The sun shone brightly and everyone saw to their daily tasks, but Ciara remained abed. When Elizabeth questioned her, she blamed it on a sour stomach and head pains. Cora then wisely declared that she should not overindulge in wine if she wished to avoid such a condition. She banished them all from the chamber, only to find that, one by one, they returned. Worse, Lady Murray visited with a family remedy for such things.
Its foul odour reached her before the lady handed her the cup and her stomach, so far not truly in distress, began to retch. She drank it down without complaint, fearing that to do so would only prolong the lady’s visit. Soon, the brew brought on sleep, which could not be a bad thing considering that she’d not slept at all the night before.
Her sleep filled with images of that kiss and she lived it over and over again in those dreams. The passionate way he whispered to her as he touched his lips to hers. Then he consumed her with his mouth, tasting and caressing her lips and tongue with his until she could not breathe or think.
Ciara had been kissed before, but nothing had prepared her for the overwhelming, breath-stealing heat that filled her blood and melted the centre of her. Her body wanted him, her heart ached for him and her soul hoped against hope that this would be the step that changed everything between them.
He admitted that he wanted her and his mouth promised such pleasure as he claimed her. She whispered his name when he lifted his face from hers and closed her eyes, awaiting the next touch, the next kiss … the moment when he would claim her as his and set themselves against whoever would deny his right to her.
When the reality followed the dream and she realised he had turned his back on her just as everyone important in her life had, she fought her way out of the troubled sleep. Her body ached as the dream faded, leaving behind the memories of their kiss. Accepting that the moment was over, Ciara opened her eyes.
Unfortunately, when she did, she found James sitting at her bedside. She nearly laughed when she noticed Elizabeth sitting in the far corner sewing some torn garments. She knew that Elizabeth was there partly to protect her reputation—laughable now, but she did not know that—or so as not to miss anything interesting that might happen.
‘Ah, you are awake,’ he said quietly.
Ciara shifted on the bed, pulling the covers up to mask the fact that she yet wore her gown from yesterday. And she glanced away, trying to banish the memories of the taste and feel of Tavis from her before speaking to James.
‘Aye. The potion your mother gave me made me sleep longer. Is it mid-day yet?’ she asked, noticing how bright the chamber was from the light pouring in through the window. She pushed herself back up to sit against the wooden headboard, tugging the bedcovers higher as she moved and then gathering her loosened hair behind her shoulders.
‘Past mid-day,’ he said. ‘Elizabeth, you said Cora had made some tea for Ciara. Would you get it now?’
Nicely dismissed, Elizabeth nodded to him and gifted Ciara with an expression that promised retribution for anything missed. She did leave the door open as she left, something that amused her now. Once they were alone, James took her hand in his.
‘I feared that this illness was my fault for pressing my affections on you last evening,’ he said. ‘I apologise if it is.’
Ciara studied him as he spoke. She had never been one to play games and hide the truth. She had sought to use candour rather than deception. So she decided that she would be honest with him in this and set the practice for their life together, now that it was clear to her there would be one.
‘It was not the kissing, James, but rather what I overheard after that in the hall.’
She waited and watched for his reaction. It came swiftly—he paled and could not meet her gaze. Then he stood and began to pace the chamber as though seeking the words to explain. When he did not speak soon enough, she did.
‘I had never heard those rumours until you and your father spoke of them.’
‘Ciara … I …’ He stumbled over the words. She raised her hand and shook her head to stop him from more.
‘I cannot answer about my mother’s past—whore or not, I do not know,’ she said. A loud crash interrupted from the outer chamber. Clearly, Elizabeth was listening and trying to pour the tea and had dropped the pot. James closed the door then, keeping this conversation between them.
‘But I have only been as I was raised to be and can only speak about my behaviour. If you have questions about it, ask me now so that no misunderstanding exists between us.’
He stopped and stared at her, then blinked several times. ‘You are unlike any other woman I know, Ciara.’ His blue eyes were serious as they met hers.
‘Clearly. For good or bad, this is who I am.’ She pushed back the bedcovers and slid to the edge of the bed. He glanced in surprise at her gown, but did not mention it aloud. ‘Your words so shocked and hurt me I sought answers from the only person who could answer them for me.’
‘The man who brought you here?’
‘Aye. Tavis is an old friend and I sought his counsel.’
She’d sought much more, but that was over. He’d returned her to James Murray and ended any possibility of anything else. His face darkened, most likely remembering his father’s suspicions. But he did not ask.
‘I’d thought myself in love with him from the time I was a child, James. My parents asked him to see me safely here to you. He is a family friend and nothing more.’ She hoped the words, spoken aloud, would convince both of them. But in her heart, she screamed out in anger at Tavis’s dismissal of what truly was between them and his reasons for keeping them apart. James seemed to think about her words before nodding his acceptance.
‘Ciara, I did not mean to question your honour,’ James began. ‘But with what my father had told me from the beginning and knowing that you seek him out, I doubted you.’ A knock warned of intrusion and the door began to open. Elizabeth carried a cup before her.
‘Leave us,’ Ciara said. Elizabeth nodded and pulled the door closed. Standing, she walked to face him. ‘No matter my mother’s past, no matter what rumours you might hear otherwise, you will find me pure on our marriage night.’
His eyes widened and then he smiled. ‘That pleases me, Ciara.’ He lifted her hands and kissed one, then the other. ‘I think I like this candour between us.’
‘I cannot promise there will not be conflict between us, James, but I can promise it will never happen because of dishonesty on my part.’
She could tell he wanted to test her with a kiss, but he decided otherwise and stepped back, releasing her hands. He lifted the latch on the door and opened it. Elizabeth moved quickly away and waited to be asked in.
‘Elizabeth, see to your friend’s comfort,’ James said with a nod to her. ‘I hope to see you at the evening meal, if you are feeling up to it.’
The door from the outer chamber to the hall had not closed for a second before Elizabeth thrust the cup in her hands, placed her hands on her hips and demanded the truth from her.
‘What did he say about your
