Startled, Evie jerked her head up and saw that Gigi and Mr. Godwin had entered. James’s sister’s face was bright with relief while her husband looked like he was trying to conceal a smile.
“It appears that all is well, duchess,” Mr. Godwin said.
“Thank heavens.” Gigi hurried toward the bed. “James, dearest, you had us ever so worried. How are you feeling? Are you recovered?”
Blushing furiously, Evie realized she was sprawled wantonly over her bedridden husband. When she tried to roll off him, he prevented her escape by placing a possessive arm around her waist.
“I am perfectly well,” he told his sister. “I’ve never been better, in fact.”
The steely ridge beneath Evie’s thigh attested to this, and her cheeks grew hotter. Twisting her head, she saw that Gigi was beaming, and Mr. Godwin was no longer bothering to hide his grin.
“That is splendid news indeed,” Gigi said. “We shall have to let Ethan, Xenia, and Owen know. They’ve been beside themselves with worry?—”
“Glad to have you back, Manderly.” Slinging an arm around his wife’s shoulders, Mr. Godwin tugged her closer and murmured, “Why don’t we share the news with the others and leave these two to their reunion?”
With strength born of desperation, Evie pulled free and stumbled to her feet.
“Please stay and visit, and I shall let the others know,” she said with as much dignity as she could muster. “Mind you don’t tire James. And do not, under any circumstances, allow him out of bed.”
She headed out, but at the door, she couldn’t resist looking back. Gigi and Mr. Godwin were flanking James’s bed, catching him up on the plans for the ball. James, however, was staring directly at Evie. He gave her a wink that made her insides flutter, and she left, floating on a cloud.
Chapter Fifteen
As the physician had predicted, James made a full and rapid recovery. To celebrate, his brothers and brother-in-law took him to supper at the Briarbush Inn. Located on the corner of High Street, the popular establishment had a comfortably shabby ambiance. The ceiling sagged between heavy oak beams stained by soot. Plaster crumbled from walls mellowed by time. The air was redolent of baking bread, roasting meat, and beeswax polish.
This evening, the public room was as packed as a market at noon. Competition for the dining tables was fierce, especially for those close to the giant stone hearth that held a kettle of simmering mulled cider. Owen’s attempts to secure a table had been foiled twice: first by a rector who’d sped by on winged feet, then by a spinster who’d simply knocked him aside with her cane.
Rubbing his side, Owen muttered, “Care to remind me why we are dining here?”
“It’s Thursday,” Ethan said.
Owen drew his brows together. “What is special about Thursday?”
“It’s Pie and Fool night. And no one makes a pie or a fool like Mrs. Thornton.”
“What kind of pie? And what flavor is the fool?”
Despite his gangly build, Owen ate like a horse…which came as a relief to James and the family. Following his return from Afghanistan, Owen had gone through years with little or no appetite. That, combined with too much drinking and not enough sleep, had turned him into a walking skeleton. Since his arrival in Chuddums last fall, he had filled out. He would always be lanky, but his enjoyment of the hearty country fare and working outdoors had toughened his physique. His brown hair was overdue for a trim, but he looked rested…which owed less to the bucolic setting and more to burying the hatchet with Ethan.
Watching his brothers banter, James felt a weight lift from his shoulders. As the eldest, he had a duty to look after his siblings. Witnessing their rift and being powerless to fix it had been excruciating. He’d feared that their relationship might never be mended, but then a miracle happened. Ethan had purchased Bottoms House, and in this downtrodden village in the middle of nowhere, he’d found Xenia. Or at least, he hadn’t pushed her aside when James had suggested that he hire her as a housekeeper.
Xenia had restored more than Ethan’s manor. Her love had healed Ethan and allowed him to forgive Owen. Even if Owen hadn’t forgiven himself for injuring Ethan, the two had reconciled. A few months later, Gigi found her soulmate as well. Initially, James had had doubts about Conrad Godwin, but he now saw the man’s devotion to Gigi—and to rebuilding Chuddums.
Maybe this place does possess some sort of magic. Maybe my siblings and I were destined to come here for a reason. Maybe there is hope, not just for them, but for me as well.
Thinking of the conversation with Evie, James felt a surge of hope. It had been their first honest conversation in nearly a year. She’d been open about her feelings in a way she never had been before. Recalling her anguish, his throat tightened. The grief she’d bottled up had been like a poison and needed to be purged. Truth be told, he’d been surprised by his own show of emotion. By expunging the past, they could move on. The loss would always be there, but they could face the future together.
He recalled her wistfulness regarding a second chance, and determination welled inside him. Now that there were no longer secrets between them, he would show his wife the sort of marriage he desired. He hadn’t made his move yet; he wanted to be strategic. To choose his next steps with deliberation and care. Although their tension had improved since their talk, Evie remained skittish around him.
Last night before supper, he had tested the waters. Dismissing his wife’s maid, he’d helped her put on her mama’s pearl necklace. She’d shivered when he’d slid those cool pearls around her neck, and he couldn’t resist kissing her—a simple brush of his lips beneath her left ear.
Color had flooded her cheeks. She’d twitched as if she’d touched an electrifying machine.
“We…we can’t be late for supper,” she’d stammered.
As excuses went, it was a transparent one, but he had let it go. Throughout supper, he’d watched her, the way those pearls bobbed upon her magnificent breasts, the sweet curve of her cheek when she smiled. Several times, their gazes had collided, and she’d averted hers, with an endearing shyness that made him grow hard beneath the table. That night, it had taken considerable willpower not to climb into bed with her.
He was recognizing that passion wasn’t their problem. Looking back, that had been the one area where their connection had always been robust. True, she’d pushed him away physically for a time, but her explanation had made sense. He believed that she hadn’t meant to do so—and now the heat was back between them, stronger than ever. Yet he sensed there was still something holding her back.
