He glanced up to the sky. ‘It looks like rain.’
‘All the more reason for it. I love the crackle of thunder and electricity in the air.’
‘You do? Yet another thing I do not remember about you.’ He sighed.
‘It is entertaining for you to learn me all over again, is it not?’ she teased with a winsome smile.
‘And what of me? Is it as enjoyable for you?’ He worried over her answer.
She turned her face towards him. ‘More than you will ever know.’ Her gaze flickered with love and longing and something else he couldn’t name. His body flared, matching her desire.
He cleared his throat, bent and nuzzled her neck. ‘If you do not cease looking at me so, I will be forced to show you how much I desire you and wish to relearn every part of you.’
She nipped his ear with her teeth. ‘I do hope you will.’
He nearly lost his footing. His body shuddered. ‘Let us walk before I forget what it means to be a gentleman and that we are in public out of doors,’ he replied, offering his arm to her. She threaded hers within his and chuckled.
‘I do hope to see that as well,’ she whispered so softly he almost believed he imagined it. But when he met her gaze, he saw her enlarged pupils and the want within them.
Lord above. If he wasn’t careful, he would honour her request right then and there on the front lawn. He prayed for rain to cool the base need that banked and burned within him.
They made their way around the front lawn to the side of the Manor and a rumble of thunder far in the distance reminded him of the dangerous internal storm he was on the brink of as well. He did not wish to rush the delicate balance between them, and navigating his feelings for her was becoming more and more precarious.
They climbed up a series of stones marking the beginning of the garden that connected the front lawn to the lake in the back of the estate. She jostled into him as his gait was longer than her own, her bosom sliding along his forearm, and he clenched his jaw. He needed to distract himself with something—anything—other than the current images of her naked form pressed against him he was conjuring up in his mind.
‘Why do you love thunderstorms?’ he asked. The weather seemed a benign neutral topic.
‘Because of my mother,’ she replied.
His interest was piqued. She had told him little of her family. He knew more about her dear friends than her parents, even though he knew she did not know her father. ‘Tell me more,’ he encouraged, pleased to be distracted as they made their way across the grass. The wind whipped up, ruffling her chestnut hair and tugging strands free from the pins holding it in a knot at the base of her neck. The weather suited her as did everything else. He suppressed a smile.
‘When she knew a storm was coming, she would light all the candles we had, build a fort of blankets, snuggle within it and read to me.’ Her features softened and her voice was whimsical and light.
‘What kinds of stories did she read to you?’
She smiled at him. ‘Nothing you would like, I’m afraid. They were stories of love, romance and adventure.’
He cocked his head. ‘And why would I not enjoy such tales?’
‘Because you are a duke. You are serious and intellectual, not fanciful.’
‘I guess I’ll have to take your word for that as I do not know what I used to read.’ A fat raindrop fell on his sleeve and another on his head. He ignored them and they continued.
‘What was your favourite story?’
‘All of them.’ She smirked. ‘Falling asleep to the sound of her voice, the rainstorm and stories of fancy was the best of memories. It is what I miss most about her.’
‘The stories?’
‘The sound of her voice, her smell and the warmth of her holding me.’
He pulled her close and swallowed back the emotion tightening his throat. ‘When did you lose her?’
‘I was only a few years older than when Millie lost her mother. Since I never knew my father and had no other family that I knew of, I ended up at the orphanage. But I was lucky as I met Ophelia and Trudy. Without them, I shudder to think what would have become of me. They became my family.’
‘Until now,’ he murmured, pulling her to a stop, ‘my beloved. Now, we are also your family, Millie and I.’
He bent down on one knee. ‘Since I do not remember proposing to you, I wanted…’ he paused and pulled a small necklace with a simple ruby heart shaped pendant from his trouser pocket ‘…to ask for your hand again. You are all I could ever wish for in a wife and mother. Will you marry me, Penelope?’
