REMEMBRANCE (19 page)

“Was that Mr Bradley?” Mr Grainger’s voice sounded in her ear.

“Yes,” her voice was all but a whisper.

“I am told that he and Miss Cartland will be announcing their engagement very soon,” he went on and again Maria noticed the sadness to his tone.

Maria watched Tom from a distance, noticing how the redhead was making it known with her body language that Tom belonged to her. She had to recover herself; she could not let people know of her true feelings for the man who was to become Miss Lucy Cartland’s husband.

“Yes I believe so,” was all she could bring herself to say.

Mr Grainger sighed at her side.

“Are you alright, Mr Grainger?” she asked, concerned as she noticed the way his gaze lingered on Miss Cartland.

“How is it that some things never turn out the way you expect them to?” he asked quietly.

“How so?” Maria asked with interest.

“Oh, it is nothing, don’t mind me. Shall we take another turn on the floor?” Mr Grainger asked eagerly, “or we could just go and get some refreshments?”

She smiled in his direction. She was sure that there was a lot more that he had wanted to say, and wished that he would share his thoughts with her. She would welcome anything that would take her mind off Tom, for she could not help but keep glancing in his direction, only to be assaulted with the dark scowl of Miss Cartland. “Shall we go in search of refreshments?” she said.

Throughout the evening, she found herself engaged in dance with a few other gentlemen, who were eager to gain her acquaintance. Still, she mostly danced with Mr Grainger, who turned out to be very good company, and she was glad of the distraction. Although she tried not to, she found that her gaze kept wandering about the room in search of Tom.

Thomas was still trying to come to terms with the fact that he had just seen Maria again. It had been several weeks since he had last set eyes on her; the memory had come back to haunt him many a time since that fateful day—the day he could have taken from her the innocence she would have so willingly given out of love. Yet, now, here he stood, next to the woman he truly detested for putting an end to all his hopes.

He found his eyes drawn in Maria’s direction, where she was engaged in conversation with Mr Grainger. He almost detested him as much as he did the woman at his side. He could feel the anger welling up inside for the prison of his own making. If he had approached Sir John straight away then he would not be in this entanglement now. His heart ached for the woman he could never have.

He had noticed that Miss Cartland had become louder and clingier since having caught him talking to Maria. She seemed to want to make a point of the fact that he was with her, to Maria and everyone else in the room. She was driving him insane with her constant attentions, and he so very much wanted to tell her to leave him the hell alone. Still, being the gentleman that he had been brought up to be, he restrained himself from openly expressing his thoughts and feelings.

He smiled inwardly with the knowledge that they mixed in the same circle and there would be many opportunities to see Maria, at least socially. Although he may never be able to have her completely, at least he knew that he would still be able to admire her beautiful face.

* * * * *

Later, as she sat with her diary in front of her, the misery of her life flashed before Maria’s eyes. Every social gathering she will attend from now on will only serve to torment her, for she will be forced to watch her love with another woman. Still, she saw the tiny flicker of hope in his eyes. Just the memory of it warmed her frozen heart.

On leaving the ball, Sir John accepted an invitation to a grand banquet at Nedgely Hall for 150 or more guests. She wondered if Tom would announce his engagement on the evening of the banquet. She cringed at the thought of having to make polite conversation and spend an entire evening in the company of Tom and his future wife.

She slammed her fist hard against the wooden top, causing her to cry out in pain.

“I will not accept this! It cannot be my destiny!” she shouted out to the empty room.

She stood up and started to pace the floor. No, she would not accept this; it wasn’t meant to be—she and Tom belonged with each other. She would fight; she would fight for what she believed in. It wasn’t over; it had only just begun, for nothing in life was set in stone. One could choose their own destiny and, if she believed hard enough, then she didn’t see why she couldn’t have what she wanted. But how? How could she change the course of events that she could not control? She needed a plan; yes, that’s what she needed.

She did not feel like sleeping; she needed to think, so she crept from her room. The brightness of the silver moon cast its rays through the glass to light her way. She stole from the house and down through misted long grass. An owl called out as she neared the edge of the Crystal Pool where it shone like frosted ice. The oak tree towered like a hideous creature in the shadows. The air was cool and she wrapped her arms about her as she shivered and looked upon the stilled surface of the water.

This is where Thomas saw her—standing, looking at the moon’s reflection as it distorted upon the water’s surface. Surrounded by the mist rising from the ground about her legs, she looked like a ghost. He was afraid to move, for he was sure that he was dreaming and her image would disappear at any moment. Oh, how he wished that the image he saw were real! He rubbed his eyes and found her to be still standing there.

She sensed that she was been watched and swung herself round in alarm at the shadowed figure that stood within the dark shade of the tree.

“Who goes there?” she called, her voice trembling as she wrapped her arms more tightly around her slender body.

There was no reply.

“Who goes there?” Her voice was now raised with alarm.

The fear rose in her that it may be someone with bad intentions and she turned to make a run for it, when Tom’s soft tones floated across to her.

“M, please do not be afraid, it is me,” he called out softly.

“Tom?” she questioned, squinting her eyes to see better in the dark.

He moved from the cover of the oak and the moon’s glare cast him in light. Her stomach lurched at the sight of him.

“Tom, what… what are you doing here?”

“I could not sleep,” he spoke as he moved towards her, “so I came here, where I always come when I need to think.”

“You must not be here. What if someone was to spy us?” she said in a worried tone.

“M, it is two in the morning; pray, tell me, who would be at our pool at this time? All will be drunk in their beds,” he laughed quietly.

