Lucy Gordon - The Stand-In Bride

‘Help me put them on,’ she said, taking them up.

He lifted her hair back and she felt his warm breath on the nape of her neck. Then his fingers brushed lightly against her ears, fastening the gold clasps. Maggie drew a slow breath, startled at the way her heart had started to beat.

It was the first time he’d touched her intimately since the night in Sol y Nieve when he’d tried to make love to her, and given up in the face of her despairing chill. Since then, he’d never touched her except by chance, or to give her his hand formally.

And now, when she was least prepared, her sensations returned, making the blood rush to her cheeks. She met Sebastian’s eyes, and saw there that he’d understood. Something was making her breath come quickly. Then a sigh of pleasure from Felipe forced them back to the present, and it was all over.

‘Beautiful,’ he said. ‘Magnificent.’

‘Yes, they are beautiful,’ she said. ‘Thank you.’

Then the tears came to her eyes. It was so dreadful to see him there, his life ruined, and know that she was deceiving him.

‘You must not weep,’ Felipe said.

‘I can’t help it,’ she said huskily, touching his wasted cheek. ‘I’m sorry-I’m so sorry-’

‘No need to be sorry for me-when I have a lovely woman to weep for me,’ he said gallantly. He tried to raise his arm and failed. ‘Sebastian, comfort her.’

She tried to stop crying but her pity for the old man welled up. She had wept for her baby, for Roderigo, for herself, but now she wept for Felipe and they were the bitterest tears of all. She felt Sebastian’s arms go around her, drawing her head against his shoulder, and cried unrestrainedly.

After a moment she forced herself to be calm again, and raised her head, smiling at Felipe.

‘You are a lucky man,’ he said to Sebastian. ‘By now, you might have made a different marriage. But this is the wife for you. She is a good and true woman. No man could ask for better. I, Felipe Mayorez, tell you that.’

‘And you are right, old friend,’ Sebastian said gravely. ‘I have known it, but it pleases me to hear you say it.’

Suddenly the old man gave a sigh. His eyes closed and his head lolled.

‘Carlos,’ Sebastian called, and the young man appeared so quickly that he must have been nearby.

They said their goodbyes, but Felipe seemed hardly able to hear them, and they left. In the car home Maggie realised that she was still wearing the earrings and started to remove them.

‘Keep them on,’ Sebastian told her. ‘They were given from the heart.’

‘I never expected him to be so kind to me.’

‘He saw something in you that he loved,’ Sebastian said simply. ‘This I understand.’

He spoke so quietly that she wasn’t sure she’d heard him, and when she looked he was gazing out of the window.

Maggie had moved out of the room she first occupied, into one that befitted the mistress of the house, but Sebastian had kept his own room next door. Sometimes faint noises reached him through the connecting wall. He tried not to listen, but the noises tormented him.

On the night of their visit to Felipe he sat up late, listening and trying not to listen. As midnight passed into the small hours he could hear her walking about the room. But then the movements stopped, and the silence was worse.

He thought of her that afternoon, letting him hold her while she was torn by pity for the old man, but slipping quickly out of his arms again. And tonight, when she might have turned to him, she had pleaded a headache and gone to bed early. That was six hours ago and she was still awake.

When he could endure it no longer he went out into the corridor. There was no sound from behind her door, and at last he pushed it open and closed it quietly behind him. She was standing in the middle of the floor. She turned when she heard the click of the door.

‘Can’t you sleep?’ he asked.

‘I don’t want to sleep. Not after this afternoon. Every time I close my eyes I see him.’

‘Felipe?’

‘No- him !’

There was no further need to ask who he was.

‘I can’t bear my nightmares,’ Maggie said desolately. ‘He’s always there.’

He came close to her. ‘He mustn’t be there,’ he said. ‘Nobody must be there but me.’

‘Then drive him away,’ she said desperately. ‘Can’t you make him go?’

‘Yes,’ he said, taking her into his arms. ‘I will make him go away, so that there is only me. Tell me that is what you want.’

‘Yes,’ she whispered, slipping her arms about his neck. ‘It’s what I want.’

Still he couldn’t be sure, and his uncertainty was reflected in his kiss, gentle and loving, passion held in abeyance. There was something new in her response, a desperation, almost a plea, that hurt him. He kissed her repeatedly, trying to bring her back to him.

‘Margarita,’ he murmured, ‘Margarita-where are you?’

‘With you-where I want to be. Hold me.’

‘What do you want?’ he asked her urgently.

‘I want you- you .’

He longed to ask her what she really meant by that, but the need was rising in him, making his caresses more urgent, his kisses deeper. As always her beauty entranced him, but tonight it had a special quality. He tossed her night dress away, then his own robe, and held her naked body against his.

‘Sebastian-I do want you.’

It was all he needed. He reached the bed first and sat, drawing her against him so that he could lay his head between her breasts, revelling in their sweetness and warmth. They were already proudly peaked, testament to her desire. When he caressed them with his lips, she let out a long sigh of pleasure and satisfaction, clasping her hands behind his head, inviting him.

He leaned back so that she slid down onto the bed beside him and began to bestow subtle, lingering kisses on her face, her neck, silently calling her to return to him.

Maggie could feel the change in him through her skin, her sensations, the beating of her heart. Their other lovings had been wild encounters, each seeking and giving pleasure, almost like rivals. Now Sebastian was using desire to give her something else, something she needed far more than pleasure. With every touch he spoke of tenderness, protection, reassurance, and her terrors began to fade. In her need she reached out to him, and he was there.

His arms had always been strong to excite her, but now they were strong to keep her safe. Nobody had ever offered her safety before, and she reached for it, eagerly, blindly, startling him with the emotional depth of her response.

‘Margarita,’ he murmured.

‘Hold me,’ she begged. ‘Don’t let me go.’

‘Never,’ he said swiftly. ‘I’m here-always-’ His face was close to hers, his eyes holding hers. ‘Now,’ he whispered. ‘Now!’

She drew a long breath and suddenly she was a whirlwind in his arms, calling his name, drawing him closer, seeking something only he could give. For a blinding moment everything was well between them, just as it had been when passion was uncomplicated and all they asked. Then suddenly it was over and his heart was beating as never before. Something had happened, beautiful, alarming and beyond his experience. He wasn’t sure of anything, except that passion alone would never be enough again.

He lay on his back, his arm beneath Maggie’s neck, while she turned towards him, flinging an arm confidingly across his chest, snuggling against him as though seeking refuge.

He thought she murmured something. It might have been, ‘My darling,’ or it might not. He listened, hoping she would speak again, but she had settled against him, sleeping as contentedly as a child. After a while he, too, slept.