As the day wore on, they stopped a few times to water and rest Poppy, eating the rations Mrs. Hettrick had packed for them, and talking about anything that avoided both her past as well as what awaited them in the future. They even waded in one of the streams, splashing one another.
When the sun began to set, however, rather than begin watching for an inn, he pulled the horse off the road into another thick cluster of trees.
“Is someone coming again?” She twisted on the bench to search the road, and then back around, confused, when no one approached. “Shouldn’t we put off stopping until we arrive at an inn for the night?”
“We aren’t staying at an inn.” Rock kept right on driving through the trees until finally reaching a small clearing.
“What do you mean, we aren’t staying at an inn?” Tabetha glanced around again, thinking there must be a small house or cabin.
“They’ll be watching for us.”
His words gave her pause. Because, of course, he was right. But…
“Where will we sleep?”
He jumped off and proceeded to untether Poppy. “We’ll have the grass for our bed and the stars for our canopy.”
A silent battle commenced in her mind. He was right, but she couldn’t sleep outside in the elements. She was a lady.
But she was a different person today. She didn’t care if her husband was a prince or a pauper. The woman whose husband had told her he loved her—the one who had spread her legs for him earlier that afternoon—acknowledged that sleeping outdoors could possibly turn out to be a most romantic adventure.
Only… “What if it rains?”
“It won’t,” he answered and then swaggered back to the gig and grasped her by the waist before swinging her onto the ground.
“I am glad of your confidence.” She couldn’t help but laugh when he suddenly sent her twirling and then drew her back into his arms. “You’re mad.”
“For you.”
She wasn’t quite sure why he suddenly seemed so… cheerful and unconcerned, but she was more than happy to go along.
When he held her, swaying gently under the twilight sky, she imprinted all of the sensations she was feeling onto her heart.
She was acutely aware that she was happy and in love. And it rather made her feel like she was witnessing a once in a lifetime event, like an eclipse of the sun, or an erupting volcano.
And when it was over, she would be left with only a memory.
This wasn’t something she’d ever expected to find. They rocked together, lost in a world where they were the only two people who mattered.
“I hope our children’s eyes are blue, like yours,” she said.
“Let’s hope they have your nose, though.” He leaned forward and inhaled, his breath, warm as it ghosted over her neck.
She tilted her head to the side, inviting his exploring kisses. “Did you dance with me? At my come out?”
“You granted me a single set.”
“Only one?”
He pulled back and pressed a closed fist to his chest. “My little heartbreaker.”
“Never!” she vowed. She didn’t remember anything about their wedding, so she promised him, “I’ll never break your heart.”
His throat worked, as though overcome with emotion.
“I wish I could remember—the day I met you, our first kiss, the moment you proposed.”
“You will.”
