The garden had its own bees, along with a few early butterflies tumbling about the flowers like brightly colored acrobats. The day was warm and the sun gentle behind the fluffy white clouds. A dream of a day. A dream of a garden, especially when she discovered the overgrown arbor against the back wall. Much like the arbor at her home, it had facing benches tucked within the profusion of soft lilac wisteria that grew so lushly it all but hid the bench from view from the house.
Maybe the arbor was increasing her anxiety. Because the minute he saw it, Grey grinned like a pirate.
“I’ll wait a bit on that brandy, Wren,” he announced and held out his arm.
Georgie didn’t know what to do but lay her hand atop it and allow him to guide her in to duck under the fragrant bower.
Grey sat her down on one bench but did not take the other one. He took up the rest of the bench she sat on, crowding her with his deliciously hard body, hips and shoulders and thighs. Oh, those thighs.
She cleared her throat.
“Mrs. Wren was right,” Grey said, laying his arm across the bench behind her. “This is alovelygarden.”
Georgie refused to simper or shy, even if her body had started up that disconcerting hum again, that buzz of anticipation. Now it had an idea of what Grey could make her feel, and that shortened its patience. Georgie had the most disconcerting urge to hum right along with her body.
Grey eased his arm around her shoulders and stroked his fingers along her arm. She shivered. He noticed and smiled more widely. And Georgie unfortunately remembered another bit of her grandmother’s advice.
Begin as you mean to go on.
No more secrets. No more evasions merely to get along. She needed to know what to expect.
So, she cleared her throat again. “I assume you have more than flower appreciation on your mind,” she said, not quite able to face him.
He leaned in to kiss her ear, which of course set off new shivers. “I do. Do you mind?”
“No….er, well, as long as we don’t miss dinner. Mrs. Wren was quite excited by the menu. Roast lamb and haricot verts.”
Another kiss, a bit farther down her neck. “That’s nice.”
“I would also not like to be discovered imitating a Gunter’s ice, if you don’t mind.”
“I can leave every stitch of clothing on you,” he promised. She could hear his smile.
She looked over, trying to work that out. “How?”
His eyes were molten and so dark she could tumble right into them. “Do you trust me?”
She tilted her head in consideration. She did. Mostly. But she kept hearing her grandmother.Begin as you mean….
“Can I ask some questions first?” she asked, clenching her hands in her lap. “We haven’t had any time to...well, make certain we’re on the same page.”
That brought his head up. “I thought we had, for which I believe you should be very grateful. It isn’t every husband who can ensure his wife’s privacy as long as I believe you wish. Especially when the husband considers himself a slave to that wife’s beauty.”
Georgie’s head came back. “Please stop,” she said. “You don’t need to do that.”
He actually looked confused. “Do what? Call my wife beautiful?”
She sucked in a breath. “I would only ask you to be truthful. I am not beautiful. My mother allows the terms ‘striking’ or ‘gracious.’ But you know perfectly well I am not in the fashion.”
“You are inmyfashion, madame.”
That stole her thoughts completely. Good heavens, he looked like he meant it. Eddie was the beauty in the family. There were several of Georgie’s sisters and cousins who would slay hearts as they aged. But Georgie was...utilitarian. Useful. Competent. Not...beautiful.She truly didn’t know what to make of Grey’s assertion.
He considered her again. “You don’t believe me,” he said, sounding very surprised.
She managed a shrug. “It is a foreign concept. As I said, my contribution to society is to educate siblings and ease young men into etiquette. Not to provoke or succumb to a mad passion.”
He shook his head. “Poor fools. They don’t know what they missed.” With another kiss to her neck, he reached down with his free hand and unclenched hers. “Now, what were those questions you wanted to ask?”
