Intolerable Civility

Chapter Thirty-One: Like a Flood

David went around his room lighting candles. Not one or two, to guide their way to bed, but all the candles in all the braces on the walls. Cate sat curled up in an armchair watching him, her heart racing despite the stillness of her body. They were both still in their evening dress, which she supposed would be the first obstacle, but he had removed his shoes and stockings and rested them on the empty grate to dry. There was something terrifyingly intimate about his bare feet. She did not often see a man's bare feet, except perhaps her brothers', and even Luke hardly counted as a man.

When every last candle was lit, David came over and sat down on the chair opposite her.

"I had to think about it," he said. "I went for a long walk to think about you."

"And what did you decide?"

He leaned forward so he could take her hand in his. "Nothing. I just... kept repeating it to myself, and wondering if it could be true."

"It is. I love you." It was easier to say now she knew he wanted to hear it. "It took a long time coming, but when it did, it came like a flood."

"It did?" David dropped to his knees on the ground before her so he could kiss her hand. "What changed?"

"I don't know. You." She touched his wind-chilled cheek. "Kiss me."

"I didn't change." He nosed around her shoulder, not kissing her, not even really touching her, just getting close and breathing her in. "Cate, I lied just now. I did decide something out there."

"I know. I'm here. I'm yours." She touched his coat sleeve and shuddered. "You're damp. Take off your clothes."

"I'm getting there." The barest flash of a smile crossed his lips. "Sorry. It started to rain. I was miles away and had no choice but to walk back in it."

"You could have taken shelter."

He shrugged off his coat and let it fall to the floor. "I knew you would be waiting for me."

"Yes. You made me wait. Alone with our guests." She tugged at his cravat. "David. That was not nice."

"Cate. Darling. Sweetheart." He caught her hand in his, stopping her from removing his cravat. "I'm sorry. I had to get out of there. I had to move. I'm not very good at feelings, and I felt a lot of things when you said..."

"I love you," she prompted.

"Yes. That." He kissed the inner side of her wrist. "It makes my heart race. Take off my cravat now."

She loosened the knot and pulled it off him. His shirt slipped open to reveal a triangle of pale brown flesh, lightly downed with black hair. She stroked the hollow of his neck.

"Where's your scar?" She asked. "You have a scar, don't you?"

"Lower than that." He brought her hand downwards to where his waistcoat covered his lower ribs. "Here."

"Does it hurt?"

"No. Not one bit."

"Can I see?"

He ruffled the skirt of her evening dress. "Not yet. It's your turn now."

"Fine." She leaned down to pull her slippers off, but he stopped her by taking her hand.

"Let me," he said.

His hands were delicate as he undid her straps and pulled her slippers off. Then his fingers slid upwards, over her calf, and played with her garters under the cover of her skirts.

"Can I untie them without looking?" he asked.

"I don't know. Can you?"

"Hm." His fingers played over her flesh, probing delicately, sending anticipation tingling up her legs. "Is it... this way?"