist.

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