He held her for a moment, nothing more than a few seconds to keep her from falling. Heaven was in that blink of time. “Cousin, we have to stop these unplanned caresses…while people are watching.”
Ruth shook her head. They walked on.
He steered her to the little area within a square of hedges, close to the house but private. He stopped at the stone bench he’d spied earlier. “How about we sit? Perhaps, if we are still, a dove might land on your birdbath.”
“Yes, to sitting, but I fear the party is too noisy for birds. You didn’t say why you trust me.”
He waited for her to sit, tucking her slippers beneath the hem of her beige gown. This dress was billowy and beige. The sleeves were long, almost balloons. So not Ruth, the color part or the style. She had been stylish, bold with gowns that had shown her fine figure.
It was almost as if she tried to hide. How do you hide a sun?
Smoothing his waistcoat, he plopped down beside her. “It’s quite simple. Adam trusted you with his life. He was a great judge of character. Thus, I trust you.”
Her cheeks warmed. A bronzy tint kissed her deeply honeyed skin. “It’s that simple for you?”
“Yes, that simple. Adam was a great reference.”
She relaxed more, but her posture remained straight and composed. Good baroness stock.
But he wasn’t composed, not on the inside.
His arms wanted to be about Ruth again. The feel of her, the scent of her—all was a torture for a man who was desperate for her. He forced his gaze to the birdbath and the deep pond in which it stood. The water was a little cloudy with slick water lilies floating on top. White dead nettles plants rimmed the pond with large shells, seashells. A few of the white heart-shaped petals stirred into the emerald broth. In the middle was a fragile-looking pedestal that supported a large bowl. The birdbath was formed from small indigo blue tiles.
“This is lovely, Mrs. Wilky. It’s peaceful here.”
“What peace? The party is quite loud. I still want to be in the house.” She lifted her palm. “May I have my lenses.”
“Only if you promise to hand them back if things overwhelm you.”
“What?”
“You were at Blaren House in the company of a stranger. You were poised and calm, especially after my lousy greeting.”
“I’m an expert at adapting. Ask my family.”
He reached in his pocket and produced her spectacles. “You’ve learned to survive. There’s strength in that.”
She slid them on and looked over her shoulder. “I do like it here. This is close to the house. I watch my son gather rocks. We skip them across the pond.”
“How will you handle new places when I escort you out?”
She scooted away from him. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“I need my cousin’s help. Blaren House will be completely redone, rejuvenated from top to bottom. I’d like your opinion on everything. Adam said you had great style and a way with color.”
“Stop. I only need you here to convince everyone of Adam’s existence. I’m not looking for anything more. I don’t need you gaining ideas.”
This courtship was becoming trickier by the second. She’d talked of wanting a friend, but now she retreated. Women and consistency, was this a fleeting notion?
Go slow, Wycliff, he told himself. He was in love with Ruth. She tolerated him for her own goals. Such were the inequities of his life, but rather shrewd on her part. “Fine. But may I ask your opinion on things upon occasion? Would you help me out a little, dear cousin?”
Ruth nodded but her focus was upon the pond. Perhaps she loved the stone birdbath. He could install one at Blaren House for her.
Rubbing her temples, she removed her spectacles, laying them between them on the bench. She stretched and picked up a rock from a small pile by the foot of the bench. A smooth, black basalt stone was in her palm. She skipped it across to the other side.
Her aim was perfect, a straight line close to the birdbath. She didn’t strike the pedestal.
“Nice aim or beginner’s luck?”
