“As it does in all things, to the family’s everlasting benefit. If I believed your better judgment were at work with her, Ives, I would have never said a word.”
***
Ives tucked a blanket around Padua’s legs and lap. That charmed her, as did the cushion he had insisted be put on the board where she sat. The day was not really cold and her pelisse would be sufficient, but she did not object to his efforts to make her comfortable in the simple open carriage they would use for this outing.
He climbed up and took the reins. Their horse paced out of the yard and aimed toward the lane.
The day shone fair, but a crisp breeze kicked dried leaves all around the gig. The horse made a fast trot down the lane. Halfway to the road, Ives pulled on the reins and stopped. He turned and pulled Padua into a long kiss.
“That is to make up for what I could not do this morning,” he said, snapping the reins again. “I apologize for the embarrassment, and for a bad end to the night.”
“It was not as bad as it looked. I discovered thatembarrassment has a limit. Once you reach it, things do not get worse.” She laughed. “Eva had said she would come in the morning to see about altering some garments, but I never thought she would arrive at daybreak.”
“I daresay she will never enter a visitor’s chamber again without sending a note first, after this.”
“It could have been worse. Had I not pulled the sheet over you, she would have seen much more. I doubt even Eva could have remained so blasé then.”
Padua could not resist making the face of astonishment she thought Eva would have shown. They shared a good laugh over that.
Padua wiped tears from her eyes. “She did not say anything the whole time we fitted the garments. I think she will be as discreet as she promised.”
“Except with Gareth. She told him.”
“Do you think so?”
“I know it. I saw him right before I joined you and the smile he gave me was unmistakable.”
“A congratulatory smile, no doubt. That is how men would think of it for you.”
She received an odd look for that. Once again he stopped the gig. “Padua, I will not pretend that I acted honorably last night. Such considerations did not exist. The only thought in my head was that I wanted you. I did not give you much choice, either, and that was not fair.”
“I was not importuned. Overwhelmed, perhaps, but not treated dishonorably. I am not a schoolgirl.”
“You are not very worldly either.”
“Not an opera singer, as Eva said?”
“Definitely not.”
She did not care for the awkwardness descending between them. She feared, she realized, that Ives was going to decide to be honorable in the future. “I do not regret it, if you are wondering about that. I am not angry or think you took advantage. Perhaps I should be, but I am not.”
He aimed the carriage down a hill toward a small chapel set among a stand of oaks. As they moved past it, she saw the graveyard to its side. A sepulcher dominated it, standing twice as high as any of the other memorials and dwarfing the small tombstones.
“Is that your father’s tomb?”
He shook his head. “My brother’s. My father’s is very modest.”
She turned and looked back at the graveyard. “How odd.”
“Not at all. A man who achieved something does not need any mark on his grave to be remembered. A man who accomplished little that is good can leave nothing else to remind the world he once lived.”
“You were not fond of this brother, I think.”
“I hated him.”
There could be no response to such a flat, simple statement.
He took the reins in one hand, and took her own hand in his free one. “I have shocked you with that bald and heartless admission. It is not something I share often. Not something I give voice to. I hope you do notthink badly of me, but it is the truth. I hated him. We all did. The others had more cause than I, but he cast such a shadow over us that when he died we—well, no one mourned him much.”
