Page 117 of Captive of Sin

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“Well, you’ve got it. Forever.” She mustered the courage that lately had been so sadly lacking. The murky currents swirling beneath the bright surface would no longer be denied. Her tone developed an edge. “I can be grateful to you and love you. The two aren’t mutually exclusive.”

She hadn’t mentioned love since the morning he’d surrendered to lust and leaped on her. Always, even at the peak of sexual pleasure when her whole world was Gideon, she’d bitten back the words. His silence had fed hers.

Her wisdom in restraining any declaration became abundantly clear. He surged to his feet and regarded her with the wary expression she’d hoped never to see again. The hollow in her heart resonated as if a huge mourning bell clanged inside it.

“Charis, it’s our last night on Jersey,” he said somberly, ignoring her challenge. Although his guarded eyes told her he’d heard her. “Tomorrow we sail for Penrhyn,”

No, no, no, no, no.

“We’re leaving?” Her question rang with dismay.

Could the tenuous bond she’d established with him outlast a return to daily life? Here she was the center of his existence. She wasn’t vain enough to expect that to continue forever. But she needed longer to make him completely hers.

Did he even intend to keep her with him?

Grim foreboding swamped her. Was this her ration of joy, these few glorious days on Jersey?

Reluctant amusement quirked his lips. “We have to go at some point, you know.”

Blindly, she lurched up and turned away, fisting her shaking hands in her skirts. His attempt at lightness grated, hurt. He treated her like an easily distracted child. “Not yet.”

She heard him approach, then his hand curved around her arm. She felt the roughness of his scars against her bare skin. His touch reminded her of his suffering and how far he’d come since they’d married.

Had he come far enough?

His voice was warm, encouraging. “There’s no need to be frightened. You’ve reached your majority. The Farrells can’t harm you. We’re free.”

He misunderstood her reaction. Of course the threat of Felix and Hubert had darkened her days. But more important by far was her endless battle for a future with Gideon.

“We’re not free. We’re married,” Charis said in a muffled voice, bending her head.

He released her with an abrupt gesture and stepped away. She felt the distance like the blow of an ax. “If I could have devised another way to save you, I wouldn’t have forced you into such drastic action,” he said curtly.

The sweet concord of minutes ago was only a bitter memory. The suddenness of the change left her staggering in its wake. She turned to face him, knowing her pain was naked in her face. “You know I’m always grateful for…”

“Enough!” One ruined hand sliced the tense air. “If I hear the word grateful once more, I won’t be responsible for the consequences.”

“But, Gideon…”

“Devil take you, Charis, stop!” He paused, visibly fighting for composure. Bitterness frayed his voice, and his shoulders were ruler straight with tension. “Really, you shouldn’t thank me. As it’s turned out, our marriage was precipitate. Your stepbrothers haven’t traced us. We didn’t need to take such permanent measures. I can only offer my profoundest regrets.”

The sharp slap resounded like the report of a bullet.

Gideon’s head whipped back, and his expression registered shock rather than anger. The red imprint of her hand darkened his cheek.

The grim, echoing silence extended. And extended.

Shaking, Charis lowered her arm and backed away on unsteady legs. She wasn’t frightened. She was so furious, her vision turned black.

“How dare you?” Her voice lowered to trembling vehemence. “You’ve had me in your bed. You’ve been so deep inside me, you’ve touched my soul. Yet you have the gall to talk about regret?”

“What I’ve done to you is unforgivable,” he said harshly. As shock receded, rage lit his black eyes. “And yes, I do regret that I’ve hurt you.”

Her fragile happiness shattered around her with a sharp crack that sounded like a heart breaking. Her lips felt stiff as she voiced her worst fears. “You can’t mean to follow your original plan, that we should lead separate lives?”

His jaw set like stone. “The basic difficulties remain. It still seems the best solution.”

Agony stabbed her, stole her breath, made her stumble back a step. She felt betrayed, devastated, lost. Somewhere, she found strength to speak. “Is that what you want?”


Tags: Anna Campbell Historical