Lyn Stone - The Wilder Wedding

“Sean?”

His head came up with a guilty jerk. “Yes?”

She gave him a pointed look. “I’m not sixteen anymore. My women friends who are long married have been rather vocal about what’s involved. And, believe it or not, I can read, as well. Now tell me what has prompted this absurd fabrication of yours? Are you teasing me?”

The pained look on his face wiped away all the humor in the situation. He wasn’t making sport of her inexperience at all. “Or is it my illness?”

Laura watched him carefully as he exhaled a protracted sigh. “In a way, it is,” he admitted softly as he trudged to the bed, turned around and sat down heavily beside her.

“You’re disgusted by it? Afraid of it? What?”

“No, no, nothing as simple as that,” he said as he caught up one of her hands and kissed it. He clutched it against his chest where she could feel his heart thumping hard against her wrist. “I’m falling in love with you, Laura.” A long pause ensued while she digested that before he added, “And I don’t want to.”

“I don’t blame you,” she said with a wry laugh. Laura plucked at the edge of the sheet with the fingers of her free hand. “Surely you realize what’s making you think this could be love. We’ve only known each other for three days. All this seems romantic to you, and tragic. You are a very compassionate person, Sean.”

“No, that’s not it. Something sparked the moment I first saw you. Before I knew about—” He stopped a moment, obviously unwilling to put her problem into words. “And then, of course, I do know what it’s like. Love, that is. It can be hell.”

Laura felt a sharp pang of jealousy barely tempered by compassion. She made her voice soft when she asked, “Your wife?”

He nodded.

“How did she die?” Laura had been told by her solicitor of the rumors surrounding the first Mrs. Wilder’s death. She hoped for Sean’s sake they weren’t true, but she thought she should know.

“She fell from a cliff,” he said, staring at the wall as though he could see into the past. “Ondine and I left London and went home to the house in Cornwall, where I attempted to clear the air between us. She wept that night.” He glanced at Laura and then away. “You see, she confessed to an affair with Wade Halloran before we married,” he stated in a flat tone. “Wade and I knew each other from Eton, and his family members were also Mother’s neighbors after she moved to Cornwall. Ondine swore things were over between them. So I forgave her.” Sean sighed and covered his eyes with one hand and shook his head sadly. “Then she told me…other things even more heartbreaking. Still I forgave her, though it wasn’t as easily done that time. She seemed all right when we said good-night.”

“When did she die?” Laura whispered.

“That next morning. Mother’s steward and I searched for her when we realized she was missing. We found Wade staring down at her body as it lay on the rocks just above the surf. He suddenly ran raving mad with grief. Only by using considerable force did I prevent his leaping after her. The authorities were forced to lock him away immediately for his own safety. Poor old Wade. I suppose he still languishes there in that locked room with his lost wits and his secrets.”

“Secrets? Was it…? Do you think she fell on purpose?”

Sean shook his head. “I don’t know. I truly don’t. Wade’s wild accusation, that I’d driven her to do such a thing, certainly made me wonder. But he obviously met Ondine there that morning for a reason. It occurred to me that maybe he pushed her, but I hate to believe that. Perhaps she jumped, as Wade declared, or fell accidentally. I suppose I’ll never know the truth. At any rate, she is dead and Wade ended as much a victim as she.”

“Oh, Sean,” Laura whispered, her heart aching for the pain he had obviously endured. “That must have been dreadful for you. Your wife and your friend. Such betrayal. I wonder how you stood it.”

“Not very well, I admit. I only brought it up to assure you that I do recognize what’s developing here between us. I did love Ondine at one time. I loved her very much.”

“And you lost her,” Laura added. “I can well understand why you wouldn’t want a repeat of that situation.”

He raked a hand through his hair and released a harsh breath. “God, it sounds so damned selfish of me when you put it that way! I do care so much for you already, Laura, but—”

“You don’t want to love me and suffer a grief you’ve already suffered once.” She patted his hand and squeezed it with reassurance. “That’s just good sense, Sean. Self-preservation. You mustn’t think for a moment that I fault you for it. I would feel exactly the same way in your place. You’re right, of course. The closer we become, the worse it will be for you. I really don’t want you to love me,” she lied, keeping her eyes averted so he wouldn’t guess what she really felt.

He remained silent, staring down at her hands clasping his.

“This simply won’t do. I should go home,” she decided with a succinct nod. “That’s the prudent thing, for both our sakes.”

“No!” His vehemence surprised her. “You can’t do that. I won’t let you.”

Laura frowned with frustration. “Well, we have to do something! Imagine how guilty I’ll feel at the end. Being left behind by someone you love has to be the worst feeling in the world.” She thought of her parents’ constant desertion and how it had affected her. Affected her still. “I refuse to hurt you that way,” she said. “I shall leave tomorrow.”

“I can’t let you go,” he whispered. “No matter what, I just can’t.”

Her hand wriggled out of his and she clamped it to the other so tightly her knuckles turned white. “Well, you’ll have to eventually, won’t you? For your sake we shall have to alter our relationship somehow. Or at least prevent its progressing into something more profound.” She considered for a moment. “Of course, you know that. That’s exactly what you have been trying to tell me, isn’t it? We can simply be friends,” she suggested. “Can’t we?”

“That did occur to me,” he said, wiping the sweat off his brow. “Yes, I think we must try.”

“Fine! It’s all settled then. No more of this playing at seduction, I promise. I was terribly clumsy at it anyway.” Her self-deprecating laughter sounded forced, even to her, but Sean joined her anyway. His sounded worse.

“You’re damned good at it, and you know it, you little minx.”

“Why, thank you! How nice of you to say so,” she said, preening theatrically. “I did have you going for a while there, didn’t I?”

Sean simply nodded, his eyes sad, his wide smile locked in place. He didn’t speak or move again for the longest time.

“I’m sorry, Laura,” he said finally. “I didn’t foresee this happening.”

She sighed and shrugged, fighting her disappointment. Time grew too short to waste any on regrets. “Oh, that’s all right, Sean. I wish you wouldn’t talk on so about it.”

He rose then and headed for the door. Grasping the handle, he turned and smiled. “Do me a favor, old chum?”

“Anything for a friend,” she said, relieved that he had regained his composure, and determined to hang on to hers.

“Lose the perfume and try to look ugly. Maybe develop a taste for garlic? I absolutely loathe the stuff.”

Laura laughed again, a real laugh this time. The rascal still had his sense of humor. And he really did want her. Maybe he wouldn’t mind a little flirtation later if she kept it light and funny. Perhaps, if they had enough time to become truly good friends, he wouldn’t resist a bit of superficial lovemaking.