But what of emotions?she’d asked.God gave you a handsome face and yet you have a stone heart.
Ned hadn’t understood what she was talking about. Intercourse was a biological necessity. Why should the heart be involved?
Besides, emotions called for trust and there were only two people in this world Ned had learned he could trust—Marsden and Balfour. He’d also been honest with Emily from the start. He’d wanted nothing from her, save the comfort of her body. There wasn’t a female on the planet he trusted enough to let down his guard, not even Clarissa—and he liked her more than any others he knew.
Clarissa broke the kiss. Her lovely eyes were closed as if she’d savored every second. Her body leaned against his, her breasts on his chest. She drew in a deep breath. “You smell of the wind and storm clouds. I could wallow in it.”
He laughed. She was being fanciful. Sometimes, she wore a scent with a hint of roses or violet. It was nice enough but he had no desire towallowin it, and he wouldn’t tell someone if he did—
Suddenly, he realized what Emily had actually been saying. Hewascold.
Like his mother?
Never once had he wanted to fold himself into a woman because of the way she smelled.Not completely true, his medically trained mind argued. He was stirred by a whiff of female, as any man would be.
“You truly don’t mind marrying me?” Clarissa asked. She pulled back slightly. In the depths of her eyes he saw her fears, her doubts—and it was his role to reassure her.
“I’m actually honored,” he lied.
The tension left her. She smiled and leaned against him again. Ned willed himself to stand firm.
“When?” she whispered. “Whenwill we marry?”
Damn it all, more questions.
Correctly reading his hesitation, she prodded softly, “Ned, I can’t keep living off the Nelsons’ Christian charity for much longer.”
“I know.” He took a step away. He needed his own space. “A decision should be made, but I can’t make it right now.” What a relief to say those words! “Our time today is almost up. I can’t hash it out in this moment. I must be on my way. The Widow Smethers twisted her ankle yesterday, or, at least, I hope that is what she did. It could be a break. Her ankle was too swollen for me to diagnose. I suspect that a night’s rest will make the matter clearer.
“Then,”he continued, before Clarissa could make more demands, “I must stop by the Balfours’.” He started toward the house where his horse, Hippocrates, was being walked by one of the squire’s stable lads.
Disappointment crossed Clarissa’s face. However, she followed him, asking politely, “How isMrs. Balfour? How is the baby?” Kate Balfour was pregnant.
“Good, although I don’t understand why Balfour insists I do the delivery. Midwifery is not my usual line of work but they are very good friends. Kate says I need to listen—”
He broke off, his words coming to a halt as a realization struck him. Ned was not always perceptive, but there were times when he’d have insight. Kate had warned him early in her pregnancy that he mustlistento her better, something thatwasa challenge for him. He was a busy man. He preferred to diagnose and move on to other patients. Practicing patience and listening to Kate had helped their friendship—as well as his understanding of where her pregnancy was.
Now, he realized he needed to force himself to listen to Clarissa, too. She was right when she said she could not live with Squire Nelson forever and they needed to settle on a marriage date.
Ned reached a decision. “We shall marry after the Frost lecture,” he said.
Her response was a frown. “Why wait so long?”
“Clarissa, when do I have time before then? I could be called out for the Balfours’ baby at any moment.” That wasn’t completely true. There was a good month left before Kate Balfour delivered. “Then, there is the Cotillion.” The dance celebrated the beginning of summer. It was the highlight of Maidenshop’s social calendar. Ned abhorred it, although now it provided a plausible excuse.
“And even then,” he continued, “my mind up till then will be completely occupied by the Frost lecture.” Which happened the day after the dance. “So we really can’t marry before then.” Even as he finished the last word, a weight settled upon him, a sense that this was wrong. His gut urged him to retract the statement.
And yet, he was a gentleman. He’d made the offer to her. Any man of honor stood by his word. Two years was enough waiting.
Clarissa’s face lit with understanding acceptance and obvious relief—as if she’d feared he was fobbing her off and now thought better. “Yes, I see. Thank you, sir. Thank you. I shall be the best wife ever. You’ll have no regrets.”
He already did.
She began chattering about how happy the Nelsons would be. He nodded woodenly, moving steadily for his horse.
Of course, he couldn’t just escape. When they reached the drive, Squire Nelson was coming out of the house. Clarissa told her guardian the happy news that a date had been set. He shouted into the house for his wife and daughters to come hear the happy news. There were congratulations all around.
And Ned’s smile felt tighter and tighter.
