Page 89 of Infamous

Chapter Thirty

‘For the love of God, it’sme.’

Nash released her, and Eddie sagged against a convenient tree, trying to breathe a little more evenly.

‘You left me,’ she said eventually, when her lungs permitted it.

Nash was staring at her, his eyes so dark they looked completely black. He had the beginnings of a beard, grown out slightly past the point of stubble, and Eddie reached out to test how it felt. It was softer than expected.

‘We did not leave you,’ Nash said. ‘Youleftus.’

That did not seem right, but Eddie’s hands were in Nash’s hair now, and she was thoroughly distracted.

‘Rose’s hair is soft,’ she said. It came out in almost a whimper. ‘So, so soft. Not like a cloud is soft. Like satin. Like drinking chocolate.’

Nash sighed. ‘Rose. I thought we had finally been rid of her, and yet here she is again.’

‘Where?’ said Eddie, glancing around, her heart lightening; it took her a moment to realise that he had been speaking metaphorically.

‘Do you know what the Greeks and the Romans did when they celebrated these rituals?’ Nash said.

His hands had somehow made it to the stock around her neck, which he was slowly loosening.

‘Died of exposure?’ Eddie ventured. ‘Or perhaps .?.?. poisoning?’

‘No,’ Nash said, raising an eyebrow. ‘They went to bed with each other.’

‘Oh,’ said Eddie, stunned into silence for a brief moment. ‘Wait .?.?. tobed, or to .?.?. soil? I thought these things always took place in the woods?’

‘I think you’re rather missing the point,’ said Nash, with a leonine smile.

It turned out that she was; Nash was making a start on the buttons of her waistcoat. The implications of this kicked in with around a five-second delay, and Eddie pushed at his hands ineffectually.

‘It’s cold, Nash. And I’m on a tree. In a tree? No, on. Definitely on. Could you just—’

He silenced her with a brief kiss, and then managed to untuck her shirt from her breeches; his hands were freezing on her waist, and Eddie let out a huff of shock.

‘You know,’ Nash said, his voice sounding odd and distant, as if he were trapped at the bottom of a well, ‘I have wanted to do this from the moment I saw you, gawping at me across the dinner table at Albert’s .?.?.’

Eddie closed her eyes, willing her mind to catch up with the rest of her.

‘Wait .?.?. But you did not invite me to your house because you liked thelookof me, it was because .?.?. you wanted to read my writing. You thought I had promise.’

Nash laughed quietly into her neck. ‘Come now. We are both quite grown-up, we can speak plainly to each other. I knew I would not rest until I touched you, and having touched you .?.?. it seems I only want you more. This is why we’rehere.?.?. This is what it’s all been leading to, Edie .?.?.’

Addled as she was, Eddie was of sound enough mind to register that she had just been dealt a severe blow. Nash did not seem to realise it – he was kissing her neck, the scratch of his beard no longer soft and pleasant – but she was rapidly going over their earliest meetings in her mind, all of them now cast in much harsher light.

Everybody had tried to warn her. Her mother. Lucy-Anne. Rose – God, so many times, Rose. Eddie had been so desperate to believe that Nash really had faith in her, that he had seen something in her that he would nurture and elevate to greatness, when all along it had been the oldest trick from the most ancient books.

Man meets woman. Mandeceives woman. Woman inevitably suffers the insufferable consequences.

‘My name isEddie.’

‘What?’ Nash mumbled, still kissing her. One of his hands had dipped dangerously low, thumbing along her hipbone.

‘It’sEddie, Nash. It’s not Edie. Just – getoffme.’

She pushed him away. Nash had the audacity to look wounded.