Mattie, one of Corie’s lady’s maids since Estelle had no use for such help at the parsonage with her father, appeared flushed, too, from hurrying after them. Almost lamely, she held out to Estelle the pink paisley shawl she’d carried even though the afternoon had grown warmer, the expansive gardens awash in bright sunlight.
“No thank you, Mattie, I’m fine,” she murmured, realizing the young woman’sgaze had dropped to Valentin’s hand still holding hers.
Estelle looked down, too, wondering if anyone else might be watching them from a castle window, though in truth, she didn’t care. She felt in a glorious dream with Valentin standing so close—dear Lord,right next to her! The sunlight turning his hair to gold, the masculine planes of his face so handsome, his chest rising and falling as hecaught his breath, too.
Yet why wouldn’t he smile? Other than the slight curving of his lips when they had first arrived, she hadn’t seen him look anything but serious. As if he bore some invisible burden upon his broad shoulders, even now his gaze upon her so somber.
Without a word, he drew her toward a white marble bench set against manicured boxwoods and indicated that she sit, only thenreleasing her hand.
Strangely, she felt bereft without the touch of his fingers clasping hers, a feeling she’d never known before. While Mattie went to stand at a discreet distance, though well within view, Estelle looked up at Valentin, whose eyes hadn’t left her face for a moment. Their steely hue had darkened, but then he seemed to square his shoulders beneath the tailored fit of his darkblue coat.
“I don’t know where to begin. I’m just grateful you’re here after so many months when I wondered if you thought of me—though I hoped you did.”
“I wondered the same thing, too!” Estelle blurted, all those months of pent-up frustration and worry causing the words to spill forth unchecked. “You didn’t write to us, well, other than that one letter telling us you were safe. I knew youand Donovan had spoken right before you left, and I was certain he must have offered to help you. He’s a wonderful man and so caring toward all of us. How could he not offer to help you after you saved my life?”
“He did help me, Estelle, though I asked him not to. I sensed even then that peril might come to your family, but he insisted upon it. I had little money—certainly not enough to takeus very far. He paid for Robert’s and my passage to Northumberland where we lodged with a military friend of his—”
“So you went first to Northumberland!” Estelle burst out, her imagination already dancing with all the places Valentin must have gone as a fugitive. “How long did you stay there? Where did you go next?”
“Bratavia. I wrote to Donovan the day before I left to inform him of my decision.I returned home to prevent another visit from my uncle’s henchmen. Donovan had sent a letter to warn me and to let me know what happened to you, to Linette—shot by one of those bastards, God help me, I’ll never forgive myself!”
His face had grown so haggard of a sudden, so tortured, that Estelle could only stare at him, stunned, his revelation whirling in her mind.
Valentin had returned home? If he’d no longer been a fugitive, then what had happened to him when he arrived? A terrible chill crept into her heart as intuition gripped her, the afternoon no longer so bright, the roses no longer so fragrant.
“I couldn’t bear that any further harm come to you or your family. Nor could I bear you asking me tonight at dinner about all the places I traveled, when I’d come home instead. I thoughtyou should know what had happened, though I understand why Donovan spared you the truth. It’s a miracle to me every day that I’m still alive.”
“Oh, Valentin, forgive me for my foolish questions! When we didn’t hear from you for so long, I feared trouble might have found you, but I never gave up hope you were alive and well. Never!”
She’d jumped up from the bench, his expression so stricken thatshe didn’t want to think of the horrors he must have endured thanks to his uncle, not the least of which was the loss of his father! She took his hands in hers, tears filling her eyes.
“I never had the chance to thank you for saving my life, Valentin. I’ve dreamed about this day. Now I’ve learned our debt goes so much deeper than words could ever express…”
She couldn’t go on, her voice catching,though something told her in the tension visibly easing from his shoulders that he’d found some relief from sharing the truth with her.
In the gauntness of his face that she’d noticed earlier—not knowing why!—relaxing, too, his eyes no longer darkened to a turbulent gray.
Almost self-consciously, she released his hands though she was loath to, his grip so warm and strong.
If only she couldgo on holding his hands, and Valentin, hers, she found herself wishing. Yet they had already breached the proper decorum expected of an unmarried young lady and young gentleman—no, fairly thrown it out the window!
At the very least, she wished she knew some way to make him smile! Anything to ease his heart and mind after what he must have suffered…
“Come, Estelle. There’s a gazebo up ahead.”
Valentin had hooked his arm through hers to guide her along a path through carefully tended rosebushes laden with blooms, their heady fragrance enlivening her senses.
Yet no more than the closeness of him, Estelle feeling as if everything had grown right once more with the world. She was so focused upon his striking profile and the lean strength in his arm that she didn’t see the gazebo with itscupola roof until they’d come upon it.
“I had a picnic prepared for us,” he said, leading her up the white-painted steps to a rose petal strewn table set for two. She saw him then, the older, gray-haired man she recognized at once as Robert, descending the opposite stairs as if he hadn’t wanted to disturb them. He gestured to Mattie, who had followed her and Valentin at a respectful distance,and together they moved to a shaded bench further along the path.
“Close enough…but not too close,” Valentin murmured, pulling out an ornate metal chair for Estelle so she might sit down. Then he moved another chair closer and joined her, watching her face as she gasped in delight at the spread before them: Two sparkling glasses of white wine, delicate finger sandwiches, purple grapes and plumpstrawberries dusted with sugar, and a silver plate piled with sweet confections.
“I didn’t give Robert much notice, but he’s done well with our little picnic, don’t you think?”
“Oh, yes, it’s wonderful!” Estelle accepted a brimming glass from Valentin, so warmed by his thoughtfulness that she didn’t need a sip of wine to blush with pleasure. He didn’t pick up a glass though, instead appearingcontent to watch her as she eagerly sampled a cucumber finger sandwich after he gestured for her to try one.
In truth she was famished, and one sandwich became a quick succession of four, followed by a buttery baked tart filled with raspberries and cream that nearly had her swooning.
