CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Roarke leaned his head back against the maroon velvet squabs of his coach with an appreciative sigh. After a night of hard drinking and a day of traveling in a coach that was sprung like a timber wagon, he certainly had a higher value for the finer things.
“It is rather nice, isn’t it?”
He cracked an eye and glanced at Mara, where she ran her hand lightly across the soft material beside her. He was almost jealous about how she caressed his carriage, bemoaning the fact that it wasn’t a part of him that was getting all that attention. But then, he thought with a sigh, he didn’t have a legal claim for such delights. At least, not yet, but the special license was still safely tucked away in his coat pocket, and before they returned to London, he intended to make use of it.
With a frown, he said, “There’s nothing wrong with allowing yourself a few pleasures in life, Mara.”
“Unfortunately, I’ve never had that luxury,” she said with a melancholy smile.
“You could have.”
She pursed her lips. “We’ve had this conversation before. After I told you about Lily, I thought you would understand—”
“What?” he cocked his head to the side to regard her more steadily. “That you didn’t trust me to take care of any scandal that might arise?” He snorted. “Your lack of faith in me astounds me even now.”
“Roarke—”
“No.” He held up a hand. “You’re absolutely right. We’ve been down this path before, and nothing has come of it, so what’s the point?”
He closed his eyes to put an end to it, but after a time, he heard Mara say softly, “I’m sorry, Roarke—for hurting you, for not believing in you. For everything, really. I just hope that someday you can find a way to forgive me.”
Roarke blew out a weary breath. “There’s nothing to forgive, Mara. There never really was.”
With a quick nod of her head, she turned away from him, but not before he saw the glimmer of tears in her eyes. Her sorrow cut him straight to the heart, and before he could think better of it, he crossed to her side of the carriage and pulled her to him, thankful that she didn’t resist.
He rubbed a hand down her back and put his chin on the top of her head to whisper, “I know you felt you had no other choice to protect Lily. I see that now. I just hate I wasn’t there when you needed me, or that you didn’t feel like you could come to me for help.”
He felt a shudder course through her body, but there were no sobs. “I relive that day so many times and regret not doing so every time. For however else it has turned out, surely it couldn’t have been any worse than it turned out.”
Roarke leaned back just enough where he could put a finger under her chin to lift it to face him. “How about we start over? Let’s just forget the past for awhile and just concentrate on getting to know each other again.”
She blinked, and he could tell he’d surprised her. “Can we do that?”
He couldn’t help but chuckle. “I don’t see why not. We’re both adults with a rather uncertain future and a shady past, so what’s wrong with focusing on the present? It’s all we really have anyway. Besides,” he shrugged. “I think there’s a certain irony in being at Eversleigh Hall together again. Perhaps it’s a second chance.”
Her green eyes filled with moisture. “Oh, Roarke, if only—”
“It is,” he corrected. Unable to resist, he bent forward and placed a gentle kiss on her lips. He nearly smiled, for it suddenly reminded him of their first kiss. It was the same sort of chaste peck that he’d given her in the servant’s stairwell. “So what do you say, my dear?”
He could tell that she was considering the idea before she broke out into a shy smile that melted his heart even further. “I think I’d like that. However temporary it might be, it will be worth it.”
* * *
A late luncheon was spent in Yeovil, where Mara felt a ray of happiness finally break through her haze of misery. Granted, the shining sun was a further balm to her senses, but she knew it was the man at her side who made all the difference. He even held on to her hand when they walked in the local inn and requested a private table.
With a small candle burning between them and the smoldering, wicked glances he kept shooting her way, she couldn’t help but be romanticized by it all. She felt like a giddy girl again, and she knew he felt a similar, youthful exuberance. While the concern for Lily and Bentley was constantly on her mind, with Roarke she knew she could face whatever might lie ahead.
Once they’d finished their meal, Roarke took her hand and led her outside, but instead of going toward the coach, he pulled her in the opposite direction. “Where are we going?” she asked.
“It’s a surprise,” he replied with a wink.
“Don’t be silly,” she said, shocked at how breathless and excited she sounded about the prospect.
With a laugh, he merely tucked her closer to his side. As they walked, he told her a brief history. “Do you know that this town has seen more than its share of heartache? From the Black Death to several fires, Yeovil has struggled throughout history. However”—he held up a finger—“there is something about this city that has outlived it all.”
Mara smiled. “And what is that?”
