She sat back, a little overwhelmed by his praise. She’d never known he felt that way about her.
Perhaps it was the lateness of the hour, or the grief she’d already endured, but she looked at him, hiding nothing. “My dearest love, will you please give up those horrible diamonds? I cannot endure another hour of thinking you gone.”
He didn’t speak, only placed his hand against her cheek, searching her face.
“I didn’t think you would ever say that to me,” he said softly. “Dearest love?”
“My very dearest,” she said softly. “Dearling.”
He brushed her chin with his fingers, traced the line of her jaw, trailed them over her lips. “I fell in love with you the moment I saw you. The moment you leveled that disdainful glance in my direction, and I saw thefear in your eyes. I thought you brave before, but now I know how much courage is in your heart.”
He leaned over and kissed her and, for a delightful few moments, conversation was simply unnecessary.
When he drew back, she slid her hands up to link them behind his neck and leaned forward, placing her cheek gently against his wounded cheek.
“I was so worried,” she said. She’d been grief-stricken, like the woman in the mirror. She pushed that thought from her mind, in favor of curiosity. She pulled back. “Did you cause the explosion on purpose?”
He smiled. “Actually? I planned to blow off the door, not the entire house. If Simons hadn’t decided to release me, I might have been scattered from here to Scotland.”
“Good for Simons,” she said. “Perhaps we can find a position for him somewhere.”
“I think I’ll offer him a position as majordomo,” he said, surprising her. “He can either educate Paulson or replace him. Either way, Alano will be happy.”
She chuckled and placed her hand against his chest, over his heart, feeling it beat strongly. At this moment, this perfect moment covered in soot and dust, and breathing the scent of fire, Lady Sarah Eston was the happiest she’d ever been.
Chapter 33
Sarah was in the library, in a special area she’d created on the second floor behind the book stacks, when Douglas entered and called out her name.
She stood and came to the railing, looking down at Douglas. His hair was windblown, his jacket askew. It must have been raining; his hair was damp and his shirt dotted with moisture.
Dear God, please don’t let the Duke of Herridge have issued another edict. He’d been driving everyone mad with his demands. He wanted his toast in a certain way; he demanded to know the name of the young girl who was nearly rude to him this morning. His mattress needed to be shifted, he wanted the Duke’s Suite painted, and he hadn’t liked anything Cook had prepared during the last month.
He had even grumbled about the distribution of the Henley Gift, funded entirely by Douglas, of course. He’d been such a disruptive presence that most of the staff had turned and frowned at him. Blessedly, he’d left shortly thereafter, and the gathering had turned into a well-deserved celebration.
The Duke of Herridge had not been in residence for a great many years, and from what she’d witnessed,the staff of Chavensworth wished he’d remained in London. But with his house destroyed, there was no other place for him to go, and he’d been living there for the past twenty-seven days.
Twenty-seven miserable days.
Regrettably, there were no funds to rebuild his house in London. However, Douglas had offered Sarah to do just that one night when the Duke of Herridge was being particularly difficult. They were sitting in the Chinese Parlor, one of Douglas’s favorite rooms.
“It was my fault the house burned down,” he said.
“It washisfault for imprisoning you! And Tim!”
In the end, he’d agreed not to begin construction.
She’d not forgotten that her husband was stubborn and Scottish. When she said as much to him, Douglas had only smiled, and said, “Your being wholly Scottish would explain your degree of stubbornness, my dear wife,” he said.
She stared at him. “You’ve never said that before.”
“Called you stubborn? I think I have.”
“No, called me wife.”
He smiled. “Yes, I did,” he said. “Our wedding day, as I remember.”
That comment had led to a kiss, which had led to even more delightful occupations. In fact, it was difficult to be in the same room with Douglas. Either the urge to touch him was too great, or his kisses were too intoxicating.
