"Is there something that you've remembered that has you worried?" she asked at length, after he had rebuffed all of her conversational efforts.
"Not exactly."
"Well, what-"
"Please, Sarah, I know you mean well. But there are some things that a man simply does not discuss with a lady."
"I see. Er, is it someone you remember?"
"I'm not sure. I think so." He took a deep breath. "Look, Sarah, there's no polite way to say any of this. So I'm just going to come right out with it, even at the risk of offending you. I have to be honest with you." He took a deep, ragged breath. "I do consider you the dearest friend I've ever had, and I would never want to hurt you. You're not a foolish woman. You must see the way things are between us. I'm very attracted to you. But I could never act upon it. I'm beginning to wonder if it's such a good idea my staying here. You're such a, well, a temptation to me in many respects, and I'm a selfish man to take up so much of your time. Perhaps I should go to an inn and wait until your brother returns."
She stared at him for a moment. A temptation? Her? She was stunned, but rather pleased with the notion. It made her sound like something other than a dull spinsterish vicar's sister.
"You're much more comfortable here than you could possibly be in a public place with strangers. I'm not sure what has you so upset, but -"
"I was in your room last night," he blurted out.
"Yes?" she said, feeling all the blood rushing to her face, and the breath surging into her throat like a fist.
"I kissed you, touched you. You know, the way we did the other morning," he confessed in an agonized whisper. "Only worse. I touched all of you. Everywhere." He swallowed hard. "You were sleeping naked. I can't tell you how excited I became."
She tried to suppress the shudder of desire and panic which coursed through her. She'd been right. It had been him stroking her to that heated dampness and rowelling sense of urgent need. "And?"
He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "And nothing."
"Why did you not wake me? Why did you stop, er, touching me?" she asked softly, though even thinking the question opened up a world of possibilities. And admitting to both him and herself most of all that she wanted him. Despite reason, honor, decency, common sense, the consequences which loomed, she wanted him.
Oh Lord, she prayed. Help me to do the right thing. Even if it means doing the wrong one.
"Because I felt so hopeless," he sighed.
She sat up straight. "Hopeless? I don't understand." She was fearful now, recalling only too well the subject of suicide and despair. Her palms sweated, and her need and fear were palpable in the small of her back and the nape of her neck.
"How could you? You're a sheltered young lady from a decent family. You can't possibly understand about men like me."
"You're a good man, Alexander. You've been injured, alone. For a long time. And men have certain needs, I've been told. I've volunteered in the clinic, spoken to women from all walks of life, helped deliver babies. I'm not that naive. I know how, well, rams and ewes get lambs, if that's what you mean," she said, her cheeks heating.
He snorted bitterly. "Not exactly the most romantic comparison, but yes, that is what I mean. Except as much as my mind tells me I want to um, tup you, I fear my injuries have left me naught but a wedder."
She stared at him. "Oh, um, did you, uh, I mean-" She blushed and tried again. "Are you injured down there as well?"
"No, that's just it. I'm not."
"Did you talk to Caleb?"
"I can't believe we're talking about this over the bloody chessboard!" he shouted, standing up, and running the fingers of both hands through his flowing dark locks in frustration.
She stood up and approached him tentatively.
He turned his face away from her, and a spirit of determination rose up within her, though it was probably the last thing she should have been feeling. For it would only bring about ruin.
And joy too, her heart whispered, as she felt her struggle with her conscience evaporating like the mist of a summer's morning in the face of his obvious agony. "I'm sorry. I know I'm inexperienced, but I'm trying to understand. Really."
"What is there to understand other than what I've told you?" he ground out.
She grasped his arm and turned him to face her. "But your blindness isn't physical, is it? Not according to the doctor. Might not this be the same thing?"
He sighed and threw his hands wide in a gesture of despair. "I don't know anything any more, Sarah. All I know is I recall what it's supposed to be like between a man and a woman. What we have is not all that it should be. I desire you more than anything I've ever wanted in this lifetime, but it's mostly in my mind, not fully in my body.