She frowned at his appearance. His hair was damp; with small droplets of water that sparkled white-blue in the hazy light and his white shirt was unbuttoned to the waist and clung to the damp contours of his chest.

“Have you been swimming?” she asked quietly.

His face broke out into a wide grin, “There is nothing that can clear the mind better than a refreshing, moonlight swim.”

“Oh.”

He stood only a few feet from her, yet the small distance still felt too far. He could not contain himself any longer and he closed the short distance.

“You should try it M, it cleanses the body as well as the mind.”

“Try it? What, now?” she asked, a little shocked.

“There is no time like the present,” he said huskily.

“Oh I don’t know…I couldn’t.”

He stood but a few inches from her, his breath misting in the cool air. She knew that she should be cross with him and tell him that she did not take kindly to him marrying another woman. Everything she thought she had wanted to say, all the heated words of betrayal, evaporated as she looked into his moon-shadowed face. This was Tom, her Tom. Suddenly, nothing mattered anymore. He was not to blame for this predicament, and she knew that he was as much a victim of the unfortunate circumstances as she was. She had wanted the opportunity to fight for what she wanted, and here it was, standing but a few inches from her heated skin. Tom. His closeness stirred her senses and already her body was starting to betray her; she could feel the quickening of her pulse, as the little fires started seeping through her limbs.

“Oh, come now, M,” he said, quietly moving closer still, “where is your sense of adventure?”

It was a challenge and she knew it; daring each other to do things had been a game they had played when they were younger. It was a challenge she knew she couldn’t resist and, by the look on his face, as he stood in front of her with his crooked smile and raised eyebrow, he knew it too. She smiled inwardly to herself. ‘And now it begins.’

“Turn around Thomas Bradley,” she demanded.

He did her bidding, noting the wicked glint in his eyes.

She moved over to the water’s edge, casting a glance toward his turned back, then slipped the thin cotton of her nightdress off her shoulders and stepped into the cold water.

“Oh my, it’s freezing,” she gasped as she submerged to her shoulders. She was too busy catching her breath and was unaware that Tom had joined her until he came to float right in front of her.

“I never said that it was warm, only that it was refreshing,” he laughed.

She gave him one of her quirky smiles then splashed water in his face; but before he’d had time to respond, she had swum away from him, laughing. She felt joyful for the first time since that faithful day and did not want this experience to end.

“Why you,” Thomas gritted out and, still shaking the water from his hair, swam after her.

Giggling and trying to swim turned out to be not one of her most brilliant ideas as she lost concentration, taking in a mouthful of water, which caused her to cough and splutter. Tom, who had revenge on his mind, grabbed her around the waist and swung her round. Squealing with shock at her capture, she ended up swallowing more water. Suddenly, she somehow came to find herself below the surface, and, while she fought her way up, Tom was swimming in taunting circles around her.

“Refreshed yet M?” he teased.

“You’re the devil in disguise, Thomas Bradley,” she hissed spinning herself around to keep him in view.

Thomas was enjoying himself immensely; it was as if all the years had been wiped away. He took a deep breath and sunk down below the water to creep up on her. His mind was so fixed on their game that it was only as he reached her shadowed figure beneath that he realised that she was naked. His already aroused body went into overdrive, he no longer felt the cold water; he was burning up.

Slowly, he eased his body up the front of hers and, as he slowly surfaced and with infinite care he captured her face in his hands and brought his lips to hers.

Oh how he had longed for this moment, to feel the soft curves of her body against his, to touch the delicate skin of her face. Passion ignited between them, scorching as they touched. His mouth sought the silken skin of her throat then drew a burning trail to the hollow of her collarbone while his hands moulded the firmness of her buttocks, bringing her small body to his, where there was no mistaking his desire.

He floated them to the shallow bank where he lifted her from the water and carried her to the base of the oak where his jacket lay. Not once did his lips leave hers as he stretched down at her side. He trailed his fingers along her cooled skin, across the underside of her breast, following the outline of her slender her hip, until he felt the silky smoothness of her legs. The moan of pleasure escaped her lips as he sought the delicate skin between her thighs and he felt as if he would explode at her eagerness for him to touch her as he dipped his finger into her heated furnace.

“Oh, M… my love,” he breathed raggedly, as he licked a path down across her neck, over her collarbone to the creamy crests of her breasts. Drawing in the cold air, with a sigh, he suckled the hardened bud between his lips, flicking and teasing its ripeness. As the hot lava of desire coursed through her veins, her essence coated his fingers, as she withered and arched beneath his hand, pressing herself harder against him.

Entwining her fingers in the blond softness of his hair, she brought his mouth closer to her quivering flesh. He obliged her by performing the same erotic dance with his tongue on her other breast. She was driving him mad with her sensual enticement. He had lost all reason to think, as pleasure took its place, tightening his shaft painfully when he heard the sound of her gasps, or felt the movement of her hips.

“Oh M, what torture is this?” his voice broke with tension from straining to hold his own desire in check. He lifted his head to look at her face.

“Please Tom,” she placed a finger to his lips.

He placed his hand over hers, kissing the softness of the digit that stopped him from talking. He heard her sob, and saw the glint of her tears shimmering in the silver light like tiny jewels. Impulsively, he swept them away. His touch was so gentle that she barely felt it on her cheeks. She turned her face into his palm, the swollen lushness of her lips brushing his skin.

“Oh M, I love you most ardently!” His voice sounded tormented as he made his confession.

“I have always loved you,” she whispered.

“What are we to do, M? How am I to bear this separation? I am yours body and soul; I have always been yours.”