“The water was high and dirty. And it did plenty of damage to the lower floor of some of the houses,” he rumbled, a deep hypnotic timbre against her cheek. “Only the houses nearest to the river truly suffered from the flooding, but it was enough.”
From what she could remember, the river ran near central through the village; the houses had likely first been built around the river. A purposeful design that had now acted against them.
“Tomorrow, I will help too,” she whispered, closing her eyes and resting her chin against his shoulder. “There’s so much that we can do.”
“I know. We will.”
“They will change their minds about you now for certain.” Sleep came for her, fatigued by the events of the day, but she wasn’t ready to slip under its spell just yet. “They thought you a tyrant, but now they will understand how kind of a man my husband truly is.”
His arms tightened around her a touch. “I’m not kind, Aurelia.”
“You have been to me.”
“No… no, I haven’t.” His tone was dry now. “When you first arrived, we both know I was not particularly nice to you at all.”
“You never wanted a wife.” The words barely made it out before a yawn overwhelmed her, turning the statement soft and shapeless. Her eyes were already closing. “But… have you changed your mind…?”
Darkness swallowed her whole before he could answer.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
The next few days were occupied almost solely with repairing the village. Aurelia accompanied Sebastian wherever he went, a constant companion that he found almost—oddly—welcome. She was a hard worker, never complaining even when she stood for hours helping serve soup and broth to the villagers. Whenever Sebastian glanced back to see how she was being received, he always saw her in conversation. Beaming, animated, laughing.
To think he had married a woman who would match him in this.
It was almost enough to contemplate keeping her around. Butthathad never been part of the plan—and worse, if he kept her around, he might start having stronger feelings for her than the affection and desire he currently experienced.
He could not afford to love another person. Once had almost been enough to break him—and it had killed her.
Even if a large part of him wanted to have her stay.
They paused for lunch on the clifftop overlooking the sea. Below them, in the cradle of the cliffs, the villagers worked to rebuild. But here, the wind in his hair, Sebastian felt free.
Aurelia came to sit beside him, her nose red-tipped from the chill and her eyes bright from exertion. “It’s beautiful out here,” she breathed, coming to sit beside him. “I never truly appreciated quite how beautiful until now, I think.”
“It gets still more beautiful in summer.”
“And in winter?”
How many winters would she see here? Once she got with child, he would find a new place for her, and visit her only when the babe was due. There was no guarantee she would see even a single winter.
“Not beautiful,” he forced himself to say. “More… stark.”
“But you like it here.” It wasn’t a question.
He nodded, peeling a boiled egg and dipping it into his mouth. Today, he had asked for simple fare that he could easily pack and share with the villagers, and although Cook had grumbled, he had come through.
“It’s peaceful,” he murmured, struggling to find the precise words to explain how he felt about the area. “I grew up here—this is my home, and I believe if you must stay somewhere, you ought to find things about it to love.”
“Is that why you visit the lighthouse?”
“In part.” The other part being that was where Kate had gone.
Of course, he didn’t go there so he could think of her, or some kind of guilty pilgrimage as he had alluded to earlier. But hehaddone so for such a long time, looking out over the sea in case she miraculously returned alive some day—that it felt natural now. It was such a symbol of strength. Bitterly ironic, really, that it was where Kate had quite possibly lost her life.
Aurelia wrapped her arms around her legs, hair whipping about her face. She looked incredibly beautiful here in a bucolic sort of way, her dress simple and her hair in a braid, pulled back from her face. If he hadn’t married her and made her a duchess, she could have fit in here at the village. An ordinary man’s unordinary wife.
“We should come here more often,” she suggested softly.
