Mixed Signals by Posh and Stoneygem
Part 11
"Joseph, this isn't necessary."
"Gotta get you warmed up."
He proceeded to carry her into the lounge and sit her down on the couch, she realised it was covered in protective sheets. She pulled the scarf from her head and ran a hand through her wet hair.
"Do you think we can get a fire going?"
"I suspect so."
She glanced down at him, occupied in tugging his gloves off with his teeth; his fingers must be too cold she thought absently. He went on to slide her soaking shoes off, the moment his hands touched the sole of her feet she flinched pulling away from him.
He held her still. "Let me help. Your feet are freezing." He was rubbing her toes and she had to admit it felt good.
His hands wandered up her damp legs and she shivered at his touch, disgusted with herself for reacting in such a manner.
For his part Joseph wasn't entirely comfortable performing the act, he too was disgusted at himself for his actions earlier. Touching her now seemed something of a luxury he didn't deserve.
He stopped at her knees and tugged her stockings down, lifting her leg and slipping them off her feet.
"I'll get you a towel, wrap them up and we'll see about this fire."
She nodded mutely, a little breathless, whether it be from his touch or the exertion of walking in all that snow she wasn't sure.
He held her feet staring up at her face, so deathly pale yet her cheeks burning.
"If we get the fire going the water will heat up, you can take a bath that will help…" he swallowed, not wanting to ask the next question but not wanting to avoid it either. "Still, uncomfortable?"
She shook her head. "No, not anymore."
"Good," he squeezed her toes. "Good."
She watched him putter around, searching for some dry wood and paper, putting all of it into the fireplace and getting the fire started. It took only a few minutes and she could hear the embers crackling. He held his hands close to the flames for a few minutes and she realized with yet another flash of guilt that he must be freezing himself. She stared at his back. He had not even taken his coat off and she could see that it was starting to drip from the hem. She should get up and help him, at least help him out of his wet things. If he didn't get into something dry and warm soon, he would catch a cold at the least.
Before she could make up her mind though, he had moved away from the fire and gone somewhere. Trying to follow him with her eyes, Clarisse took the opportunity to gauge her surroundings. The place looked almost like half a year ago, only this time it wasn't prepared for their arrival. The furniture was still covered in protective sheets, the shutters closed, the pantry probably empty and the whole house not really aired out.
It smelled like dead air, but underneath it there was a scent. A distinct one, she would discern everywhere. His aftershave. Mixed with something…
Her own perfume.
Clarisse closed her eyes und rubbed a hand wearily over her face. Of all places they had to seek refuge here. She was sitting on the sofa they had made love on the second afternoon. After they had had that incredibly wonderful late lunch
Or the chair next to the fireplace. He had sat in it that same evening and she on his lap, cuddling in front of the fire, the blanket over them. They had fallen asleep like that. His arm supporting her back, his other over her legs, her head on his chest, his heartbeat being her lullaby.
"The heater is working; I've started a bath for you. You'll be warm in no time." His voice came from behind her.
She was suddenly overcome with the need to hold him, to have him so physically close to her that she couldn't breathe. To never be separate from him again. To never argue with him again. It was unbearable; this distance between them was unbearable.
Instead she only nodded.
"Clarisse, are you all right?"
"All right?" She shook her head slowly standing up. "I think Joseph it's plain to see that things between us are far from being all right."
Moving to the fire she removed her wet coat and for a second stood relishing the warmth the quickly growing fire offered. She closed her eyes and took a breath before turning.
"Thank you for the bath." As she passed by him he caught her arm, forcing her to face him.
He stared at her so tenderly, saying so many things with such silent grace. She felt herself shiver beneath the gaze of his dark penetrating eyes.
"I am sorry." His voice sounded different, tight and forced. He raised a hand to her throat as he continued. "I can't believe I did that to you… marked perfection."
She could have snapped at him with a harsh comment about branding her but the truth was she really didn't mind the marks, they made her feel human, alive… besides she had no energy left for arguing with him.
"And I'm sorry for hurting you." She indicated his chest. "And I'm obviously far from perfection, as you have come to realise."
