Sweet Awakening by Marjorie Farrell Page B

Giles?”
    “I just wish I liked Rainsborough better.”
    “You could hardly expect to like your rival, Giles!”
    “No, I don’t mean I need to become his friend. It is just that he seems ... I don’t know ... too charming ... too handsome.”
    “He also seems to love Clare very much, Giles,” said Sabrina hesitantly. “She told me that for the first time in her life, she felt someone really needed her.”
    “ I need her, damn it,” said Giles bitterly, as he sat up and took a drink from the bottle of cider. “But she never knew that, did she? She thought I only loved her as a friend and was going to offer for her because it was the expected and comfortable thing to do. That is what hurts the most, Sabrina. That I have only myself to blame for all this.”
    “You can’t blame yourself for Rainsborough’s existence, Giles. They fell in love. It happens all the time.”
    “I know, I know.”
    “At least you will speak of it now. I was worried about you, Giles.”
    “You don’t need to. I will survive this. Coming home without her was very hard. But I am used to it now. By the time I see her in London this fall, I am sure I will be able to look at her as an old and dear friend. My love started as friendship, so I am trusting that it can be that again.”
    “I am sure it can, Giles,” said his sister reassuringly. But she was not sure at all, and she knew that he wasn’t either.
     

Chapter Seven
     
September, 1816
     
    “You look exquisite, my dear.”
    “Thank you, Justin,” Clare smiled at her husband’s image in the pier glass.
    “Here, let me fasten that for you. You can go, Martha.”
    Clare shivered as his hands brushed her neck. The sapphire and diamond choker he had given her as his wedding gift fit snugly around her throat and matched the blue of her silk gown perfectly.
    “What is exquisite is this necklace, Justin,” said Clare. “I am almost afraid to wear it.”
    “Nonsense, my dear.” Justin leaned closer and kissed her right where her shoulder met her neck, and then turned her face to his for a long kiss.
    “I suppose we have to go to the ball,” he groaned, pulling away at last.
    Clare laughed. “Of course we do. It would look very odd, indeed, if we avoided Lady Bellingham.”
    “Well, I warn you, Clare, I am going to be a very unfashionable husband and claim as many dances as I can. I hate sharing you with anyone.” He leaned down and kissed her again, and Clare gave herself over to the delight of being so cherished. Of course, by the time their kiss was over, her hair was no longer perfect, and Martha had to be summoned back. And, as had been their pattern this Little Season, they arrived late to the Bellingham ball.
    “How many minutes tonight, Bertie?”
    “Twenty-seven and a half. It looks like Crewe is closest again.”
    “Lady Rainsborough looks delightfully flushed tonight, don’t you know,” said Crewe, pocketing his money.
    “Damn. You would think that after a few months of marriage, they wouldn’t still be in one another’s pockets.”
    “I know his sort,” said Marlow, looking over to where Justin was hovering over his wife as she greeted their host and hostess. “Won’t let her out of his sight. Wants her all to himself.”
    “Even I admit it is quite romantic,” said Crewe with a mock sigh.
    “I suppose you could call it that,” said Marlow, with a shuttered look. “My father was like that with my mother,” he added and left abruptly, leaving his companions nonplussed.
    "Tomorrow, I am betting on a half hour.”
    “Ah, but look at the way he is leading her out onto the floor, Crewe. Forty minutes, at least.”
    * * * *
    Clare loved dancing with her husband almost as much as making love with him. Although she was unaware of the more vulgar comments, she knew that people were amused at the Rainsboroughs’ devotion to one another. Let them laugh. She didn’t care, for she and Justin had something that most couples could only dream about.
    She