Her story

*Zac*
She takes the snifter from me, setting it aside. She holds my hand with one of mine and with the other she trails her fingers over the scar, as though reading a tale. “It was late. Dark. Only a sliver of a moon in the sky. I should have been in my room in the northwest tower, but sleep eluded me. Which is odd, as I was exhausted from my turn at scrubbing the floors. Lady S could not tolerate the filth. Neither could I. A man should have a clean place in which to die.”

Tightening her hold on my hand, she shakes her head quickly, as though her story has taken a turn she doesn't wish it to take, and she needs to get it out of her mind. she once again begins dancing her fingers over my damaged skin. “It was dark, late. I was walking”.

She is repeating herself and I might suspect she is delaying getting to the meat of the story, perhaps even regretting that she had ever begun it.

“There were other buildings. Few people were about because of the lateness of the hour. I felt safe. The vampires were a danger, but they weren’t near us. I never thought I needed to fear those she had come to help.” She tells me.

My entire body stiffens, my hand closes over hers. I shift nearer and with my free hand, I cradle her cheek and spots the freckle I had missed before. It is ludicrous to notice something so trivial at a moment like this, but I recognize the distraction for what it is. I dread hearing the rest because I am fairly certain I know where the story is going and it takes everything within me to act disaffected, not to display the driving need I have to get up and smash something.

I shiver, and her golden brown eyes take on a faraway, haunted look. “There were three men. One a big, brutish fellow. Another slightly shorter and reed thin. The last was an even smaller chap. I don’t know why, but when they emerged from the shadows I immediately thought of a tale about three bears that my childhood nursemaid had told me."

I can feel the slightest of tremors in her hands, the one I hold and the one that continues to stroke me. I want to beg her not to carry on with the story, but I sense that she needs to unburden herself, so for her sake, I hold my tongue. If she had borne the reality of it, I can bear the retelling. But I am haunted with the realization that if I had not lost my memories, she would not have to tell me. I would have known. I could have spared her this torment.

“They were well into their cups," She continues, her voice faint. “They grabbed me, dragged me between two buildings.”

My healing thigh begins to ache unbearably from the tension pouring into it.

“I tried to discourage them from their purpose but they were of a mind like so many others that a woman willing to tend to men, who doesn’t shy away from bathing them and assisting them with their personal needs, is of low moral character. That I was a trollop. I screamed and fought, all the while knowing there was no hope for it. I could not fend them off. I would be ruined.” She says slowly.

My heart is hammering as though I am standing in that alleyway with her. The hairs on the back of my neck are rising.

I lift my gaze to hers. “And then I heard the voice of my salvation. ‘See here, lads, that's not the way to go about charming a lady into lifting her skirts’.”

I swallow.

“‘She ain’t no lady,’ the brute said.” She continues. “‘You’ll feel a sight differently when it’s your blood spilling on the floor that she's mopping. Leave her be’.”

I blink slowly.

“You swaggered toward us, so calm, so poised. I knew who you were, of course. I had changed the bandages on your arm.” She explains.

I touch it now, the place where the scars are so thick that I have often wondered if I had come close to losing it. Only through her do I know now that I had.

“Wiped your brow. Brought you soup. You had been discharged that afternoon. I
thought you were on your way back to the regiment. But there you were, so strong, so cocky. They would have none of it, though. It didn’t matter that you were their superior in rank. They were like animals. They mistook you for a gentleman playing at
soldiering.” She turns her attention back to my scarred knuckles.

I watch her as she kisses them softly, and I shudder with the stark need to find those men and beat them into bloody pulps. “You hit the brute who was holding me with such quickness that he had no time to react and with such force that I heard the sickening crack of his jawbone. He landed with a hard thud. He didn't get up. The others ran off. You lifted me into your arms and carried me to a distant corner, crouched in the snow, and held me in your lap, soothing me while I wept.” Her eyes rise to meet and hold mine. “You were with me until dawn."

Sometime during the telling of her tale, she has shifted so her knees are no longer raised, but are resting between us on the cushion. She lowers my hand to her lap, but doesn’t let go.

I am still cradling her cheek. I skim my thumb over the curve of it. “I take it that eventually I did more than hold you.”

A deep red blush instantly flushes her face.

“Do you feel I took advantage?” I ask softly.

“No, like every other nurse, I fancied myself in love with you.” She mumbles.

I have always had a talent for making women fall in love with me. I had taken immense pride in it. All of a sudden, I am feeling rather nauseous. I want to believe that I had been gallant enough to withhold my lust if the situation warranted. But my needs when it comes to women have always been powerful.

“I’m sorry I don't remember that night of gallantry. I'm afraid I can't share your conviction that I didn’t take advantage." I admit.

“The time I spent with you is the most wondrous of my life. You erased the memories of their vileness. I'm not sure, without your comfort, if I would have ever been able to stand to have another man touch me. Everything that happened there was so intense. It was as though each moment encompassed a lifetime. In the months that followed, when despair struck me over the deplorable conditions under which we were striving to save lives, those memories of the time I was with you saw me through, gave me hope to know there was something better.” She tells.

I look at her. “Then why are you so wary of me?”

“Because you don’t remember me, and it is as though we are beginning anew. And so much has transpired in my life that I'm not certain I'm the same girl that I was. Or that you’re the same man." She explains.

All I know is that I am not the same man who had shared tea with Djuna. I have changed in many ways but not in all ways. Of that I am certain.

I work my hand free of her hold, slipping my arms beneath her.

“What are you doing?” She asks.

“You trusted me that night. In spite of the fact that what happened with those brutes should have made it difficult for you to trust any man. You trusted me. We were together until dawn. Trust me again, Callie. Tonight. I will hold the nightmares at
bay. I will give you a sleep so deep …”.

She shakes her head. “No, I will not risk getting with child. It is so unfair"

“That night, did I use my mouth?” I ask her.

“You kissed me, yes.” She says.

“Did I kiss you …,” I dip my gaze to her lap, then hold her eyes steadily. “Did I kiss you everywhere?”

Her lips slightly parted, she barely shakes her head this time.

“Then let me give you this gift. It is all that will relieve the guilt and worry that perhaps I did take advantage and you were either too innocent or too upset to know it.” I tell her.

“It’s wrong,” She whispers.

This time I shake my head. “It’s not wrong to receive pleasure. I can give it to you without removing my clothes, without unfastening a single button."

“And my buttons?” She asks.

“I would like to unfasten them, but if you're feeling shy the nightdress can remain." I tell her.

She looks at me. “Why do you want to do this?”

“Because you’ve been treated poorly by me … and others. I want to apologize and words will not suffice." I tell her.

“You are the only man I have been with through the night. I can't imagine what you might have in mind that does not involve passion." She mumbles.

I grin. “Oh, there will be passion. There will be passion aplenty. You will have the power to stop me at any moment.”

“How?” She asks.

“Simply say ‘no more’.” I tell her.

She watches me for the longest, her breathing uneven. I can’t deny that my invitation is prompted by a hope that seeing her in the throes of passion will help me to find one of my lost memories. And if it does not, well, there will still be pleasure in it for me. I enjoy giving a woman pleasure as much as I appreciate receiving it.

“Trust me, Callie, and I shall give you a sleep-filled night such as you've never known." I whisper to her.