Midnight's Wild Passion

He glowered at his sister. “You don’t need to lie anymore, Eloise.”

“I’ve taken my vows.”

“Under duress. I’m sure allowance can be made.”

Eloise still smiled. “I didn’t take my vows under duress. I took my vows because what happened when I was eighteen delivered me to my destiny.” This time she managed to pull her hands free. The act seemed symbolic to Antonia, as if she claimed a space Nicholas couldn’t share.

“But Father exiled you against your will.” Nicholas looked strangely bereft.

In silent support, Antonia took one of his hands. His fingers laced through hers with a swiftness that betrayed how difficult he found this conversation. He’d spent most of his life certain that Eloise was a prisoner. It must be a painful shock to discover his mistake, much as she knew he didn’t wish his sister unhappy.

“Of course I was miserable when I arrived. Miserable and ashamed because I’d sinned and I knew it.” She paused and for the first time, regret laced her voice. “My wickedness led to my baby’s death. For twenty years I’ve prayed for God’s mercy and offered penance for what I did.”

For an agonizing moment, the tiny ghost of Eloise’s lost daughter hovered in the silent air. Eloise looked pale and sad while Nicholas vibrated with outraged sorrow. Antonia’s grip on his hand tightened.

“That bastard Demarest seduced you,” Nicholas eventually said through gritted teeth.

Antonia squeezed his hand to remind him where they were. Since her marriage, she’d seen neither Cassie nor Mr. Demarest. In any just world, Demarest should suffer for ruining Eloise, but he continued as he always had. Perhaps rescuing Antonia counted in his favor in the universal balance.

Antonia still cherished hope that she and Cassie might resume their closeness. They wrote regularly but her father had forbidden Cassie to accept Antonia’s invitations to Keddon Hall.

Finally Cassie had summoned courage to ask her father about Eloise, but he’d snapped her down and refused to discuss it. He’d blamed Antonia and her new husband for putting ridiculous fancies into his daughter’s head. Antonia was well aware how Godfrey Demarest reacted when he was caught wrong-footed, and this anger was typical.

Cassie had confided that she was unsure she’d ever surmount the coldness that now existed between her and her father. So perhaps there was justice after all. Losing his daughter’s unconditional love, Godfrey Demarest paid in some measure for his misdeeds.

Eloise drew her serenity around her like a cloak. “I long ago forgave him.”

“I didn’t,” Nicholas snapped. “I never will.”

A bell tolled in the distance. With the grace that invested her every movement, Eloise stood. There was a composed strength about Sister Mary Therese that made Antonia immediately accept that this woman had no quarrel with her circumstances.

Eloise’s glance at Nicholas conveyed a wealth of love and a stubbornness that Antonia

had long ago recognized as a Challoner trait. “I’m sorry. Both that you’ve come here under a misapprehension and that our meeting was so short. I must prepare for Vespers. If you don’t leave soon, you’ll be on those awful roads after dark. I don’t recommend that.”

Nicholas and Antonia stood too. “It’s been wonderful to meet you,” Antonia said. Beside her, Nicholas was taut with emotion.

Anger? Disappointment? Surprise?

A flash of a smile from Eloise. Again Antonia thought how beautiful she was. “If you’re staying in the area, I’d love to welcome you back tomorrow and show you our farm. I’ve instituted some improvements I think you’ll find interesting.”

Nicholas inhaled and Antonia tensed for his answer. If this meeting ended in bitterness, she’d hate herself. Her husband needed to absolve himself of his part in Eloise’s fate.

His response emerged steadily and with a warmth she couldn’t mistake. “I’d like that very much.”

Antonia released a relieved breath. It was going to be all right.

Eloise bowed her head as if acknowledging a victory. “Shall we say ten tomorrow? You’re welcome to join us for Mass and a simple meal at midday.”

As their shabby coach retreated from the convent, Nicholas remained quiet. Antonia didn’t intrude upon his meditations. Difficult to meet a beloved sister after twenty years. More difficult still to come to terms with reality after so many false assumptions.

Only once the convent was well behind them did he release a shuddering sigh and turn to her. With a desperation she felt to her bones, he dragged her into his arms, crushing her tight against the carriage’s jolting. She closed her eyes and slid her arms around his waist. Her heart overflowed with love and the longing to stanch his wounds.

For several miles, they remained wrapped in wordless communion. Slowly the shaking tension drained from his body. She tightened her hold, knowing he drew strength from her steadfast love.

Eventually he kissed the side of her neck. She shivered with immediate response.

“I want you.” His velvety murmur set anticipation humming in her veins.