When I turned toward the sound, he was already there, framed by the arch of climbing roses. Tall, broad-shouldered, and dressed in simple but well-tailored clothes. He carried himself with the kind of ease thatshoutedconfidence. The late light caught the sharp line of his jaw, the curve of his mouth.
Handsome didn't seem enough of a word. He was arresting. Alive. And in that instant, I forgot my travel-weariness and my tangled doubts about the man I was meant to marry.
"Miss Kruger." His voice was deep, warm, and almost intimate, though his expression revealed nothing beyond polite acknowledgement.
My breath caught. The way he said my name made it sound like I already belonged to him, as though he had been saying it for years, not moments. More than anything, the sound of my name on his lips had me suppressing a sudden urge tosubmit. I swallowed, my pulse skittering, and forced my gaze back to the pond, hoping it might steady me.
"Good afternoon," I managed, though my voice was softer than I'd intended and I was most certainly blushing.
He didn't move closer, nor did he offer introductions. Not that we needed any. I was in his house, and had traveled far to be here, to meet him, marry him.
I smoothed my skirt as he crossed the grass toward me, his steps unhurried, his gaze steady.
"I trust your journey wasn't too wearisome, Miss Kruger?" he asked, voice low and even, as though the garden itself hushed to hear him.
I tilted my head, unsure whether to downplay or admit the truth. "It was long," I said, lips curving despite myself. "But I'm finally here, and that's all that matters in the end."
His mouth twitched, not quite a smile, but something close, and my heart soared at the sight. He had the face of a man who wasn't prone to too many smiles. "Here, and very much admired. It's truly remarkable how becoming you are after nearly four days full of travel, Miss Kruger."
Heat prickled along my cheeks. Compliments were not something I was accustomed to. "You flatter me, sir."
"It's nothing but honesty," he said, and before I could think of a reply, he lowered himself gracefully onto the stone edge of the pond beside me. The space between us narrowed until I could feel the warmth radiating from his shoulder.
I laughed softly, though it came out thinner than I'd intended. "You're bold, sitting so near when we've scarcely met."
His eyes glinted with something unspoken. "I don't care much for propriety, Miss Kruger. Best you know that about me from the start."
My heart stumbled. To steady myself I said the first thing that came to mind. "Well then, Captain, you?—"
He flinched, almost imperceptibly, but I caught it. The title hung awkwardly between us, like a ripple in still water. Before I could ask, his gaze caught mine, holding it fast.
My heart skipped, and I drew in a sharp breath. The silence between us stretched.
And then, without thought, he leaned closer. Our lips brushed, the gentlest of touches, so fleeting it might have been imagined. Yet it sent my pulse careening even more.
I jerked back, stunned, my fingers first touching my lips, and then, once I realized what I was doing, I grabbed hold of my skirts. The enormity of what we'd done struck me all at once. Rising quickly, almost stumbling, I forced words past the rush of blood in my ears.
"I... I should go."
Without waiting for my fiancé's answer, I gathered my skirts and fled, my heart hammering wildly as I hurried back through the twisting corridors of the house, not daring to look back.
Chapter Three
It took some time after I’d rushed back to my room before my heart slowed enough to breathe properly again.
And it wasn’t only my body’s reaction that left me reeling. Relief, yes, relief that I found my fiancé so handsome, so magnetic. But what had happened beside that pond was unlike anything I’d ever felt before.
It wasn’t as though Pa had kept me hidden away from men, though our farm was hours from town and I’d never been one to socialize much. With war looming, and then men gone to fight, I’d not even been courted by the time Pa left himself.
So to sit so close, to feel such a pull toward a man—any man—was a shock. But worse, or perhaps better, was the urge I’d felt to give in to him completely. That startled me most of all.
I had been raised in a good Christian home, taught the Scripture that women must be subservient to their husbands. Yet that was never true in our household. Ma and Pa were partners, equal in work and in voice, and I had always longed for a marriage like theirs.
And now here I was, undone in the very first hour, wanting to yield myself entirely to the man I was meant to marry.
A brisk knock sounded at the door before Chloe bustled in, smoothing her apron. "Miss Kruger, if you're ready, dinner is about to be served."
I rose, my palms still clammy from all my restless pacing and nerves. I followed the maid down the wide staircase, every creak of my boots against the polished wood echoing in my chest. Would Captain Smythe think less of me for my forward behavior? Or was he just as relieved as I was at the instant attraction between us?
