“Aye, but so what?”
Elsie frowned, considering the question for a moment.
“My dress would be wet,” she said. “It would get muddy and so would my shoes. And my hair… it would all be a mess.”
Halvard looked straight at her, his mouth ticking up into a smirk.
“So what?”
Elsie paused, once again not knowing how to answer. She pondered the question, going through all the possible scenarios in her mind, but in the end, she couldn’t find anything that terrible that would happen if she got wet.
All her life, she had been forbidden from going out in the rain. All her life, she had avoided mud and anything that could soil her clothes and her shoes, anything that could make her hair anything less than perfect. All her life, she had been told to stay away from things that could bring her any joy.
She didn’t respond to Halvard. Instead, she pushed herself up to her feet and ran out of the cover of the tree, letting the rain soak her. At first, she was chilled to the bone, a gasp escaping her, but then, the more she stood there, the more laughter bubbled out of her, even as she was drenched and cold.
There was something enchanting about the rain. There was something freeing about being out there and knowing that no one would yell at her, no one would force her back inside, no one would make her do anything she didn’t want to do.
Behind her, she heard Halvard’s laughter, getting louder and louder as he approached. When she turned, he was right there behind her, his hands reaching out to steady her, settling at her waist. For a moment, neither of them moved; neither of them spoke. They only stared at each other, nothing but the falling rain between them, like a veil.
“I’m very proud o’ ye,” he said. “I never thought ye’d run out intae the rain like this.”
“Neither did I,” Elsie admitted. “But I doubt it’s something to be proud of.”
“It is,” Halvard said. “It is when ye’ve spent yer whole life avoidin’ it.”
Elsie had the mad desire to lean in closer and kiss him. She wanted nothing more than to feel the heat of his lips on hers, just as she was feeling the warmth of his hands, even through her clothes. She wanted nothing more than to seal that moment, to ask for more, to have what Halvard refused to give her last time.
But she couldn’t do such a thing. If he refused her again, she didn’t think she could bear it.
Instead, she placed her hands on his chest, stayed there for a moment, and then pulled back. The cold was getting to her, seeping into her and demanding action, so she headed back to the horses, eager to get someplace warm.
“We should head back,” she said. “We’re already wet, so I suppose riding in the rain won’t make much of a difference.”
For a brief moment, Halvard stood there as if confused by the turn of events; as if he was expecting something else. But Elsie didn’t allow herself to hope. She didn’t allow herself to say anything that would make it sound like she did, and in the end, Halvard nodded and joined her, untying the horses.
“Aye, let us go,” he said. “I did think o’ one bad thing the rain can dae tae ye.”
“What’s that?” Elsie asked.
“Well, we could catch our deaths out here.”
He spoke the words so casually, so much without a second thought that Elsie’s eyes widened, reality finally settling in.
“You’re right!” she said, a shiver going through her as if summoned. “That’s why they always told me not to do it!”
But Halvard only laughed and jumped on his horse, steering it out into the cold and the rain.
“Come, lass,” he said, “before ye faint out o’ worry.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Halvard let out a sigh as his head hit the back of the copper tub. Steam rose around him in waves, the water a hot balm on his muscles and his aching joints. He let out a long sigh, the strain of the day and an hour spent in the rain melting out of him slowly, until his body finally relaxed in the hot water.
All in all, the day had been a success, if he didn’t count Elsie’s maddening presence near him.
As much as he constantly craved her company, as much as he sought her out, being near her was torture. Every moment spent by her side reminded him how much he wanted her and how much he couldn’t have her. Every look she gave him only served to stoke the flames of his desire, but it was more than that.
He didn’t only want her body. He wanted all of her; her smile, her gaze, her conversation. He wanted as much of her as he could have, and though it was selfish, he wasn’t always successful at stopping himself.
