Marabelle actually sagged with relief and Giabella felt a swell of certainty at her decision. The rest would be dealt with later. But this was right. When she glanced at Dash again, she found him watching her closely, wonder in his gaze. Adoration. Love.
Oh yes, she saw his love for her and her own called back in that charged moment. And for what?
She cleared her throat and forced her official state smile back to her lips. “And now we must talk of less difficult subjects. You were telling me about a book that I think Mr. Talbot would also have great interest in.”
Dash leaned forward, but beneath the table she felt the gentle brush of his boot along her slipper. A movement of support and kindness that buoyed her as Marabelle began to talk of other things. And it became a supper of unlikely friends.
And she was able, at least for a little while, to push down all the emotions stirred by this encounter. Ones that she feared would wash over her later.
Marabelle Fowler must have sensed the same thing Dash did about Giabella’s fragile state, because she excused herself very swiftly after supper ended. They stood on the front stairs, waving as her carriage moved away. As it disappeared from view around a bend in the drive, Giabella drooped.
He caught her elbow and gently guided her inside. They could have gone to a parlor, of course. Shared drinks like any normal night. Instead, he took her upstairs, back to her chamber. Betsy was in the room as they entered the antechamber. Her expression became concerned as she saw the queen’s face.
“Your Majesty?” she murmured, coming forward.
Dash shook his head. “She is fine, Betsy. Just needs a moment. Will you excuse us?”
Betsy gave him a long look and then curtseyed. “I’ll be ready for you to ring if you need anything.”
Dash flinched as she left. He’d known the maid for over a decade, as long as he’d served Giabella. They had often worked together to ensure the queen’s schedule was as easy as possible for her. It was evident Betsy had seen something in him when she looked at him tonight.
He could no longer hide his heart, it seemed.
“I’m sorry,” Giabella said softly, detangling herself from his grip and moving across the antechamber to the window, where she looked out into the darkness.
“You need never be sorry,” he said. “Not with me.”
“No, I suppose not,” she said without looking at him. “You have already seen it all. Me at my worst and my best. In grief and in anger. What all the rest of the world has never seen.”
“And all it does is prove to me how amazing you are,” he said, stepping toward her but not touching her. He didn’t want to invade her space in this moment of pain.
She pivoted to face him. “Amazing?” she repeated on a laugh. “I did not feel amazing tonight. I felt…so foolish, Dash.”
The tears came into her eyes then and he could no longer stay away. He crossed the rest of the way to her and caught her in his arms, guiding her to the same settee where he had pleasured her earlier in the afternoon. Now he cradled her against his chest there, feeling her breath shake in and out of her.
“Why foolish?” he asked. “Because of your husband?”
“Yes,” she whispered against his neck, her warm breath teasing his skin through the folds of his cravat. “Because of the fool my husband made me. Over and over again, sometimes in my own house. Often in the bed I should have shared with him, so I could hear him through the door while I lay awake in the queen’s chamber.” She drew a shaky breath, harsh memories playing over her face in a picture he hated to see. “And now there is living, walking proof in that remarkable young woman who just left us with all her spark and verve and dreams for a greater future. The one with his eyes.”
Dash clenched his jaw. “Gia, if I could have stopped him from hurting you—”
She pushed away slightly and stared up at him. “You couldn’t have. And if you had tried he would have had you sacked…or worse.” She shivered. “He was an immovable object. And he didn’t care who he damaged. In fact, I think he sometimes took pride in it.”
Dash took her hands and held them gently between his own. “It was difficult to watch from the sidelines and never do anything.”
She pulled one hand from his and placed it against his cheek. “You think you did nothing? Dash, you were my lifeline for ten long years. Your kindness, our connection, they were the little moments I looked forward to each day. And, when he was particularly cruel, the moments that kept me from giving up. You were everything to me, wrong as that might have been.”
He stared at her. Earlier in the day, Giabella had said she cared for him. A rather tepid sentiment in comparison to the fire of love that he felt for her. But this…this admission was different. And it meant so much that he ached for her.
She lifted toward him. “You’ve been my fantasy since the first moment I met you, Dash. And I would very much like to fulfill it again.”
He nodded as their lips met. It was gentle this time, warm and loving as he slid his fingers into her hair and angled her face to kiss her more deeply. For what felt like a very long time, they just kissed. Like they were young lovers just discovering each other, and he reveled in every soft sigh, in each time her fingers clenched against his forearms.
“Take me to bed,” she murmured at last.
He shuddered at the request, his entire body throbbing with the anticipation of doing just that. He got up, drawing her with him, and threaded his fingers through hers. They moved together to the big bed and he turned her around so he could unfasten her dress.
“You look so beautiful tonight,” he said, pressing a kiss to the base of her neck, just below her hairline. He breathed her in as he did so, that intoxicating combination of lemon and lavender that always clung to her hair and skin. How many times had he caught it on the air when he leaned in to assist her and wanted to do exactly what he was doing now?
Which was why he had to savor it.
“I wore the dress for you,” she admitted, her voice shaky as he slid the gown forward. “You always liked it, didn’t you?”
He nodded against her shoulder, pressing light kisses along the line of her body before he looped his fingers under the chemise and drew it down. Together they shoved both dress and undergarments past her hips, and she was naked save her stockings. She slid her slippers off and turned into him, pressing her soft curves against him and finding his mouth.
He let his hands roam, down her sides, over her hips, around to cup her backside and lift her against his rapidly hardening cock. God, but she drove him wild. Woke some rakish part that he hadn’t believed existed in his staid and controlled life.
He found he liked having that hidden part that was only for her. Always for her.
He lifted her to the edge of the bed, nudging between her legs and pressing their bodies even closer. Her fingers went into his hair, she pressed against him with a shudder and her kiss grew wild and heated and raw.
“I need you,” she whimpered into his mouth.
He nodded again and stepped back, leaving the warmth of the circle of her arms just long enough to shed his own clothing in record time. She watched him as she pushed herself back on her pillows in the middle of the big bed. Every time he removed an item, her pupils dilated and she shocked him by placing a hand between her legs to touch herself.