chose to take me. I made the offer. It was he who rejected it, not me.”
“You did it to save a friend,” he said, touching her shoulder again. This time she let his hand rest there. “We all know the Bible quotation ‘Greater love hath no man than this, that he lay down his life for his friends.’ Or something like that—I am not sure I have it word perfect. You were prepared to give something of perhaps even greater value than your life, Marged. I can only honor you for it.”
Was it such a sacrifice to give herself to Geraint Penderyn that she had suffered this anguish? He could feel the anguish—and the guilt—being passed on to him.
He turned her then and even in the darkness he could see her eyes huge with tears. He drew her against him and kissed her. “Let’s go inside,” he said.
But she was still not relaxed. She drew back her head and gazed at him. “That is not all,” she said. “I have to tell you the rest.”
“What, cariad?” he asked her.
“I wanted to,” she blurted, and she stiffened against his hands. “I don’t understand it, but I have to tell you the truth. I love you. I love you with all my heart, though even that seems absurd when I know so little about you. And I hate him with all my heart. And yet I wanted him. It horrifies me, yet it is true. So I was unfaithful, you see, for I was not only willing but even eager. I will walk down to Ty-Gwyn now and you can ride safely home. I will—perhaps I will not come out the next time we are called. In fact I definitely will not. Forgive me. I did not mean to—”
“Marged.” He pulled her hard against him. He did not believe it was possible to feel so elated and so wretched all at the same time. She had wanted him. And with Marged desire would never be just a physical thing. If she did not hate him so much, and with such good reason, she would love him again. And surely something in her subconscious mind was putting the two of them together—Geraint and Rebecca—and understanding the connection.
And yet there was wretchedness. She had been startlingly honest with him, and yet in his dealings with her as Rebecca he had been nothing but deceitful and dishonest. What he should do, he thought, was tell her the truth right now. He owed her the truth. And no matter what her reaction, he knew her well enough to know that she would not betray him.
“Marged,” he said, “there are things in all our lives that we are ashamed of. There are many in my life.”
“Don’t tell me,” she said quickly, looking up into his face again. “Don’t say any more. If you feel you must make confessions of your own just to make me feel better, don’t. I feel bruised and battered. All I have to believe in at the moment is you and my love for you. Don’t say any more tonight. Can you forgive me? If not, let me go home with no more said. If you can, then let us make love. I need you—if you will still have me.”
He gazed into her shadowed eyes. It was tempting. So tempting.
“Please,” she said. “Say yes or no. Nothing more than that. I could not stand more than that tonight.”
“Let us go inside, then,” he said. “I love you, Marged.”
He could see that she was smiling. “One day you will tell me everything,” she said, “all the sordid details of your life. But not tonight. This is the first night when I do not even want to know. I want to love. I want to prove to you and to myself that only you matter to me.”
“We will love,” he said, guiding her through the doorway and over to the dark corner where they had lain before. “I am on fire for you, cariad.”
He spread the blanket and lowered them both to it.
She lay relaxed and sated in his arms. He was asleep, something he rarely did during their encounters. She felt happy again. She knew that she was where she wanted to be, where she belonged. Whatever it was that had happened with Geraint two days ago, it was not love. She had confessed all to Rebecca, and he had accepted it. It had made no difference to his feelings. He was a man