“He’s not a bad man,” she said, almost apologetically.
Caleb stuck his hands in his pockets to stop from reaching out and touching her. “Perhaps not,” he agreed, “but he’s obviously pressing his suit with a woman who’s clearly not interested, though I have to wonder why that might be.” Now that the man was gone and no longer posed a threat to the misplaced possessiveness Caleb felt toward Miss Clemens, he was able to think more rationally. “Given your position, he could make an excellent match.”
“Cassandra and Emily would agree with you there.”
Schooling his features, Caleb forced himself to ask the next question. “So then why not take the chance to marry and start a family of your own?”
She shrugged. “Because I want more than a man who’s willing to support me.”
“What do you mean?”
“Simply that as handsome and kind as Mr. Townsend might be” –a surge of jealousy raked Caleb’s spine and he curled his fingers until he clenched his fists—“there’s no connection between us.”
Caleb’s heart thudded against his chest. “You don’t desire him,” he told her plainly. And then, knowing he shouldn’t but needing the reconfirmation, he quietly added, “The way you desire me.”
Her gasp stirred the air between them, and he instinctively dropped his gaze to her parted lips. This was madness. He ought to apologize and walk away, but since she did not move, neither did he. Instead, he watched her throat work as she swallowed, the truth in her eyes brightening her gaze as it locked with his and held in a fiery exchange of mutual need.
I want you.
He could practically hear her say it, could feel the charge those words evoked thrumming through his veins and heating his blood. “I want you too,” he murmured with brutal honesty, “but ruining you would be a crime, Miss Clemens, so I fear I must refrain.”
“I know,” she whispered. “It’s the worst kind of torture.”
Caleb smiled, pleased by her confession even if it did not offer either of them the solution they wanted. But to bed her would be a mistake unless they agreed to marry. A notion that seemed slightly premature considering their brief acquaintance. Not to mention the fact that she would never marry a peer.
“There is some comfort in knowing we feel the same way, I suppose.” Stepping closer, he nudged her arm in a playful way. “It’s better than the unrequited affection Mr. Townsend is suffering.”
A tiny smile pulled at her lips. “I suppose that’s true. I just…I wish…” Her hand caught the edge of his sleeve in a hopeless gesture.
“Me too. But no matter how much we want, getting married would be a bit hasty, don’t you think?”
She laughed at that. “Oh, indeed. You must forgive me, Mr. Crawford. I did not mean to suggest such a thing.”
He laughed as well and took a step back. “I should return to work so I can fix the remaining leaks in the roof before it rains.”
“Yes, of course,” she said, her voice slightly breathless. “The boys and I will stay here a while. They’re both quite eager to catch a trout.”
“You didn’t tell them there are no trout in this lake, did you?”
“No,” she said with a cheeky grin. “Should I have done?”
He shook his head. “As long as they’re happily occupied and having fun, I see no reason for it. And who knows? They might surprise you.” Adding a wink, he turned about and walked back to the house, strangely satisfied with the conversation they’d had even if it hadn’t solved anything between them. But at least they both knew where they stood with each other now. Whether or not they would act on their feelings in the future remained to be seen, but for now he would content himself with knowing Miss Clemens desired him as much as he desired her.
5
“Mr. Townsend cameto call when you were out,” Mary confessed to Emily and Cassandra while they enjoyed their afternoon tea together on the terrace. With shawls wrapped around their shoulders, the air was tolerable. They all knew the day would soon come when they would be forced back inside, so they chose to take advantage of what little dry weather remained.
The girls, dressed in smocks, sat at a smaller table nearby with their paints, while Peter and Eliot kicked a ball around on the grass. Overhead, the occasional banging reminded Mary of Mr. Crawford’s presence. Their conversation earlier in the day had been both unexpected and enlightening.I want you too. Another rush of heat assailed her as she recalled the sensual caress of his voice as he'd said it.
But he was right. For them to act on their mutual desire without her risking her reputation, they would have to form an attachment, and that meant marriage, which was something she'd promised herself she'd avoid.
Besides, how well did she really know Mr. Crawford? He'd been friends with Cassandra's brother since childhood and was still friends with him today, which ought to vouch for his character. For although she didn't know the viscount very well, having spoken to him on only a few occasions, Cassandra had nothing but praise for her older brother. And the lengths he'd gone to in order to ensure his sister's well-being when their parents wanted nothing to do with her was telling.
“Did he really?” Emily said in response to her comment.
“He even invited me for dinner next week so I can meet his sister,” Mary said. She took a sip of her tea and allowed its warmth to soothe her.
“Then his courtship of you is official,” Cassandra said.
