“I am sorry, Father, for the grief you felt.” More quietly, he added, “We felt it too.”And we needed you.
“You think you love her?”
“I do.”
“And if you lose her?”
The very question brought searing pain to the center of Tristan’s chest.
“Life is dangerous,” his father murmured. “Childbirth carries risks.” He gestured at the wall. “Infections spread. And that one, that person who you know you cannot be without, is suddenly gone.”
Tristan felt tears burning behind his eyes. “I won’t…” He swallowed against the constriction in his throat. “I will not let fear keep me from every moment I might have with her. Of course, I don’t want to lose her. Ever. But most of all, I want to spend all of my future days with her. However many I am granted.”
His father hung his head.
Tristan sensed his disappointment. His despair.
When his father lifted his head, his eyes were glistening. “I understand. Better than you know.” He laid a hand against his chest and squeezed at his shirtfront. For a moment, Tristan was afraid his heart had seized and bent toward him.
“I cannot dispel the fear myself,” his father rasped, “but it will not stop me from praying you are granted many happy years.” He looked at Tristan squarely. “I want all good things for you, son.”
Tristan ducked his head, blinking back his own tears. He got to his feet, and his father pushed up onto his feet with his cane too.
“Thank you, Father.” Tristan reached for his father and embraced him as he hadn’t done since he was a boy.
CHAPTER 11
The note had been given to her by the housemaid who’d been tending to Marigold, slipped into her hand as she sat at her sister’s bedside after taking dinner in Lily’s room with her.
I want to see you whenever you are free. I’ve spoken to Edgerton.
- Tristan
Now it was nightfall,and the house had grown quiet. She’d left Marigold minutes ago. Hyacinth had read her a story until her sister’s eyes slid closed and then returned to her own room.
Everything in her wanted to go to Tristan’s chamber. Or did he intend to come to hers?
Lily had made no mention of Tristan’s talk with Griffin, but perhaps they had been speaking together while she and Lily were dining.
Too impatient to wait, Hyacinth washed quickly with some water in the basin. Then she removed the day dress she’d beenwearing. She bit her lip, considering how bold she should be. But the answer rang in her heart and mind immediately.
Entirely. Utterly. Without hesitation. She wished to be thoroughly bold because she knew how she felt about Tristan, had known for months.
She slipped on a night dress, then a green velvet robe, cinching the tie at her waist and another at her neck. Before she could lose her courage, she opened her door, peeked into the hallway to make sure it was empty and she could go unobserved, and then darted down the hall to Tristan’s door.
Holding her breath, she rapped as lightly as she dared, hoping she didn’t rouse anyone else.
A moment later, he opened the door, reached for her, and tugged her inside, closing the door behind her.
Suddenly, he stepped closer, an arm around her waist, one against the door, and her back was against the panel.
He drank her in with his gaze—her hair, her eyes, her mouth, and then seemed to forget to breathe when he realized what she wore.
His mouth opened but nothing but a garbled sound emerged.
“I missed you,” she whispered, reaching up to run her finger along his lower lip.
He let out a low hum that sounded a bit like a growl and lowered his head, pulling her closer with a hand around her waist. His lips claimed hers, and she kissed him as if she’d been waiting to do so forever. It felt as if she had. Her hunger for him was so great that she couldn’t imagine ever getting used to the sheer pleasure of being able to touch him, hold him, kiss him as if he was hers.
