His thumbs brushed against her cheekbones with such tenderness that Marina nearly broke. For a fleeting moment, she considered telling him the truth about her fears. But voicing it would make it real. And she refused to let the fear win. She would focus on playing the part of hostess and it would all pass.
“Perfectly well,” she assured him, turning her face to press a kiss against his palm. “Just a bit fatigued from all this planning.”
His frown deepened. “Perhaps we should postpone the house party. It’s a considerable undertaking.”
No. That was the opposite of what she needed. But she couldn’t explain it to him.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said, rising to stand before him. “I’m merely tired from sitting too long. Besides, I’ve already set my heart on this.”
Evan’s eyes searched hers. And she wasn’t certain what it was he was thinking, but his protective urges were on full display. “Very well,” he conceded, his fingers trailing down her arm to capture her hand. “But promise me you’ll rest if you need it. The last thing I want is for you to exhaust yourself.”
“I promise.” And she meant it—she wouldn’t push herself to exhaustion. Just enough to quiet her thoughts.
“I think,” she continued, distracting herself from her thoughts, “that what I require most at this moment is fresh air. Would you care to walk with me in the garden?”
Evan’s gaze softened as he extended his arm. “Nothing could keep me from doing so.”
For the next hour, they moved through the garden, speaking of plans for the house party and what events Marina would host for the fortnight they had guests. The pleasant stroll with her husband calmed her nerves, and her stomach settled.
As they ascended the terrace steps, Baxter, their butler, approached. “My lord, your estate manager is waiting in your study. He says it’s urgent.”
Evan turned to her, lifting her hand to his lips. “I’ll see you at supper, love.”
She smiled back at him, thoroughly enjoying the way his breeches clung to his muscular thighs. That man was her undoing.
Turning back to the garden, she rested her arms on the railing, inhaling the crisp air. Birds flitted between the branches of a nearby tree, the picture of serenity. Then—movement. Something darted behind a tree. Or at least she thought it did.
Marina stiffened.
Her gaze locked onto a distant oak tree, its trunk thick and gnarled. Nothing. And yet, her skin prickled with awareness. She didn’t see anyone, but she couldn’t shake the fear that someone was there.
She had almost convinced herself that her mind was playing tricks on her. Then she saw it—a hand.
Her stomach lurched violently. She barely had time to turn before she cast up her accounts into the bushes below. Nausea wasn’t a symptom she usually had when the memories of the past plagued her, but this wasn’t just a memory if someone watched her from the woods.
Shaking, she wiped her lips with her handkerchief and forced herself to look again. The hand was gone.
But it had been there. She would stake her life on it.
Marina’s breath came shallow and fast. She forced herself to stand still, to watch, to wait. Nothing. No movement. No shadow shifting from behind the tree.
Her mind was playing tricks on her. It had to be. Right? At least that was what she preferred to believe. It was the only truth she was willing to accept.
If she told Evan, he would insist on canceling the party. He’d watch her like a hawk, and he’d have her guarded every minute of the day. No, she couldn’t allow that.
This would be something to laugh about in a few days. It would prove to be nothing but her imagination. And then, maybe, she’d tell him then.
Chapter 4
Evan
Evanhadnoideawhat could be so urgent that Browning, his estate manager, needed to speak with him at this hour. If it wasn’t truly pressing, Browning would receive a firm reminder of proper business hours—so Evan could return to Marina.
Striding into his study, he found Browning standing rigid before the desk, twisting his hands together. Unease prickled along Evan’s spine. He’d never seen the man rattled.
“Browning,” Evan said, closing the door behind him.
“My lord.” Browning exhaled, the tension easing only slightly at Evan’s presence. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”
