Page 23 of A Brush With Love at Brookview Hall (Noble Hearts)
“Julia.” That low, beguiling voice would be the end of her.
“Enough.” How could she control this flood of conflicting emotion?
She was angry with him, furious even, and frustrated, but also deeply worried and—quite against her will—still enticed by him.
She wanted to slap him and embrace him, to yell at him like an errant child, and to reach out and caress that handsome face.
She wanted him to confess his crimes, and to prove his innocence outright.
She wanted never to see him again, and to listen to him forever painting the beauty of his world in words that would move a poet.
What was she to do with such a man? What was she to do with herself?
She had no time for decisions, for he was before her now, his eyes boring into hers, pupils wide and dark. He began to speak, but let the words die, his mouth not quite closed.
“Julia…”
She took another step back, away from him.
“Julia!” There was urgency in his voice, and she began to grow scared. Those memories… that dream… Running through the halls, being summoned and taunted. Julia… Julia…
She stepped back again as fear began to close in on her. Suddenly, his hand shot out from nowhere to grab her roughly and jerk her towards him.
As unexpected as the whip of his arm that had grabbed her, a wall of panic came rushing towards her, threatening to crush her under its onslaught, a deluge of visions from that night six years ago that she would give anything to forget.
The world around her vanished. The sky, the sea, the landscape, even Cornelius himself, until all she could see were those two threatening eyes, narrow and cruel, and the hands that forced and threatened, that pushed and tore.
She could feel him , his hot and sour breath, the scrape of his fingernails over her soft flesh. The rasp of his vile words echoed in her ears, the sting of his hand still burned where it had struck her cheek. And then came the disgust, the terror, the shame.
She should strike out, kick and yell. That had saved her last time, if barely. But the more she struggled, the tighter the vice around her, pulling her, tugging her, dragging her…
“Julia?”
A sound, real and in the present, filtered through the haze of her nightmares.
“What is the matter? Julia, speak to me. You are safe now.”
A soft voice. Kind. Not like… not like him .
“Please, speak to me.”
Cornelius.
The panic began to subside. This was Cornelius. Kind and gentle. Careful and considerate. But he had seized her… Pulled her…
Julia blinked, and the world reformed.
She was there, in the warm sunshine, in Cornelius’ arms…
inches away from the cliff. Now she went cold with realisation.
She had been stepping backwards, away from him, without looking where she was going.
She had nearly fallen down that rocky precipice, onto the stone-strewn beach far too many feet below. She would surely have died.
Cornelius had saved her.
Tears born of shock flooded her eyes as her body dissolved into tremors.
Those arms, which moments before had seemed so threatening, now were her bastion of safety and she allowed herself to fall into their secure embrace.
This was Cornelius. She knew beyond any doubt that he would never harm her.
Safe, at last, she let him pull her deeper into his hold and she sobbed long and hard against his solid chest.
How could he be in league with the smugglers and still be so good?
“Oh, my sweet Julia,” he murmured. “My poor, dear one. What happened? What frightens you so much? Who did this to you?”
She pulled her head back to gape at him with tear-reddened eyes. She could not speak of it, not even now.
“Who was he, who hurt you so badly? Who crushed your spirit and stifled your flame? How can I ignite it again? How can I set you free?”
Unable to speak, she fell into his embrace once more. Here she felt safe. Strangely, incongruently, against all reason, against all judgement, she felt secure. Here, nothing could harm her.
Stupid, foolish girl , she chided herself.
He is a thief, a bad person . What madness was this that sent her arms around his shoulders?
Her rational mind said to push him away; her heart commanded her to stay.
She could not move, could not breathe. It was not only his proximity, the intimacy of his embrace, or the kindness in his every gesture.
No, it was his words that trapped her here.
He had offered this comfort, not commanded it; he had given her the supreme gift of refusal, where others would simply take what they wanted.
She knew, deep within herself and with complete certainty, that if she said no and stepped away, he would honour her will.
The tears slowed and stopped, but she did not pull away from him. Her bonnet must have fallen somewhere, for his face nuzzled in her hair and she felt him press gentle kisses on the top of her head. If she lifted her face to his, those lips might meet hers.
And then, as if imagining had transformed to reality, it was so. He was kissing her, gently, tenderly, passionately, and she was kissing him back, and it was lovely.
Nothing like?—
Cold reality drowned her dreams.
“Stop, Cornelius. I cannot do this. Please, let me be! What must you think of me, that I’ve allowed even this?” She put her palms against his chest and pushed away, shame turning her vision dark.
“What must I think?” He sounded hurt, shocked, perhaps.
“I think you are a beautiful woman whom I have come to care for and who I thought cared, just a bit, for me. It was a kiss, only a kiss. I intended nothing more, not—” He stopped, his jaw hanging loose.
“No! Who was the blighter? What did he do to you? I shall find him and make him pay.”
But Julia could not answer. Tears flooded her eyes with the memory of that previous, most unwanted touch, the feeling of those other reviled lips forcing themselves on hers.
“Come, Julia, tell me. Let me help.” Warm breath curled the soft words about her ears, but her brain was finally asserting itself over her heart.
“I cannot. You must leave. I promise not to tell Mr Derriscott what I know, but you must leave. Make an excuse, tell him anything, but go. I cannot risk this as well. Goodbye, Cornelius.”
And she turned towards the woods and ran.