The right thing?Wouldn’t it be the right thingnotto make the lady in question hate him? Wouldn’t it be the right thing to give the lady in question the opportunity to decide whatshewanted to do?
But Grams was right when she said there was no way to stop servants from gossiping. Gavin had been the topic of manyrumors over the past few years. Some of the things he had heard had damaged his heart.He is just like is father.Gavin didn’t ever want to be like his father. And so he must marry Priscilla, even if it would upset her.
“Fine,” he whispered heavily, and met his grandmother’s stare. “I’ll marry Miss Priscilla. But please let me talk to her first. I want her to hear it from me. Then, if she gets upset, you can step in and convince her why this is right.”
His grandmother smiled and nodded. “You have made the right decision.”
“I hope so, or my life is going to be miserable for years to come.”
*
The next day,Priscilla’s ankle felt much better. The dowager had her physician take a look at the injury, and he concluded the same thing Priscilla had suspected—it was a sprain. Thankfully, just as Gavin had suggested, the dowager understood and allowed her to rest. However, Priscilla was tired of being in her room.
She stepped lightly on her ankle as she walked down the stairs. Her heart had lightened considerably thanks to her time spent alone, and especially because she hadn’t seen Gavin since they had exited the coach yesterday. She’d had a pleasant visit with the dowager duchess, and Priscilla thanked the stars in the heavens that her employer hadn’t chosen to release her from being a lady’s companion. Gavin must have done as he said he would, and hopefully, there was a way to convince the servants not to gossip.
Gavin’s handsome face hadn’t left her mind, which was frustrating, especially after she had gone to bed last night. All night, she’d dreamed about kissing him. Now, as she thoughtabout those passionate dreams, her heartbeat skipped excitedly. Why did it feel so real? The way her body burned, and her lips tingled, made her wonder if ithadbeen real. Why could she still feel the touch of his tongue against hers, especially when he had not kissed her like that eighteen months ago? She could still feel his arms around her as they lay beside each other on the sofa, their mouths fused as the air around her became hotter than the fire in the hearth.
It wasn’t real… Or was it? Could he have kissed her sometime during the time they cuddled on the sofa yesterday? They had both fallen asleep, but what if he had awakened and taken advantage of her? But for some reason, her heart told her that she had participated fully, and enjoyed every second of his teaching.
She fisted her hands and grumbled. Why couldn’t she just let this go? If theyhadkissed, she would surely remember something so incredible that it melted her heart and made her breathless. It was not as though she’d had a lot of kissing experiences in her life. So why did she remember copying the way his tongue stroked hers, and recall the feeling of floating on air and never wanting it to end?
She touched her finger to her lips, and an image resurfaced in her memory. He’d had that ridiculous pink and green blanket wrapped around his shoulders. His smoldering gaze had beckoned her. She could see his neck and a bare shoulder, and wondered what it would feel like to touch it. But to keep herself from caressing his skin, she threaded her fingers through his tousled hair that felt so soft. He had leaned toward her but stopped. Yet she continued until their mouths met. He kissed her so very gently, until passion crept into her body, making her groan with excitement. That was when he deepened the kiss. Urgency swept over her, and she had wanted more. She had beensatisfied in knowing that he wanted to kiss her and thrill her just as much.
Oh, heavens!Why did it feel so real?
She pushed the dream back in her mind and focused on her duty. The first thing she did was check on the dowager. As she stopped in front of her chambers and raised her hand to knock, the door opened and out walked the dowager’s maid.
The woman gasped and stepped out, closing the door behind her. “Good morning, Miss Priscilla.”
Priscilla found it odd that the maid wouldn’t allow her entrance. “Is the dowager awake?”
“She has had a dreadful headache this morning and doesn’t wish to be disturbed.”
Priscilla sighed in frustration. Now what could she do to occupy her time? Hopefully, Gavin was in his study and didn’t want to be bothered as well.
“Thank you. Will you inform me when she is ready so that I can get her?”
The maid nodded before moving past Priscilla and hurrying down the stairs.
Disappointed, Priscilla wandered down to the main level. Perhaps she should read a book, but it seemed that every time she picked one up, she couldn’t stop thinking about Gavin and their time in the dark library that first night.
Her heart did a silly flip-flop. The library was out of the question. It was too bad she wasn’t up for riding… And anyway, would riding remind her of being with Gavin at the cottage? Probably.
She stopped at the music room. Playing always calmed her, and the dowager had told her she could play any time she wanted.
Feeling better about what to do now, she sat behind the pianoforte. She placed her fingers over the keys as a melodycame to mind. It didn’t take long before her fingers were brushing the keys as the tune flew from her memory.
She closed her eyes, but the handsome man’s face in her mind disturbed her, so she watched her fingers instead. This particular piece by Mozart made her long for home—the home she used to know as a child, and especially the closeness she’d had with Bridget. Where had the years gone? Growing into adult women was hard and sometimes lonely. Especially now.
Before Bridget fell in love and married Lord Adrian, Priscilla and her older sister had enjoyed doing things together—from cleaning the house to picking wildflowers. Bridget shared her secrets and dreams, and Priscilla poured out her heart to her sibling. They cried together, laughed together, and even pulled pranks from time to time.
What she wouldn’t do to relive those days and cherish them. There were things she would do differently, if she could, especially when it came to the two lords who had toyed with her emotions before crushing her heart. Of course, the Earl of Hanover hadn’t hurt her as badly as Gavin had.
When she finished playing the piece, she felt the wetness on her cheek as a tear slid from her eye. She wiped it away, not realizing she had been crying.
“What worries you, my lovely Cilla?”
Gavin’s voice startled her, but in an odd sense, it also comforted her. He stood just inside the room, leaning against the wall. Concern was apparent in his expression. She refrained from running into his arms, knowing that would just be ridiculous. But he had mentioned yesterday of needing a friend to talk with. Perhaps it would be all right to share things with him as a friend.
