Perry stood in the open doorway with her hands clasped over her eyes. Her mother’s five dogs milled at her feet.
Cassin swore, breathing hard, and rested his forehead against her temple. She dropped her legs, and his hands slid away. He rolled off of her and lay beside her, panting at the canopy. Willow bit her lip and tried to steady her breath. Perry pivoted to run, but Willow called out to her. “Perry, wait!”
Cassin swore again, louder this time.
She sat up.“Perry, wait.”
The maid reappeared in the open doorway, her hands still clasped over her eyes. “Begging your pardon, my lady,” she said.
Willow slid from the bed and smoothed the shoulder and neckline of her gown. “You may open your eyes, Perry. It was unthinkably rude of us to . . . forget ourselves with the door open. But we are recovered now.” Cassin remained splayed across the bed with his arm over his eyes. She kicked his boot.
“But my lady,” said Perry, walking into the room with her eyes still covered. “What about the silk negligee? From France? With the silver lace and matching slippers?”
Cassin groaned softly.
“No, no, it’s the middle of the day, and the earl was just leaving, actually. You caught us in a good-bye kiss that happened to . . . tip over. I apologize.”
Carefully, Perry dropped her hands from her eyes. “I told you it was a real wedding,” she said.
“Never mind that,” Willow said in a rush. “I’ve made a mess of the trunk, I’m afraid. We’ll need a second one for these last things from my bedchamber. Will you ask Abbott to send a footman with another? There should be more in the attic.”
Perry was staring down into the pile of possessions heaped into the open trunk, shaking her head. “Yes, my lady.” She shooed the dogs into the corridor. “Should I close the door, my lady?”
“Yes,” Willow said in the same moment that Cassin said,“No.”
***
“Is that what this was?” Cassin asked, sitting up in the bed, dropping his head in his hands. “A good-bye kiss?” His body was so hard he was in physical pain. He gritted his teeth against the impulse to reach for her hand and pull her back to him.
“My attitude toward consummating the marriage has not changed, Cassin,” she said. “I cope with things I cannot have by separating myself from them entirely.”
“You considerthis”—he gestured to the bed—“to be separating yourself?”
Willow blushed. “I . . . I was carried away, but I did not intend to . . . that is . . . ” She cleared her throat. “Yes, it was a good-bye kiss. Ten minutes ago you were leaving Surrey within the hour. I’mfondof you, Cassin. Surely this is obvious to you.”
Something in the area of his heart shifted, a barricade held together by responsibility and fear. He knew he should interject, to stop her from saying things that he was not ready to reciprocate, but he could not. His gaze remained locked on her face. He waited like a prisoner awaits news of his parole.
She shrugged. “Every time you kiss me I grow, er,fonder. So there you have it. I deny us the consummation not to be tyrannical or prudish but to protect myself. We will have a business relationship until . . . well, until we do not have one. Whether that is because we have no relationship at all or whether you acknowledge some fondness for me remains to be seen.”
“Willow,” he said, “I am so blindinglyfondof you that I nearly took you on your girlhood bed with the bloody door open.”
“This is not my girlhood bed.”
“The bed is not the point,” he ground out. “The point is that I can easily concedefondnessfor you, Willow, it’s simply that . . . ”
He ran a hand through his hair and shoved off the bed to pace. He would tell her about his uncle, he thought. It was no explanation, but it was . . . something.
“I had a visit from my uncle when I was in town.” He stopped and stared at her. She stepped away from the trunk into the light of the window, and his body surged again to full possessive attention. He resumed pacing. “It is more important than ever that the guano expedition begin as soon as possible and succeed as spectacularly as possible.”
“But what did your uncle want?” she asked.
“I’ve no wish to trouble you with him, but I cannot leave the country without giving you some awareness. There is a very small chance that he may seek you out, try to make your acquaintance. God knows what he might do.”
“But surely he has no notion of me.”
Cassin made a scoffing noise. “God forbid. Still, he managed to extract the news that I planned to marry and also that I would depart the country almost immediately afterward. His questions were endless. ‘What of this fresh supply of money? How do you plan to provide for Caldera after her dowry runs out?’ If he turns up, cut him immediately, Willow. Can you do that?”
She nodded, her turquoise eyes huge, and Cassin’s heart clenched in the earnestness of that look. She had been correct, of course. She was always correct. She deserved to know what drove his decisions and how they affected her.
