They washed and dressed for the day, and then ventured ontoCampania’sopen deck. The air was brisk, but the sun warmed their faces. As they walked toward the forecastle of the ship, a spray of seawater misted the rails and deck boards, and the painted iron hull.
Louisa looped her arm through his, tucking against his side. Her skirt hems flapped in the wind, and she wrangled them with her free hand, laughing. It was indecorous, but he didn’t care. He shifted closer to the structure of the ship to put himself between his wife and the gale.
Blushing sweetly, she smoothed her skirts into place. “Thank you.”
He liked the way she smiled at him as if she were glad to be with him—as if he were the only man she ever wished to be with.
Giles had never had anyone all to himself before. His parents had been too obsessed with their own aims to spare a moment for their child. His young playfellow, his best friend and first lover, had married someone else. He had wandered through society, unknowingly holding his arms out, desperate for close companionship, yet he’d been turned away as a waste of time, a bad investment.
Louisa Thurston Reid had taken that risk, and for once, he was grateful for a gamble. Giles grinned, for only an American could make such a speculation pay off!
His pretty wife beamed up at him, as he’d changed from a grim aristocrat to a good-natured companion. He didn’t want to be stiff and formal with her.
“What’s got you grinning,Lord Granbruh?”
She liked to tease him for his clipped, upper-class pronunciation of their title.
“Really, Lady Granborough, you must call me Giles,” he said, smiling, “as you did last night.”
Her cheeks pinkened at the memory of their shared night of passion, for she had cried his name as she’d climaxed. He would never forget the sound so long as he lived.
Giles feared he was beginning to have tender feelings toward her. He wanted to love her and felt certain that he would someday, but he’d felt this way before and had been let down in love.
He had dreamed of a wife, a home, a family, yet he hadn’t been enough. He might’ve been Lady Venia Herbert’s lover, but he had never been her first choice. Without the money to support himself and her ambitions, her devotion had turned elsewhere. His love had been reduced to something tawdry, some thrilling outlet from the dull marriage she’d contracted for herself.
He’d been lovesick for years, yet it took Louisa’s vibrant presence to illuminate the darkest aspects of his life, those shadowy spaces where self-loathing lurked.
Giles didn’t want to be that man anymore.
Step by step, arm-in-arm with Louisa, he was learning to shed the yoke of the life he’d been born to, yet never seemed fulfilled by.
Perhaps he’d never return to London.
He’d go to Granborough with Louisa and make a proper home, live a blameless life with her there, among the gardens and green fields. They could ride bicycles—she would teach him, surely—and raise their children, and endeavor to do good works in the countryside.
That was his secret, selfish dream.
As Giles and Louisa made a circuit of the promenade deck, they encountered a familiar face near a clutch of lounge chairs. Mrs. Waldo rocked baby Emily in her arms, enjoying the sunshine and sea breeze.
Louisa went to her, greeting the woman with genuine warmth. The duo had shared luncheon recently and developed something of a friendship. Her Ladyship’s generosity had touched Mrs. Waldo, who now enjoyed a larger stateroom under the Granborough’s account.
He tried to imagine his mother doing something so selfless, or—Heaven forbid—Lady Venia Herbert condescending to converse with a needy mother and her screaming child.
All the little quirks that had first annoyed him about his egalitarian American wife were growing to become his favorite things about her.
Giles hovered close to bask in her sweetness. He gladly took baby Emily, cuddling the awestruck infant against his chest. He adored children and had envied his friends and their growing families. Warmth bloomed in his heart, tenderness prickled his throat. He longed for the day when he would hold a little one of his own, with Louisa’s flawless profile and his golden hair. With her dauntless spirit, and his…what, exactly?
What legacy hadheto pass down to his progeny?
A great capacity for change, he hoped, as Giles was still learning about himself, making mistakes, and endeavoring to become the man he wished to be.
How strange that this day of introspection should come so swiftly in the wake of their first true coupling when he had been open, bare, and honest with his wife.
Giles shifted Emily in his arms to better focus on Louisa. She stood among the deck chairs, looking windblown and sun-warmed, yet perfectly at ease. She might have been enjoying luncheon on a pleasure cruiser in Newport Harbor, or joining the Prince of Wales’ yacht at Cowes for the Regatta. There was nothing she couldn’t do, nowhere she did not belong, and she washis wife.
He placed his free hand on the small of her back, caressing the soft wool of her coat.
Louisa smiled at him, and edged ever so slightly toward him, to welcome his touch.
