“Delighted.” He smiled. “You have mustard on your mouth. Here.” He gestured to the corner of his well-formed mouth while his eyes met hers, so sensual. A lick of flame warmed her from head to toe. When she removed the spicy mustard with her tongue, she thought he sighed.
She questioned him about the estate, and he seemed happy to talk about it. It appeared to be very large and exceedingly well run.
They left the dining room after their coffee, walking out into the garden. They neared the rose garden, the air scented with their sweet perfume. The glorious display made her catch her breath. Walking along the rows, she bent to study a red rose. “Such a lush bloom, and what a beautiful color,” she murmured.
“The gardeners have surpassed themselves this year.” He leaned over and picked the rose, presenting it to her. “A rose for a rose, whom I shall miss.”
Laura’s chest tightened. She wanted to say so much and yet must not. Debnam brushed a lock of her hair away from her cheek. A good hand, well-shaped with long fingers. The hand that had touched her body in places no other man had done, or was likely ever to do. Was it only she who felt the air become hushed with wanting? She wished he would kiss her, enfold her in his arms, but knew he would not. If she had lain with him, could she ever have left him?
She distracted herself by recalling that Robert was alone in his bedchamber and still far from well. It helped to pull herself together. “I must return upstairs.”
He sighed audibly, the magic broken. “Yes. I suppose you must.”
Laura left him at the staircase and hurried up, her heart still beating too fast. Why must she be made to feel shame because she wanted to feel passion? To enjoy a man’s love? To be happy? She took several deep breaths to calm herself before she entered Robert’s room, unsure of what she would find.
“There you are.” Robert sat up in bed with a sling on his right arm, which the doctor had put on earlier. His luncheon tray, stacked with the empty plates, sat on the table. “You’ve been gone for hours.”
She smiled and shook her head. “Am I not also allowed to eat?” She glanced at the tray. “I’m pleased to see you have regained your appetite.”
“I ordered meat for supper. They would like to turn me into a milksop, eating their soft food.”
“It would have been on the doctor’s orders.” She sat on the edge of the bed. “I am very relieved to see you’re getting better.”
Robert nodded his head. “Friday, Laura. We finally go home.”
“If you are well enough, Robert.”
“I will be.”
Two more days, Laura thought.And then this will be all but a memory.
“You will be glad to go, too,” Robert said. “It must have been difficult here for you while I was ill.”
That he gave any thought to her at all surprised her. “Lord Debnam has made us very comfortable. You must thank him, Robert. Or your bad manners will embarrass me.”
“All right. But it wasn’t my fault. Lord Gaylord sent that letter to rouse me to anger. Anyone would have acted as I did.”
“Not everyone, but I imagine he wrote it with that aim.”
“Why would he? A person doesn’t say such things unless there is some truth to it.”
“There isn’t. I took it upon myself to roam the estate grounds alone, although Debnam wished a maid to accompany me. And I met Gaylord twice. I suspect he had some axe to grind. We certainly cannot blame Lord Debnam.”
Robert shook his head. “According to Gaylord, Debnam is likely to become mad and dangerous at any time. Naturally, it brought me here in a hurry, determined to defend you, as any brother would.”
“He said that, exactly?”
“Yes.” He groaned. “I can’t wait to have you safely home again, Lolly.”
“It was cruel of Gaylord, and utter nonsense,” she said. “But we shall leave as soon as it’s safe for you to travel.” Robert nodded and leaned his head back on the pillow. It appeared he had forgotten the appallingly selfish way he’d acted when he’d sent her here.
*
In the library,while awaiting his steward, Brendan thought of those precious moments spent with Laura. When he was with her, life seemed more normal, just a man enjoying a comfortable conversation with a beautiful woman. He didn’t have to flatter her or make promises, which mistresses demanded. Laura took him as he was and often made him laugh. How long had it been since he’d laughed, really laughed, with a woman? He joked with his friends, Tate and Hart, when they rode in Hyde Park or played cards, and he enjoyed their companionship, but once he returned home, the low mood enveloped him. Refusing to burden those two happily married men with his concerns, he rarely spoke of his past. Even though it caused a wall between them, and they were observant enough to recognize it.
A knock sounded on the door.
“Come.”
