The Undoing of a Libertine (Somerset Historicals 2)

“You are afraid? No, no, no, no, nooooo!”

A chill iced through him. He moved out of her and rolled her onto her back once more, holding her face, forcing her to look him in the eyes.

He saw only terror in hers.

“No! No, my sweet Gina. You are not afraid of me. It’s Jeremy! Your lover who adores you.”

Sobriety claimed him immediately. He continued to hold her face, but the look of terror stayed there, biting back at him. When he finally released her, she cringed away, scooting to

the far edge, up against the headboard. The look of shame and distress on her face before she covered up with her hands, killed him, just ripped right into him like a broadsword cleaving him apart.

“Jeremy?” she wailed.

“Oh, dear God. I’ve scared you. I’ve scared you to death. Oh, Gina, I’m so sorry. Sweetheart. Sorry. I’ve terrified you.” More weeping met his ears as he kept babbling the same thing over and over.

Jeremy reached out and touched her leg, feeling so very helpless. Gina flinched from the contact. She actually flinched at his touch, and he instantly knew the need to be sick.

Some of that scotch was going to come up! Now! He lurched from the bed and made it to the water closet just in time to heave his guts out. A second wave of retching and then a third passed before there was nothing left down there but roiling guts.

A gentle hand landed on his shoulder and then a cool, wet cloth was proffered. Dazed at first, he took the cloth anyway and pressed it to his face, heaved himself up from the floor, and told her, “I hate that I’ve frightened you. I don’t ever want to hurt you, but I know I will. I’ll hurt and scare you over and over again because I am a beast when I fu—”

She stood there beautiful in a yellow shift, looking like a goddess but unable to meet his eyes. She hugged her arms and stared at the floor, her chin propped on crossed arms.

He shook his head back and forth. “I’m not fit for you, Gina.”

“Jeremy,” she whispered, “no.”

He sighed heavily, feeling utterly lost. “I’m going to go.”

Silence.

He moved toward the door, not sure how his feet were managing to take him there, his heart aching at the thought of leaving her behind.

* * * *

Jeremy’s declaration to sleep apart from her was motivation enough. It careened Georgina back to the here and now. This was her husband, not some criminal rapist. Jeremy—her lover. And it was really the shock of remembering that paralyzed her, not what Jeremy had just done to her in their bed. Georgina had never recalled the details until now—

“No!” she cried. “I can’t be alone here, Jeremy!” She grabbed his arm to stay him. “I don’t want you to go. I’m sorry I panicked. For the first time, I—I remembered things about—about what happened that day,” she panted, hurrying to get the words out. Swallowing hard, she attempted a calm tone. “Please stay with me. I know that it’s you. Not—not him. And you did not hurt me.”

Jeremy seemed shocked by her request. He hung his head. “Yes, I did! I saw your face, how you looked at me. You were terrified of me.” He scrubbed his hands over his face. “I’ll only frighten you again.”

“You won’t.” She shook her head emphatically.

“I will, Gina. I will frighten you again because I cannot help the way I am when I want to fu—when I want to make love to you. Which is whenever I’m near you.” He looked into her eyes helplessly. “You incite me. I always want you, but it was wrong of me to demand this from you, to expect you to put up with—”

“And I want you, Jeremy. It’s not you when we make love that frightens me. Something tonight sparked a memory. You took me by surprise, awakening me from sleep like that.” She tried to explain without losing her composure. “You came to me from…behind…and I smelled the drink on you, and you said you wanted to ‘fuck’ me, and for a moment it was reminiscent of—of him.” She heard Jeremy gasp, not knowing if it was from disgust or remorse, but forged ahead anyway. “He said that, and he was drunk, and he—he—he did it like that.”

It got deathly quiet in the room. Jeremy was frozen stiff before her, his face a mask of remorse as he took in her description of that time, on that day in June, with the monster who had ruined her. And as bad as that day was and the fear she known then, it felt worse right now telling him about it. What if Jeremy didn’t want her anymore, couldn’t be with her because of what he now knew? Fresh panic hit her—the panic of losing him.

“I did not remember everything until just now!” She dropped to the floor, putting her head at his feet. “I am so, so sorry, Jeremy, my husband. I panicked and knew not where I was or with whom. I lost my mind for a moment.”

He slumped down to meet her on the floor, pulled her head onto his lap, and stroked her hair. After a while, he spoke, “I scare you half to death, and yet you apologize to me? I should be begging your pardon for my beastly actions. I am so ashamed.” He gently held her face to look up at him. “Can you ever forgive me?”

“Yes! A thousand times, yes! If you don’t go and you stay with me.”

He did stay, but the mood was somber. Both of them nursed their own regrets in the dark, their misgivings like a blanket that did not give much warmth or comfort. Georgina felt the change between them. Jeremy had doubts about her now. She remembered everything that had been done to her…now. And the worst part of all? Jeremy knew it.

Chapter Twenty-Seven