She looked as though she heard him but was having a hard time understanding, and he had no reservations about allowing her to take as much time as she needed, winking at her before leaving the study.
Chapter Fifteen
Agnes was unsure of how she had gotten herself back to her chambers after that.
She had left the study in a daze, running Silas’ words around in her mind over and over, perhaps in disbelief, perhaps in search of hidden meanings behind them. He had no reason to do this… to include it into their deal, but he had. Heat had filled her face as she recalled what he had done to her in his study, and she quickly hurried back – or as quickly as she could on wobbly knees.
Beatrice had tried to enquire about her well-being and ask her about dinner, but Agnes feigned a headache and said she wanted to go to bed early. Once she had convinced her maid to leave her be, she dropped onto her bed, buried her face in a pillow, and wailed in embarrassment, somewhat unable to come to terms with what had happened mere moments earlier.
But the signs were there, in the looseness of her body, the heat beneath her skin. She could still smell him, still feel him pressed against her, mouthing at her neck, petting her gently with his hands.
Suddenly, she sat up, feeling a little upset. Why had he left her there like that? Why had he stopped? It was unfair that – much like the first time – he had given her a taste and left her aching for more.
“Goodness,” she breathed in mild awe. “I must have taken leave of my senses.”
Saying that didn’t change the fact that she craved to have him by her side again, to fill her senses with his taste and touch, to melt helplessly beneath him. It would take a miracle for her to think of anything else anytime soon, and she whined pitifully, dropping down to lay on her back. Slowly, her hand came up to her mouth, her fingertips tracing her lips lightly as she remembered the fiery kisses they had shared and the words he had coolly told her afterward.
“…Every time Scar finishes a training session excellently, I will reward you afterward.”
She smiled to herself, giggling in excitement.
I suppose it is not such a bad thing to have something to look forward to henceforth.
Silas shut the door to his chambers and pressed his back to it, letting out a shuddery exhale. He remained that way for a while, focused on breathing deeply, willing away the arousal weighing heavily in his gut and straining his breeches.
He had been so close… desperately wanted to rip off her clothes and take her right there, like that on his desk. He wanted to have her screaming his name, clawing at his skin as he sheathed himself in her heat.
It was hard resisting her. He wanted to fold, to fall, but the fear of losing her as well held him back. Avoiding her had been a good tactic to help him curb his attraction to her – good but not permanent.
His worries were still present, just as consistent as his nightmares. More nights than not, he found himself in the carriage that his grandfather and himself had been in, unable to move his body. His eyes wandered around, taking in the splintered wood and displaced cushions, slowly realizing that the carriage had turned onto his side.
Eventually, he would remember that he had not been traveling alone and call out for his grandfather, startled when a wet gurgle is a response he is met with. He would shift his gaze in the direction of the sound… and wish he hadn’t looked.
His grandfather – ever thinking of his well-being – had asked him not to look and had ordered him to close his eyes. But Silas could not obey, not even in his dreams, unable to take his attention off the blood dripping from his grandfather’s lips onto his formally pristine shirt, screaming as soon as he fully took in the sight of a tree branch poking through his grandfather’s stomach.
His screams never changed the outcome. Help arrived after the old man had taken his final breath – a painful exhale that had brought a fresh wave of tears to Silas’ eyes. He always woke up in pain, heart aching in his chest as the urge to scream clawed at his throat.
First, it had been his parents, then his grandfather. He seemed to be fated to give up those he cared for the most. And he didn’t want that to be the case with this marriage – with Agnes. He had hoped that by keeping her at arm’s length, if she was also taken from him, he would only have to mourn her out of duty.
But it was too late for him to still do that. He had already breached the gap between them. He had grown to care for her, given into the itch to have and know her. He had been intrigued and impressed by her – despite the initial impression of irritation she had left on him.
He had grown accustomed to hearing her laughter while riding his horse, the sight of her walking or reading. He was adapting to her presence and finding that he was not opposed to making compromises for her sake.
Silas was still not ready or willing to be more than her husband on paper, but he was determined to make the most of what he could get with their current arrangement.
What was the worst that could happen?
It had quickly gotten tiring how the mere sight of Silas could push her to the precipice of a heart attack.
Since most of the wedding preparations were complete, Agnes had decided to dedicate the day to training with Scar. She had set out a little later than she usually did in the morning because she had slept so well the night before and failed to wake by her usual time.
She had leisurely eaten her breakfast, stopped by the kitchen to thank the cook for an excellent meal, and then changed into her riding habit before making her way outside. Agnes felt oddly good that day, alert and refreshed, and everything seemed nicer out in the open air, so she had not thought too much about walking around the garden for a while, then finally heading to the stables.
This was why the sight of Silas had stopped her in her tracks immediately, filling her with something that couldn’t be distinguished from anticipation and dread. He met her gaze head-on, quirking an eyebrow in question at the uncertain look on her face. She cleared her throat and walked forward, smilingat the physician when he bowed before facing her husband-to-be and speaking,
“Your Grace… why – what brings you here? So early? T-Today?”
Silas bit his lip in an effort to keep himself from teasing her, resolving to remain on his best behavior – at least for now.