“I remember it. I’ve always remembered it.” She pulled off her boots and threw them on the floor, where they landed with two loud thumps. Then she untied the garter above her right knee and rolled down her ugly stocking. Her only purpose was to expose her feet. If he couldn’t bear them, this must go no further. But then she saw the way he was watching her and looking at her leg.
It reminded her of Ethel’s words about Inching.Showing a bit of leg.
Like a cat in catmint.
She pushed the stocking off her foot, watching him. No repulsion. Instead he grabbed her foot in both hands, and rubbed it. “Not too cold.”
“Boots and worsted stockings,” she reminded him, then added, “I have large feet.”
“You said something about large feet before. It would be odd for someone so tall to have tiny ones.”
“Iamvery tall.”
“For a woman. You’re no taller than I am.”
“Which makes us a good match.” The way he was massaging her foot made her want to purr and roll.
“I’m not the only tall, eligible man around.”
She gently eased her foot out of his hands, and tucked it under herself. “You’re the one I want. I tried to like the others, but from the start, it was you I wanted.”
“From the start? I wasn’t on my aunt’s list.”
“How do you know that?”
“Your mother showed it to me, asking my advice.”
“And what did you advise?”
“The same as I advised you.”
Ariana remembered what Hermione had said about talking and could sense what she’d meant. Desire still hummed, but they were both calmer now and in some way more open, there in a small bedroom lit only by the fire and one candle.
On the bed.
She crawled up to sit on the pillows, resting back against the headboard, and patted the space beside her in invitation.
“I think I’ll keep my distance,” he said.
“As you will. Tell me about the monastery. All about taking Seraphina to Italy.”
He leaned back against one of the bottom bedposts, frowning in thought. “We sailed for Naples. Some friends came with me. We sighted some Barbary pirates once, but they didn’t bother us. We were on a well-armed navy ship. My friends preferred to stay in Naples, so I went on alone, with the coffin. I’d had the notion that her family would welcome her, but they were all distant relatives who’d long ago lost touch with her father, though I could see a family resemblance.”
“What of her parents, here in England?”
“I didn’t even consult them. So arrogant. They, too, want her to be returned here. They want her buried in London, where they live. But she wouldn’t want that.”
Apparently without thought, he’d taken her other foot and was massaging it... no, fondling it. “Why not?” she asked on a breath.
“She loved Delacorte. Especially the wilderness area. I think she’d like it there. You don’t mind me talking about her?”
“Not at all.”
“I’d assumed any woman would resent me talking about my first wife. A wife I loved very much.”
Ariana noted “first” with satisfaction. “Some might. But not if you have room in your heart for another.”
He closed his eyes, dark lashes lying on his cheekbones. “Do I? What of the one-and-only? If we’d fallen out of harmony, it might be different.”
