“I wouldn’t dream of it, possessive little menace.”
“Good,” I said, tracing his still-grinning lips with my fingertips. He kissed them gently before I pulled away and settled back against him. I moved my fingers to his chest, where his heart beat steadily. There, I traced a largeD.
Kit didn’t say anything, but I felt his lips quirk against my forehead.
“Good night, Davina.”
I nuzzled in closer. “Good night, Kit.”
It was a long time before his breathing evened out, and longer still before I finally closed my eyes.
Thirty-Four
NORTH ROAD—APRIL 14, 1817
KIT
The closer wegot to Scotland, the more pensive Davina became. Waking in her arms, likely for the last time, had been a beautiful torture.
But now, every mile brought us closer to goodbye, and the ache in my heart grew with every hoofbeat.
Our luncheon at the George and Boar had been unremarkable and we were hurtling toward the border as the sun began to set.
Davina was lovely as always in the evening light wearing a new-to-me purple frock that was at once plainer than what she usually wore and still more embellished than the other dresses she’d worn thus far on our journey.
A few miles ago, she grabbed my hand and dragged it to the lavender folds of her gown. She seemed content to trace my fingers with hers.
“We should probably drive through the night if Alfie and Rory can manage it,” I said, breaking the heavy silence.
“All right,” she agreed without argument. It was worrying. Davina was nothing if not full of opinions. And usually ones well worth considering.
“Unless you object?”
“No, we should get to Xander. We’ve already been delayed.”
“Davina… You’ve been quiet today. Is everything well? You’re not… regretting last night?”
She turned her sharp gaze on me. “No! You’re not? Are you?”
“No, no. I could never.”
“Well, good.”
“Are you nervous about managing things with Tom and your brother? Because I feel confident in our plan.”
“I do too,” she insisted. “I’m just… considering a few things.”
“Like what? Perhaps I can be of assistance.”
She turned on the bench to face me fully and tucked an ankle under her knee in an unladylike fashion. “I need to explain something to you. It doesn’t change anything, but I just… You deserve to know.”
“All right…”
“I’m not denying your proposal to be contrarian. It’s not marriage that I don’t want—or not just marriage. It’s love.”
“What?” I could hear my heart breaking along with my voice.
“You didn’t know my father, and you don’t know my mother well. My mother is… She’s magnificent in her own way. But people don’t— She’s too much for a lot of people. She feels everything too deeply, and while those feelings are usually self-centered in nature, her responses can be—well, too much. My mother loved my father, as much as she was capable of. My father was one of the people who didn’t understand her. He was cruel to her. He dismissed the things that were important to her. And he loathed her feelings, excessive and reasonable alike. The things he said to and about her in the weeks after Gabriel died… He’s burning in hell for them, I’m certain of it. Sometimes Ithink he hated her. But she still loved him. She mourns him to this day, in her own eccentric way.”