She stepped to move away from him but he held her.
"Are we going to carry on like this, side-stepping issues, behaving like children, dancing around each other."
"I'm not sure are we?" Her voice was clipped and nastier than she meant it to be. "I don't know Joseph, I'm not sure who 'we' are anymore."
"You said you wanted a divorce…" His voice faltered and she felt her stomach twist at the word.
"I was angry, I am angry. You've hurt me."
"And you've hurt me."
She stared at him blankly. "How? How when you're the one who…"
"The one who what exactly Clarisse, the one who did what?"
She hastily pulled her arm from his, fumbling over her words. "Don't make me feel guilty for you not being able to keep your trousers fastened, I was faithful."
"So was I," he couldn't get the words out quick enough, wanting to defend himself. "Do you really think any woman would compare, the way I feel for you, how could…"
"Don't, don't say things like that, lies." She quickly headed through the lounge to the stairs but he followed.
"Not lies, you doubt my sincerity, have you always… is that why you hesitated for so long? I thought it was my being a commoner."
She turned on the stairs. "I've never thought of you that way."
"Really? Not at all embarrassed to introduce me to your friends in royal circles are we your majesty." His almost spat the last words at her, drawing them out sarcastically.
She turned on her heel and disappeared upstairs.
"Oh no, you don't run away that easily." He bounded up the stairs two at a time and caught her on the landing, catching her hand and forcing her to be still.
"We talk about this now."
"No. I have nothing more to say."
"I do, I will tell you this one last time, it is categorically the truth. I have never in my life lied to you, not once, and I'm not lying now. I am not, and never have been, sleeping, screwing, fucking or having any other kind of dalliance with Ms. De Marcos. I won't stand you holding this against me when I haven't done it, I won't stand you treating me like this."
She swallowed, searching for her voice. "And how do you intend to stop me treating you like this?"
"Oh god Clarisse…" he spun round slamming his hand against the wall, utter frustration swimming over him. "How the hell?" he shook his head closing his eyes. "How the hell do you expect us to function in this marriage when I'm constantly compared to him, held up to somebody else's standards."
He faced her again; he was shaking, from head to foot, violently shaking. Not angry just so damn well frustrated, what else could he possibly do to convince her?
"I would never raise a hand to you, not in any argument, don't you think by now that's been proven? Don't you think my anger level is just about at boiling point? Because let me tell you it doesn't get much worse than this, you've pretty much pushed me to edge." Taking deep breaths he stepped closer to her, to his relief she didn't back away. "I would never harm you, and I would never be unfaithful to you. Do you doubt my love for you?"
She bit down on her lip determined not to cry in front of him.
"Do you doubt it Clarisse, do you?"
She shook her head, not daring to speak for fear of her voice breaking.
"Answer me, I need to know."
"No, no I don't doubt it."
"And yet you think I'm having an affair, after nine months?" He said incredulously. "If you only knew how you make me feel, how long I've wanted you, dreamt of being with you… "
"Then why won't you touch me?" She blurted out. "Why this distance, why avoid me, I look like a fool. The staff know, they gossip, and Mia and Charlotte… everyone knows but me." The tears couldn't be helped now and she sobbed uncontrollably trying to speak at the same time. "They all know, and I try so very hard to please you, behaving like some idiotic woman… and they're laughing at me, you are…"
"Nobody is laughing at you." Though still so aggravated and annoyed he couldn't stand there and watch her cry helplessly. He placed his hands on her upper arms, guiding her body closer to his. "I am not laughing at you, there is no affair, there never will be. The maids will always gossip, and Mia and Charlotte… Clarisse they care about you, about us, Charlotte knows the truth because she came to me and I was forced…"
"The truth?" She raised her head; tear filled eyes staring at him. "You share it with Charlotte yet you can't tell your own wife?"
"I wanted to protect you."
"From what damn it? Now I look like a fool because my assistant knows more about my marriage than I do, what truth Joseph, how can I trust you when you sneak around behind my back."
"I didn't want to hurt you."
