Nathaniel’s smile widened. Then he lowered his head and captured her lips with his own.
The kiss was everything Serena had imagined and nothing like she had expected. It was gentle at first, tentative, as though he were asking a question with his lips rather than his words. But when she responded—when she rose on her toes and wound her arms around his neck and pulled him closer—the gentleness gave way to something deeper. Something hungry and urgent and overwhelmingly sweet.
She had been kissed before. Once, at a village dance when she was seventeen, by a farmer’s son who tasted of cider and awkward inexperience. And once, at her first position, by the master’s eldest son, who had mistaken a governess for fair sport. Neither experience had prepared her for this—for the way Nathaniel held her as though she were something to be treasured, for the reverence in the slow movement of his mouth against hers, for the astonishing certainty with which he made her feel not merely desired, but cherished.
When they finally broke apart, both of them were breathing hard.
“That was—” Serena began.
“Yes.”
“I mean, I had expected—”
“Yes.”
“Will you stop interrupting me?”
“No.” Nathaniel’s eyes were dark with emotion, his voice rough. “I cannot think of anything to say that would not be hopelessly inadequate, so I have resolved to agree with whatever you were about to utter. It was remarkable. It was astonishing. It was—quite without competition—the finest kiss in the entire history of the practice.”
Serena laughed, the sound bright and wholly unrestrained. “The entire history of the practice? That is a very bold claim, my lord.”
“I stand by my assessment.” He brushed a strand of hair from her face, his touch impossibly gentle. “I have wasted too many weeks not kissing you, Serena. Weeks of restraint and propriety and careful distance. I intend to make up for lost time.”
“That sounds like a threat.”
“It is a promise.” He kissed her again—a brief, sweet press of lips that left her wanting more. “I am going to kiss you every day. Multiple times a day. Whenever I see you, wherever we are, whatever we are doing. You will become so accustomed to being kissed that you will forget what it was like to live without it.”
“I already have.”
The admission slipped out before Serena could stop it, but she found she did not regret it. It was true. She had spent her entire life without this—without someone who looked at her the way Nathaniel was looking at her now, without the warmth of being held and cherished and wanted. And now that she had tasted it, she could not imagine going back to that cold, lonely existence.
“Good,” Nathaniel said, his voice rough with emotion. “Because I have no intention of letting you go. Ever.”
“Ever is a very long time.”
“Not long enough.” He pulled her close again, resting his chin on top of her head. “I am greedy, Serena. Now that I have you, I want forever.”
They stood like that for a long moment, wrapped in each other’s arms, the afternoon sunlight warming their faces. The garden was quiet around them, peaceful, as though the world itself were holding its breath.
“We should go inside,” Serena murmured eventually. “People will wonder where we are.”
“Let them wonder.”
“The children will want to see us.”
“The children are with Mrs McConnor, being thoroughly spoiled with biscuits and stories. They can survive a little longer without us.”
“Nathaniel—”
“Serena.” He pulled back just enough to look at her, his expression suddenly serious. “When we go inside, everything changes. There will be wedding plans to discuss and announcements to send and a thousand practical matters to attend to. Elspeth may be gone, but her shadow will linger for a while yet. There will be challenges ahead—social challenges, personal challenges, all the complications that come with building a life together.”
“I know.”
“I want this moment. This hour, this afternoon, this brief space of time where nothing exists except you and me and the promise we have made to each other.” His hands tightened on her waist. “Give me this, Serena. Let me be selfish just a little longer.”
How could she refuse him? How could she refuse anything when he looked at her like that—as though she were the answer to every question he had ever asked, the solution to every problem he had ever faced?
“You can be selfish,” she said softly. “For a little while longer.”
