The kiss lingered, long and mind-altering, soft and sweet and so full of pleasure she forgot where they were. Why. For how long.
And when he released her, pressing soft kisses across hercheek to her ear, and whispered, “You are perfect,” she believed him. And when he added, “I’ll never forget you, Hetty, because I’m never going to let you go,” she believed that, too.
After the stolen time in the pasture, Hetty and Edward’s walks became longer, farther afield. They strayed farther away from the vicarage, to the folly on the far ridge bordering the lands of Salterton Abbey, where no one would see them. Where no one would interrupt them if their kisses became more frequent, more ardent, more exciting, more consuming,more.
Where no one would find them if the kisses became something else, entirely.
Their last week together was remarkable, full of secrets and longing and the words Hetty had been too afraid to speak, now tumbling out of both of them. Honest and forthright in the way only first love could be—an adventure all of its own.
But love could not keep life at bay, and on Edward’s final afternoon in Highbury, as they lay wrapped in each other’s arms at the top of the folly, the springtime sun teasing them with warmth every time it emerged from the clouds, Hetty prayed for time to stop as she pressed her ear to Edward’s chest, and he held her more tightly than he’d ever done before, and she listened to his heartbeat, strong and true andhers. Always hers.
“I’m coming back,” he whispered, the sound seeming to come from deep in his chest. “For you.”
“What if you didn’t go? I don’t need a fortune, Edward. I need you.”
He pressed his brow to hers. “I need you, as well, my love. But I’m nothing close to the husband you deserve.”
“We’ll manage—” He stopped her words with a kiss, releasing her only when she melted into him.
“We won’t have to manage. I’ll be back by Michaelmas. We’ll feed each other the last of the blackberries.”
“Six months,” she said, hating the words. The torture in them. “Half a year.”
“Will you wait for me?”
It was a mad question. “Of course I’ll wait for you.” She’d wait a year. Ten. Longer, if she had to. Forever.
“Six months, and I’ll have my own ship, and I’ll ask your father proper, and we’ll post banns, and we’ll marry—and you’ll wear blue.”
She lifted her head. “I will?”
He nodded, the decision made. “You look beautiful in blue.”
“I do?”
He kissed her nose. “You do. But I’m telling you your future.”
“I didn’t know you had such a gift.” She grinned and let him.
“After we marry—it’ll be a house for us. Here in Highbury, if you like, and a passel of babies if you like the sound of it.”
She liked it very much, indeed. Six months. She could do that. “And everyone will call me Mrs. Harris.”
He grinned. “Say it again.”
“Mrs. Harris,” she whispered. “Mrs. Edward Harris.”
“Yes. They’ll call you that,” he said. “And when we’re together, I shall call you my Hetty.”
It was her turn to kiss. His to melt.
“I want it now,” she said. “I don’t want you to go.”
“I’ll make it up to you,” he said. “Promise you’ll let me. Promise you’ll wait for me.”
“Yes,” she whispered, happier than she’d ever been, even as her heart was broken open with longing. Half a year wasn’t so long. And then, they’d have forever. “Of course.”
Another kiss, and another, and a dozen more throughout the afternoon, as the sun sank toward the horizon. Every one a promise.Six months, and I’ll be back. You’ll have everything you ever dreamed.
