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And then she was rolling and rolling. The baby flew out of her
hands.
She screamed. The knock echoed the pounding of her heart. She sat up,
disoriented and shaking.
"Claire! Claire! Open the damned door!" She automatically stumbled
towards the door, and them remembered she was in the inn. Fingers
trembling, she managed to unlock it. Jack stood in the doorway. He
wore a dark robe, and his hair was tousled. Claire blinked, trying to
clear the fog from her mind.
"Jack?"
"What's wrong? I heard you scream."
"I... I had a bad dream." She shivered, the tears she always felt
after the dream springing to her eyes.
He stepped into the room and shut the door.
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"My God! I thought you'd been attacked. You don't know..." He
touched her wet cheek.
"Claire?
You're crying. "
She shook her head.
"No..."
"And you're trembling. Claire, don't, my sweet." His arms came around
her, drawing her against his chest for the second time that night.
"My... my baby," she whispered.
"Baby?"
"He... he killed him. M-Marcus." She began to cry, silent shaking
sobs she couldn't seem to stop.
His arms tightened around her, one hand stroking her hair until her
sobs subsided. Then he drew her towards the bed and sat down, still
cradling her against his chest. His robe had fallen open and his skin
was rough and warm against her cheek. He held her tight until she
ceased shaking, and she lay against his chest, eyes closed, completely
spent.
"What happened?" he asked gently.
Claire pulled away from him and took a deep shuddering breath. I was.
was with child. I. I thought Marcus would be pleased, but he only
seemed angry. And one night we. we had gone to a dinner at some
neighbours'. It was winter. Marcus was angry; I could see it. And in
the carriage he. he said I was flirting with the unmarried son. He
accused me of being unfaithful. " The details were vivid in her
mind.
His hateful, venomous words, her cowering in the corner, afraid he
would strike her as he had many times before. But he hadn't.
"He ... he said he could hardly bear to sit in the same coach with me.
He told the coachman to drive faster and faster so he would be rid of
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my company. And we overturned."
Jack was very still. She had no idea what he thought, only that she
must go on.
"I... I lost the baby. He... he was born too soon; he lived only a few
hours. And... and Marcus said it was a good thing as he... he wasn't
his son." She looked at Jack, the anguish and pain still fresh in her
heart.
"How could he say that? How could someone say that about an innocent
baby?"
"I don't know." In the moonlight, his face was pale, his eyes dark
with some emotion she did not understand.
"I... I was never unfaithful," she whispered.
"I know."
"He... he was my baby. I wanted him."
"I know." He reached for her again, pulling her back against his
chest.
"Claire, I am so very sorry. For all of this."
"I ... I didn't want to live. He ... he hated me, Jack."
His arms tightened around her, as if he meant to never let her go. His
chin rested against her head. She curled up against him like a small
child, feeling more comforted and warm than she had felt for ages.
They sat like that for a long while, the moonlight bathing the room in
a soft silver light.
Claire finally stirred, her eyelids half-closed with drowsiness.
"I...
I should let you go to bed," she whispered. She didn't really want him
to go; he felt too good.
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"Very well." He stood with her in his arms, letting her slide down the
length of him, still holding her against him.
"Which side do you prefer?"
"Side?"
"Of the bed. I'm staying with you." His voice was firm, brooking no
argument.
Her face flamed.
"Jack, no. I don't think..."
"I'm not going to seduce you," he said softly into her hair.
"But you're not sleeping by yourself. I want to be there if you have
more bad dreams."
He felt so warm and solid. And very, very masculine. She should shove
him away.
"I like the left side of the bed."
She felt the soft rumble of his laughter.
"And I like the right. This will work out very well." He scooped her
up and gently laid her on the bed. She watched, alarmed to see him
remove his robe. She was relieved to see he wore breeches. But
nothing else. She closed her eyes, the sight of his broad, muscular
chest covered with a mat of dark hair making her blood quicken. Then
the mattress sank as he settled in beside her, his body coming to rest
against hers. Claire lay on her back, her body rigid. He shifted and
then his arm curved under her head, drawing her to his chest. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]