He kissed her throat, remaining as she had asked instead of moving away. “Did you mean what you said? That you love me?”
She swallowed against that same old rush of fear, the worry he would prove false, that he was a charming rogue saying what she wanted to hear, that he would betray her again one day. She was stronger than that old pain. She had to be, if she wished for them to move forward. If she wanted their marriage to succeed.
“I meant it,” she said. “I love you.”
“I promise you won’t regret opening your heart to me, my love.” He kissed her cheek, his tone reverent.
She hoped he was right. God, how she did. Because she did not think her heart could sustain another blow.
* * *
How he hatedthat their honeymoon was drawing to a close. His sole consolation was that word had finally arrived that morning from Barlowe Park and Wycombe that Ridgely had been arrested, his blatant thievery from the estate over the years of his employ enough to keep him imprisoned. One problem solved, so many more remaining. But he would tackle those one day at a time.
The rain had finally subsided by the last day they would have together at Haines Court, and the sun chased enough of a chill that by afternoon, Zachary and Izzy were able to take a turn about the gardens. They had spent two full days in their respective apartments, making love, taking baths, eating sweets, and drinking wine.
It had been the best week of his life.
He hoped it heralded the weeks, months, and years of their life together. That their bond would only strengthen and deepen with time, and that the inroads he had made with her during their honeymoon would remain open. Returning to Barlowe Park and its endless need of improvements loomed like a pall. He could not shake the premonition that when they resumed their life there, the magic that had seemed to settle over them during their honeymoon would inevitably fade.
“You are pensive,” Izzy observed, her boots crunching on the gravel walk at his side as a stray bird winged overhead.
“I regret having only made this honeymoon for a sennight,” he replied lightly, rather than giving voice to the myriad of concerns flitting through him. “I could have happily remained here with you for the next decade, at least.”
“I suspect that has far more to do with Greymoor’s clever refurbishment of Haines Court than with me,” she said, her tone teasing.
This was new between them, their banter, their camaraderie. He loved how easy it had become, all the tension having drained away. No worries, no fears, no one to intervene and cause them troubles. For a charmed time, they had simply been able to focus on each other, their marriage, their strengthening relationship.
And, as the honeymoon had worn on, their lovemaking.
He was drunk on her. In love with her. So happy, it scared the devil out of him.
“I will not lie,” he allowed, covering the hand settled into the crook of his elbow with his. “The bathrooms, with those generous tubs imported from New York City, are a bloody dream. I am going to insist Greymoor help us with Barlowe Park. What he has done with this old tumbledown affair is almost unbelievable. Having said that, however, my true delight in this honeymoon is you,cariad, as you well know. I could be sleeping in a damned cave, and as long as you were with me, I would be a happy man.”
“A cave, you say?” She wrinkled her nose, contemplating his words. “What if there were bats in the cave?”
“I would bear them.”
“What if the cave were cold?”
“You could warm me.” He grinned. “I can think of several ways you might go about doing so.”
His teasing earned him a smile from her. “I am sure you can. And if you had to sleep on rocks?”
“As long as you were there with me, I would happily bed down in the dirt.” He brought her hand to his lips for a reverent kiss. “I can withstand anything with you at my side.”
Christ, when had he grown so bloody maudlin? When he had lost his heart to the beautiful woman at his side, that was when. And when he had made her his wife.
“You always know what to say, Zachary.” The levity had faded, her countenance growing serious.
“Ah, but you are forgetting about all the wrong things I have said along the way,” he reminded her with a self-deprecating grin. “There are some damned regrettable statements in the muddle. You may find this impossible to believe, but sometimes I can be an arse.”
“Never.” Her lips twitched. “Then we are evenly matched, for there are some things I have said in the past that I wish could be retracted as well.”
They had stopped in the midst of the extensive rock gardens Greymoor had commissioned, complete with false cliffs. Their surrounds were undeniably glorious, but nothing could compare to Izzy herself. She was dressed in her customary bold colors, this time a brilliant yellow-and-carmine-striped wool, tassels and lace and trimming adorning the impressivetournureand gathered skirts. Atop this bright confection, she had donned a chinchilla dolman. Her dark hair was artfully arranged beneath a jaunty cap bedecked with matching yellow-and-carmine dyed feathers and a cluster of artificial cherries. Her choice of fashion no longer unnerved him; rather, he now celebrated it as he did her. Her wild choices were part of what made her so special. She stood in stark relief to the neutral colors of the rocks and the greens of the ferns springing from between their clever placements.
“What do you say to forgetting our old regrets and moving toward the future, together?” he asked.
Not long ago, he would have believed such a suggestion would have been met with resolute denial. She had been clinging to her doubts and her anger, keeping him at a distance. But their time at Haines Court had changed a great deal. He was damned glad Greymoor had made the suggestion, when it had become apparent Zachary had no intention of avoiding marriage despite his friend’s suggestion he run as fast as he could in the opposite direction. He suspected this place would always hold a bit of magic for himself and Izzy.
