Andbuttock!
Had Leah known how being married—or evenalmostmarried—would have so expanded her conversations with others, she would have pursued the state more aggressively.
“Ye laugh, but that’s precisely the problem, Regina.” Mrs. Buchan leaned forward, voice dropping to a whisper. “I heard tell from a maid who worked in the castle there for a summer. Claimed she liked tae pass the footmen on the stairs. Said if ye went slow enough, ye could feeleverything.”
Leah’s blush finally broke free at that.
The image was a provocative one.
A narrow staircase, spiraling up into darkness.
Fox descending toward her, eyes hooded.
He would pause and wait for Leah to reach him, his nostrils flaring slightly as she ever-so-slowly pushed past him, chest-to-chest, every point of contact between them flaring to life . . .
And . . .everything?
What did that even mean, precisely?
Scratch that.
Leah had a good idea as to what it meant—she lived with animals on a farm, after all—but the thought merely made her blush harder.
Mrs. Buchan, of course, did not miss Leah’s fiery cheeks.
“Hah!” The older woman pointed a finger at Leah. “Ye be thinking about your wedding night already, Miss Penn-Leith?”
“Captain Carnegie is a fine one,” Mrs. Clark clucked, fanning herself. “Oh, tae be fifteen years younger myself and marrying such a man.”
Leah pressed a hand to her cheek, wondering how much deeper her blush could go.
“Aye,” Mrs. Buchan locked eyes with Leah. “Your mother has been gone these twenty-odd years, lass. Do ye be needing a wee bit of advice for your wedding night? What tae expect like?”
Oh!
As it turned out, Leah could, in fact, blush much,muchharder.
Worse, she found herself swallowing back tears.
How she wished there wouldbea wedding night! For Fox to want theirs to be a marriage in truth.
Why, oh why, hadn’t she opened her mouth and told him as much the day he proposed?
But . . .
Marriage was something she had craved for so many years and to have it suddenly presented to her on a gold platter . . . or, perhaps, it was more like a goodly pewter plate . . .
Regardless, it had been too much for her poor brain to process. To speak her own mind.
And now . . . the matter had passed. Despite Fox’s kind demeanor, Leah hadn’t the courage to broach the subject again. And no gently-bred lady would ever request such a thing from her husband regardless.
Besides, what if she did speak up, and Fox retracted his offer of marriage on the grounds that Leah was altering the contract of their betrothal?
She couldn’t bear to think upon it.
Some of him was better than none.
Some of a marriage was better than none at all. Was it not?
