“And once his brother returned?”
“He remains in exile, though I might still seek retribution if I choose to do so. But since the matter is best forgotten, I have decided against such a course of action.”
And with that knowledge, and the rest of what he’d just told her, came the greatest amount of respect she’d ever had for another person. Thomas had risked scandal, sacrificing his own future and denying himself the revenge he no doubt longed to execute, all to protect his sister and nephew.
“The point is,” he added, and she felt his hand on her wrist this time, “I have spent the past five years telling myself I cannot marry, that I do not have room for a wife and that I must face my responsibilities alone. But perhaps I am wrong.” His fingers moved to her waist, and he was suddenly pulling her to him. “Perhaps Jeremy needs a mother.”
Her breath caught. “What are you saying?”
His other hand reached up to cup her chin, his thumb gently stroking along her jaw and producing a spark of tender warmth that slid all the way to her toes. “I have seen you with him, Amelia, and he has never looked so happy before, not to mention your genuine concern for children in general and your positive outlook on life. There is no doubt in my mind that Jeremy would benefit greatly from your continued presence and...” He fell silent, muttered an oath and finally said, “I am not proposing—at least not until we are both completely certain that marriage would work—but Iamtelling you what my intentions are.”
“And what exactly would they be?” she asked. Holding her breath, she waited for him to respond.
He blew out a breath. “I would like you to give me a chance to court you.”
Thrilled by the prospect, she would not ruin the moment by asking him how he felt about her. The fact that he trusted her with Jeremy’s care and upbringing was proof enough of his high regard. And perhaps... at least now there was more hope than there had been before that he might one day feel as deeply for her as she felt for him. The answer was simple. “When would you like to begin?”
“Right now.” His hand swept to the back of her head, and he was suddenly pulling her to him. His mouth met hers in a simple caress that almost brought tears to her eyes as a lifetime of yearning welled up inside her—the longing to be held and cared for so acute she could scarcely bear it.
Her arms went around his neck, and she pressed herself to him, arching against his chest for closer contact while his hand at her waist moved toward her back, flattening over her spine. “Amelia.” Her name whispering across her cheek as he kissed his way toward her neck left sizzling embers in its wake.
“Yes.” Her fingers tunneled through his hair. She would take advantage of this chance to touch him without apology. This was what she’d dreamed of, this casting aside of rules and strictures. His mouth pressed against the edge of her jaw, teeth scraping the tender skin in a predatory way that sent pleasure bursting through her. “Thomas...”
His mouth found hers once more, silencing her in an open offering, ridding her mind of all thought. She could only feel, his firm body pressing into her softness, his hands sliding over her in exquisite exploration, and his kiss... Deep. Hot. Demanding. It was unlike anything she’d ever experienced before—more primal than their previous one—an elemental claiming of sorts. And it threatened to drive her mad with unexpected need.
So she clung to his shoulders, fearing her legs might suddenly fail to carry her weight. It seemed entirely possible given the weakened state she was presently in, drugged by the taste and scent of the man she loved, unable to fathom how keenly he was ravishing her; as though she were some rich elixir he would never get enough of. It felt so wonderfully right, so utterly thrilling and perfect—a melding of souls so divine it threatened to make her weep.
And it was over much too soon for her liking, his voice sighing her name as he eased her back. She felt his breath against her face, heavy and rapid.
“Dear God,” he murmured, his lips caressing her cheek. “If you only knew what you do to me, Amelia.”
“I wager it can’t be much different than what you do to me,” she whispered, her voice casting a web across the darkness.
He held her still, and she felt his lips trail a path toward her neck and the rough vibrations of a growl in response to her words. Pulling her to him once more, he buried his face in the curve of her shoulder and carefully bit her flesh. She gasped in response, both surprised and allured by his primitive method of branding. And as heat rushed through her, straight from the point of contact and all the way down to her toes, she wished they were somewhere else—somewhere private.
If only...
As if sensing her concern, he drew back once more, this time with greater deliberation. “It is time for us to get back to the others before they become aware of our absence.”
All he’d offered was a courtship with the possibility of marriage. No guarantees until he was certain. To be found like this—to have his hand forced... She was suddenly eager for them to return to the others and ensure that all was well and that their absence had gone unnoticed.
So she followed him out from between the trees to the dimly lit walkway where the crowd still watched the Cascade. They’d made it back in time. She breathed a sigh of relief, which was swiftly snatched away at the sight of Lady Everly. She was bearing down on them with a disapproving glower that could have chilled an iceberg. The rest of their group followed in her wake, all with wide-eyed incredulity.
“What on earth were you two doing between those trees just now?” the dowager countess hissed, coming to a halt before them. Everyone else remained a respectable distance behind, except for Thomas’s mother, who wore a look of distinct disappointment.
“We—”
“Never mind,” Lady Everly snapped, silencing Thomas’s reply. “I do not want to know, but I expect you to call on me first thing in the morning, Your Grace.” She took a step toward him, her voice lowering even more. “And when you do, I suggest you have an offer in mind.”
“You need not worry,” Thomas told her crisply. He gave Amelia’s hand a quick squeeze before releasing it. “I have every intention of doing the honorable thing.”
Amelia’s heart crumpled. There was no warmth in his voice, no talk of his affection for her. In the blink of an eye she’d become an obligation rather than a choice. Pressing her lips together, she squared her shoulders and raised her chin. “I would like to leave now.” Away from all the censorious stares. Away from him.
They parted without pleasantries or smiles, and as Amelia sat silently in the carriage that would take her back to Huntley House, she felt sorrow’s heavy embrace, reminding her that she was doomed.
“What were you thinking?” Thomas’s mother asked when they entered their parlor later, breaking the silence that had accompanied them all the way home.
He ran his fingers through his hair. “I made a mistake, Mama.”
