Secrets of the Heart by Candace Camp Read Free Book Online Page A

about it now was enough to pierce his chest with pain. Michael sighed and dropped the curtain, walking away from the window. He wrapped his dressing gown around himself and slumped down in a chair, his gaze turning inward to the time over seven years ago when he discovered, only two days before the wedding, that his fiancée had eloped with another man.
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    Their wedding was to be celebrated here at Westhampton in the picturesque stone Norman church in the village, where all the earls of Westhampton had been married for longer than anyone could remember. The house was packed with friends and family who had come to celebrate the wedding, and still more were staying in the inn in the village and with Sir Edward Moreton, a neighbor whose kind lady had taken on the burden of lodging several of the wedding guests.
    It was a joyous occasion. Michael could not remember a time when he had been so happy. He thought that Rachel had been warming to him during the past few months. Once they were engaged, they had been allowed to spend more time together in comparative solitude. While Rachel’s mother or sister was always with them when he came to call on her, they now often sat discreetly apart from the engaged couple, allowing them to talk more freely. And at balls he was now allowed to dance with her more than twice in an evening without calling down gossip upon their heads.
    The fact that she seemed to like him more the more she was around him made him hopeful that he would be able to win her love completely once the massive production of the wedding was over and they were finally alone together.
    It was two days before the wedding, and as Michael strolled with Rachel from the music room after a convivial evening of song and merriment among their friends, he was thinking with anticipation of the time when they would at last be alone together. He did not intend to consummate their marriage that first night; it would be, he thought, too frightening for a young woman still virtually a stranger to him. No matter how much he wanted Rachel, he intended to take his time and build her trust in him, to awaken her gradually to passion. He had long ago vowed that no woman would suffer at his hands, and he certainly would not inflict any pain or fear upon Rachel, whom he loved.
    But it would be wonderful just to be alone with her, without the constant presence of a chaperon—to be able to talk with her, to laugh and do as they pleased, to get to know one another, to kiss and hold her, to take her hand, without anyone there to watch or gossip. There had been times in the last few months when he had wondered if that moment would ever arrive.
    Rachel, he thought, had been quieter than usual all evening, and as he looked down at her, it seemed to him that she was a trifle pale. She was, he supposed, nervous about the wedding approaching so rapidly.
    As they passed the conservatory, empty and dark, he took her arm and whisked her inside the door. Rachel looked up at him, startled, her eyes wide.
    â€œWhat is it?” she whispered.
    He smiled down at her. “No need to be frightened,” he told her.
    â€œWhat?” Rachel stared at him and let out an odd little laugh. “What do you mean? Frightened of what?”
    â€œI don’t know. The wedding. We’ll get through it well enough. Everyone always manages.”
    â€œOh. Yes, I suppose they do.” Rachel gave him a small smile. “I am a little nervous, I guess.”
    â€œDon’t worry. I shall be there with you. Just dig your fingers into my arm if you feel that you are about to faint. I’ll prop you up.”
    â€œAll right.”
    He thought that there was the glimmer of a tear in her eye, but she glanced away just then, and when she looked back up at him a moment later, he saw that her eyes were dry. Michael put his hand under her chin and gazed down into her face.
    â€œYou trust me, don’t you?” he asked softly. “Please