Instead, he pulled back slightly, though his hand remained at her cheek. “We should retire,” he said, his voice rougher than before. “It’s getting late.”
Disappointment flickered through her, but she nodded. “Of course.”
He stood, offering her his hand to help her rise from the bench. When she placed her fingers in his, he didn’t immediately release her, instead bringing her hand to his lips for a kiss that was both gentlemanly and somehow deeply intimate.
“Goodnight, Courtney,” he said, his eyes holding promises his words didn’t express. “Sleep well.”
“Goodnight, Lucien,” she replied, reluctantly withdrawing her hand from his. As she made her way upstairs to her bedchamber, she could still feel the imprint of his lips on her skin, a phantom sensation that followed her into her dreams. Was she ready to push for more? Not when his heart was still full of his love for Ava. How did she compete for his affections with aghost? She hoped she wouldn’t have to. Could a man love twice in his lifetime or in Lucien’s case, three times? He had loved Courtney once; of that she was certain.
They said time heals and she had to admit that after five years, she had finally begun to look at the idea of marrying again, but she hadn’t expected to love again. Lucien’s ghost still filled her heart, so she could understand his situation. Could Lucien love again? Or would he only offer affection? She rolled over in her cold bed and knew it would not be enough. Not when he once again was beginning to fill her heart.
*
Lucien watched Courtneywalk up the stairs, her cute bottom swaying provocatively, and the desire to follow and pull her into his room, into his bed almost overwhelmed him. But how could he, when he was still too scared to tell her the truth? What would she think of him? Of Ava-Marie?
After this time with Courtney, he knew in his heart she would never use the knowledge of Ava-Marie’s birth to hurt him or his daughter. But now he didn’t know how to tell her without revealing his initial distrust.
Or was it simply that he feared what she would think of him? A man duped by a woman. A man who fell in love with that woman and still loved her after all she’d done. Was there ever a bigger fool?
He’d tell her when they got back to London. He didn’t want to ruin the memory of their time here.
As he lay in bed—alone—thoughts of kissing every inch of Courtney’s delectable creamy skin filled his mind. It wasn’t lost on him that, for once, it wasn’t thoughts of Ava who kept him awake to near dawn.
Chapter Fifteen
The days thatfollowed fell into a pleasant rhythm. Mornings were often spent exploring the estate, with Lucien proudly showing Courtney the improvements he’d begun implementing, based on Julian’s suggestions. Afternoons might bring a visit to the village, where Lucien was gradually reacquainting himself with the local inhabitants, or quiet hours spent with Ava-Marie, who delighted in Courtney’s stories and patient instruction at the pianoforte.
Each day, Courtney observed subtle changes in Lucien. His smiles came more readily, his laughter more frequent. He spoke more openly about his time in Ireland, sharing amusing anecdotes about village life and his struggles to master farming techniques. When he talked about Ava, it was with a wistful honesty that acknowledged both the love they had shared and the agony of her death.
A break in the persistent Dorset rain prompted Julian to suggest a fishing expedition. The men departed with tackle and high spirits, leaving the ladies to their own devices.
Serena, pleading a headache, retired to her room, while Caitria took Ava-Marie to the kitchen gardens to harvest vegetables for dinner. Finding herself unexpectedly alone, Courtney decided to explore the estate further, drawn to the bluebell woods that lay beyond the formal gardens.
The woods were peaceful, with dappled sunlight filtering through the canopy to create patterns on the forest floor. Though the bluebells had long since faded, the undergrowth was lush with ferns and late summer wildflowers. Courtney followed a narrow path, enjoying the solitude and the opportunity to gather her thoughts.
Her mind kept returning to Lucien—to the growing ease between them, the moments of connection that suggested they might indeed forge something meaningful from the ruins of their past. Yet she sensed he was still holding back, still guarding some part of himself. Guarding his battered heart. She understood loss better than anyone—she’d lost Lucien five years ago. Hearts were delicate organs. It took a lot for them to recover.
So deep was she in contemplation that she nearly missed the small clearing ahead. It was only when she emerged from the trees that she realized where her feet had carried her—to a secluded glade with a stone bench overlooking a small, natural pond. The spot was achingly familiar, a private retreat where she and Lucien had often escaped during her visits to Danvers Hall.
Taking a seat on the bench, Courtney closed her eyes, memories washing over her. Here, away from the house and its ever-watchful servants, they had shared confidences, dreams, and increasingly passionate embraces. It was in this very spot that Lucien had first told her he loved her, nervous despite his usual confidence, his green eyes earnest as he confessed feelings that had been growing for months.
“I thought I might find you here.”
Lucien’s voice made her start. Opening her eyes, she found him standing at the edge of the clearing, fishing rod in hand, his expression unreadable.
“Julian and I finished early,” he explained, approaching the bench. “He’s headed back to the house, but I saw you walking into the woods and followed.”
“How did you know about this place?” she asked, making room for him beside her.
He sat, setting his fishing rod aside. “I discovered it a few days after arriving here,” he said. “It felt…peaceful. I’ve come here several times to think.”
“We used to come here together,” Courtney told him. “It was our special place, away from everyone else.”
He nodded, unsurprised. “I suspected as much. There’s a carving on the back of this bench—our initials within a heart. Very romantic.”
She smiled, remembering. “You did that after I accepted your proposal. I scolded you for damaging your family’s property.”
“Did I apologize?” he asked, a hint of mischief in his eyes.