"So you allow me to believe our marriage was over?"
"It wasn't meant go that far."
"Oh, oh well I apologise. I'm sorry if I've overreacted."
This time when she turned away from him he allowed her to enter the bathroom, flinching as she slammed the door. For a few minutes he stood outside listening to her continue to cry. Finally she stopped and he waited as she removed her clothes and slipped into the water. Only then did he go downstairs.
A gentle tap on the door rose Clarisse from her musings. She didn't grant him entrance but he came into the room anyway, standing at the foot of the bath looking at her, a mug in his hand.
"I brought you some Tea, there is no milk, I put a drop of whisky in."
"You should have just brought the whisky." She said glancing away from him, it didn't matter that he was looking at her naked; he'd seen it all before anyway, there was nothing to hide.
"Well…" He settled the mug on the side of the bath near her head. "I thought perhaps you needed to be coherent when I told you the truth."
He sat down on the floor next to her, leaning back against the wall, his knees raised, his hands resting on them.
"You must understand that none of this was done to hurt you, never was the thought further from my mind. I didn't tell you because it was too much, the wedding, the coronation, you were still guiding Mia, we know she struggled those first five months and you were as much the Queen as ever…"
She went to interrupt him but he held his hand up. "Let me finish. I never minded that, I had this new project, education, but well… that's superfluous. The point is this wasn't intentional, and I never meant it to go so far or cause either of us such pain. And I'm sorry for that, I truly am, but, well it's thrown some issues up darling don't you think."
He closed his eyes resting his head back wearily against the wall. It was only now she noted he was still wearing his damp clothes and how drawn his face looked.
"Issues that we've got to face, we can't simply gloss over them and carry on. Not if we want this marriage to work."
She felt her throat tighten, curled her hands up beneath the water pricking her skin with her nails.
"So, first thing's first. What's been going on." He opened his eyes again and levelled her with his gaze.
Presently he began to speak.
It must be something about this voice, she figured. Something in his voice. Something that made it sound so commanding, so light, so sincere or so sexy that it reduced her to a quivering mindless woman who could only beg for his touch. It was his voice, she knew.
Right now, it soothed her, like a lullaby.
She knew she should pay attention to what he was saying, but her eyes wereheavy from the warmth of the water and pure exhaustion. Yet she knew this was important. If she missed one piece of information now, she would never receive it.
"You were so upset by my plan to go on that security-training program, especially so soon after the Christmas rush. So angry. And I…" he sighed running a weary hand over his face. "I didn't really know what to do with myself. In a way, I guess, I was bored with the pace our…my life was taking."
Her eyes snapped open. Would this be the confession? The excuse?
"So that's why I ignored your plea and went anyway. After all, it wasn't my first training session, I got to be with the boys again, and I knew what to expect and I thought, I could swing it without problems." He rolled his eyes, apparently more at himself than anything else. "I was wrong."
The knot in her stomach tightened.
He looked at her face again and she could distinguish nervousness at the edges of his features. "You do know that we came home a day later than expected."
She nodded mutely. Where would this lead to?
"That was, because there was a little accident. Of course you found out that there'd be an accident, but you didn't know that it was me involved in it. During a rope climb, I lost my hold and fell several metres. From what the boys said, it wasn't a pretty picture, nor a pretty sound. They scraped me off the pasture and took me to a doctor."
She opened her mouth to ask how she hadn't known, but his voice effectively stopped her.
"The doctor, it was Anna's fiancé, found that I wasn't that badly injured. Only a few sore joints and bruises, though in rather delicate regions. He advised me to refrain from strenuous activity over the next few days until the bruises were gone. And yes, that included touching you." A sarcastic smile flashed over his face. "So, I was practically under doctor's orders to stay away from you."
Clarisse eyed him carefully. This might explain the beginning, but not…
"However, he also advised me to see a specialist. He said that my fall had not come from carelessness, but that my results showed signs of a mild heart attack."
