Hunters

XXIII. Innocence

XXIII. Innocence

When Vaughan woke to find Lecia still delicately arranged in his arms, he was relieved. It had not been another wearying dream. Recalling it all, the reality was much more satisfying than his fantasies.

"Will you tell me, then?" she had asked shyly.

Baffled, he'd replied, "what?"

"You said I've never been able to understand," she murmured, eyes cast down and drawing away.

She had raised herself to sit and peered down her perfect nose to see the dawning on his face.

Her hair had begun to tumble from its pile, the once central knot off to the side of her head. Now that she was upright there were more rebellious coils tight against her neck and some floating midway between captivity and freedom. Lecia didn't seem to mind it, truthfully neither did Vaughan, but seeing her then he needed to release the mass of her long and lovely hair so that he might finally touch it.

With the poise of a duke, he reached out and let loose the knot. With the determination of a man, he slid his hand behind her head and wrapped his fingers in her thick hair. With eloquence of a poet he said, "My cariad—my love—rwy'n dy garu di." With the tenderness of a lover, he placed a gentle kiss on her unmoving lips. And, with the urgency of a starved beast, he searched the seas of her eyes and felt for the beating of her heart.

Finding exuberance under his fingertips and anticipation in her brilliant gaze, Vaughan pulled his wife in close and pressed his rough cheek against the softness of hers to whisper, "I love you" in her ear.

Her touch grazed his skin so lightly that he was not sure it was real, but he did not imagine the steady hand the guided his face away. She had wanted to look at him, though not to confirm truths or see him grin if she echoed the sentiment. In fact, she could not speak—it was an effort even to breathe—and she had needed him to know that her eagerness matched his.

Relaxed then, as she slept soundly against his chest, he lay still so as not to wake her. He let her rest while he admired the transitions of the sky from sunrise to late morning. After some thought, he realized that there were no appropriate contemporary euphemisms to describe their actions. Lecia had almost always been a woman in the time he had known her; perhaps marriage had matured her, but even as a girl she was defined. In that regard, too, there was not anything missing from her now; she was as whole as when he had met her. If anything had changed, it was that she had bloomed rather than been pruned, but even that was not due to anything he had either taken or given.

Furthermore, he had never considered innocence to be anything more than an internal state of naivety and ignorance that could not be altered by an external force. There were men of the court who exhibited more innocence than children, yet they defined it a commodity of femininity that was easily bartered, traded, or bought. No, the Duke did not share that sentiment at all. Nor had he ever felt that it was sinful. Though, most others did and thus his reputation often preceded him, but maybe now that he had coupled affection and passion, even he saw some fault in those ways. Still, though, as his Duchess nestled herself into the hollows of his arms and neck and chest, he could not fathom a reproachful thing about her existence.

On the other hand, Vaughan was not impressed by his own behavior. There had, of course, been both consent and great restraint, he was concerned that it was too soon. She was still grieving, and despite their companionship being a comfort to both of them, he knew it was possible she had not known what it was they had done. Really, he worried that she might be regretful when she woke, and his heart simply could not take it.

But what would he know of love? He felt it, yes, but he had not often received it. Perhaps he was the innocent one.

After some time, Vaughan was beckoned from bed by his empty stomach. He called for Izzy to deliver breakfast to the apartment, and when the maid arrived with a tray of fruits and pastries, she reminded the Duke that he'd brought his wife home a gift.