A grin spread across his face. “I am quite sure if I called you anything, it was only terms of endearment.”
“Like giraffe?”
“I was jealous of those long legs of yours. They intrigued me. I saw them more than once as you hiked your skirts to wade in the creek, if you recall.” I felt his other hand come up and rest lightly on the back of my waist.
I swallowed, not daring to move—to end whatever this was. “I was clumsy and awkward. Iwasa giraffe.”
His gaze intensified on me. “That is thelastway I would describe you now.” His thumb grazed my cheek, leaving a trail of heat. “Your skin is so soft,” he whispered. His gaze traced the features of my face until his eyes landed once more on my own. “It gutted me to see you crying tonight, but now your eyes are as bright as two silver moons.”
“Do you give that sort of compliment to all your friends?” I asked, my chest rising.
He shook his head, his gaze growing heated. “Just you.” He leaned closer, stopping inches from me. His jaw tightened. “Friends can think other friends are attractive, can they not?”
“I . . . suppose.” The word came out breathless. If by attracted he meant they desperately wanted their friend to kiss them, then a million times yes.
He seemed to read my mind, his finger slipping to my bottom lip, slowly grazing it as if time was coming to a stop. “Is this goodbye then, Arabella?”
I couldn’t speak. I wanted him to read the thoughts my lips could not speak. The ones that screamed with confusion, wishing our past would fade into a history book so he could stay.
With me.
My hands closed around his waistcoat and shirt, fearing what goodbye would look like. If only we could remain like this and pretend away any consequences. Unintentionally, I tugged him a hair closer.
His head lowered once more, and I pushed off my toes to meet him. At the last moment his head shifted, and his lips brushed the corner of my mouth. He stayed there for a moment, his breath teasing me. His arms came fully around me then, crushing me to him. I clung to him in return, my cheek pressed to his rough one, the smell of him filling every sense I possessed. Tears filled my eyes once more. If this was goodbye, I didn’t want it to end.
But it had to. I had asked for it expressly only moments before. How could I be so changeable?
Rowan stepped off my hem and away from me, my whole body feeling hollow and empty.
He cleared his throat. “I’ll go first so no one sees that we’ve been together.”
The warmth on my hands from his chest seemed to burn my skin, and I clasped them tightly together. Not an hour ago, I had felt trapped in my own proverbial tower built with walls of unjust obligation and years of loathing a man, but now I feared I was in far greater trouble. Rowan’s presence hadn’t just distracted me but comforted me. Our conversationhad been easy and enjoyable. He made me laugh and was far more kind than I had ever given him credit for.
It wasn’t just about this attraction to him that I had been fighting for weeks now, but I wanted to see him happy. I wanted him to have the family he wanted. No, there was more. Much more. I wanted to be the one tomakehim happy.
“Goodnight,” Rowan said, his tender gaze finding mine again right before he slipped from the room.
“Goodnight,” I whispered after him. I had finally freed myself from Rowan, but I felt like I had made the worst mistake of my life.
Chapter 21
Rowan
Ileaned back in the chair in my room, stretching my neck so Hastings could shave it better. I normally preferred to see to this task myself, but I was in no condition to wield a razor. With how preoccupied I was with my time spent with Arabella last night, combing a sharp object against my neck would be disastrous.
“Are you all right, sir?” Hastings asked, stepping back for a moment.
“Yes. Why do you ask?”
“You keep moaning.”
“I do?” I had not even realized it. “I’m just mulling over a few things. You may continue.”
Hastings brought the razor back to my neck, allowing my mind to wander once more. When I arrived at Elmhurst, I did not believe in love. I had planned to marry, start a family, and find purpose in the action thereof. What a fool I’d been to think I could do all those things without my heart being entirely invested. It had been a selfish agenda.
Now I found my thoughts and desires were for someone else. I could not bear seeing Arabella unhappy. She had invaded my heart, likely from the moment I had met her again in Quillsbury, and somewhere between there and now had taken up permanent residence. Like a cold, I had developed one symptom and then another, and before I knew it, I had succumbed to loving her.
Was there a cure? Would it pass in time?