She bit her lip in shock. Heart attack? Joseph? Never! He couldn't. He was so fit, so… so… so fit. He couldn't have a heart attack. Not him. He was doing all sorts of sports and he was muscled and thin and…and…not like Rupert… He couldn't…
"Naturally, I was in denial. I told him that it couldn't be, that I was making sure I stayed in shape. That I did sports and didn't smoke and watched my diet and whatnot. Adrian wouldn't hear of it. He sent me to Anna. Anna is a cardiologist and a friend. Actually, her parents were friends of mine in school. Her father still is one of my best friends. I was best man at his wedding, I was, am godfather of his oldest daughter - Anna. Jorge would probably kill me if I ever looked the wrong way at his daughter. Not that I would look at her like that." He smiled.
"Anna did a check up a day later, but it came back inconclusive. So, I had to wait and do the tests again and..."
"Why didn't you tell me? You say yourself you are a fit man, why would they make such a fuss?" Her voice was barely audible, yet he could hear the forcefulness in it. It made him cringe. Rupert had died of a heart condition, he knew, and despite everything it had shaken her to the core.
"The worry was justified, I'm afraid." This time he slid down to the floor and rubbed his hands against his face. Clarisse felt her heart swell with compassion. He looked so worried, so weary, so… scared.
His voice was almost toneless as he continued and she felt her heart constrict, the knot in her stomach tightened. She dug her nails deeper into her palms to keep her cool, to send him some of the control that seemed to be slipping away from him.
"My father died of a heart attack. So, did one of his brothers, my grandfather and two of his brothers. Two of my cousins have already been taken by a heart condition. It's inherited apparently. Anna said it could only be a matter of time until it would strike me too."
Finally, he looked up and fixed her with a tired gaze. She could barely swallow her gasp, when she saw his drawn face. How tired he looked and how old. How torturous those weeks of not knowing must have been. How long and worry laden. "Anna said that I should refrain from too much physical activity…"
"And that included no sex." Her voice was harsher than she had intended to, but slowly one thought trickled through her worry. He had not told her. He had hidden the fact that he might be seriously ill from her. He let her believe that he had lost interest in her, made her make a fool of herself in public and in private (she didn't dare think what her maids had thought, what the clerical staff had thought when they got a glimpse of her lingerie-orders), instead of telling her that he might be ill?
He only nodded. "Clarisse, believe me that was the hardest thing I ever had to do. You were…you are so enticing. I could gladly make it my general occupation to make love to you, no matter if you are wearing those flimsy things or something completely plain. You are always the most beautiful and exciting woman to me. There is no other, will never be another…"
"And yet, you kept information from me." Was her clipped reply. She rose from the water and he couldn't help but stare at her figure, following the path of the water droplets down her hips, over her breast, along her legs.
He closed his eyes and nodded again wincing slightly under her harsh tone.
"You kept this from me. You'd rather have me make a fool of myself than tell me the truth."
"I wanted to protect you…"
"I don't need protection!" She shouted at him, while wrapping a towel around herself. "Not like this Joseph."
"I..."
"No! No! You demand that I don't compare you to Rupert. How can you demand that and yet act exactly like him. Keeping secrets from me, ignoring me, pushing me away. I am tired of this, Joseph. Maybe you didn't have an affair with this woman; maybe you didn't cheat on me. But you betrayed me nonetheless. You say you love me. How am I supposed to believe that? How am I supposed to believe that? You don't trust me Joseph that is the problem. You accuse me of not trusting you, but do you trust me?" She let the towel fall and donned one of the robes hanging on a hook on the door.
"You can use the bath now…I recommend adding more hot water."
Almost mechanically, he reacted, got up from his sitting position and started to take off his clothes. The jacket, the tie, the ruined shirt…he didn't even know what he was doing. His body functioned from pure habit.
He barely registered her opening the door.
Just before she was about to close the bathroom door behind her, she looked at him again. "I have only one question, Joseph. Would you have told me one day or would you rather have left me, making me believe that you got bored of me?"
He didn't turn to answer her, what was the point; she already seemed to have made up her mind. She closed the door a little too sharply… in response he closed his eyes and allowed his head to fall back into the water.