His boots shined. A perfectly tailored coat hung beneath that cape. My prince.
I put a hand to his lapel and fingered the daisy he’d found and put in a buttonhole. “You took so long. Picking flowers?”
My nose wrinkled, though I loved the fresh scent of daisies almost as much as his tangy cologne.
“Well, they are your favorite.”
Like the gentleman he was, he bowed and kissed my hand. “Why is my wife so nervous?”
How could I explain my fears for him, for us? I bit my lip and closed my eyes for a moment. “You shared so much, last night.”
“Yes, we did, my love.” He brushed my mouth, handling me like a fine crystal goblet. The taste of him almost succeeded in distracting me, but this argument was too important.
“I wasn’t talking about that. The conspiracy with your uncle. I’m scared. I couldn’t wait. I had to see you. We’ve only been married five days.”
“And four glorious nights. This fortnight of eloping from London was the best time in my life. I have you, my queen, at last.”
He was back to kissing me again, smooth and gentle, each moment like a first, like a good last time.
His lips won. My fears disappeared. I stretched and wrapped my arms about his neck.
I’d never felt so much or so deeply. Every time he touched me, the more in love, the more in want, the more lost, I became.
“We haven’t started living our happily-ever-after. Only death shall part us, nothing else. I’ll always be yours, Ruth. Always.”
He pulled a sliced document from his pocket and stuffed it in the lining of my trunk. “But you are right. We’re not safe. The innkeeper’s upset is the beginning. He may alert someone. My cousin Nickie warned me that Uncle won’t be stopped this time.”
Adam put my hands in his. His skin was warm but his palms damp. “If anything happens to me, you need this piece of the registry. Take it to my father, Wycliff. He’ll take care of you.”
“Who?”
“It’s on the paper.”
“Adam, what’s this all about? Is that half our marriage registry?”
He stuffed my trunk into the carriage. “Yes. My half is already on the way to my father’s.”
“Something is wrong. Why would your cousin go against his own papa? That’s nonsensical.”
“I saved Nickie, Nicholas’s life. He almost drowned. We have an amiable relationship. Hopefully that will be enough.”
Adam examined me anew.
My wrinkled, misbuttoned dress made me tug at my shawl. I hid behind my folded arms.
“Ruth, my dearest, you didn’t wear a coat. It’s October. The slight wind has caused your shivers.”
That wasn’t it, but I’d already learned to lie. “Too much in a rush.” I said. “I didn’t bring one from home.”
He unlaced his cape and placed it about me.
The velvet shrouded me, splashing down like ebony ink. “Papa would approve of your fabric.”
He pulled the cape tighter about my shoulders. “The fabric king. Mr. Croome is one of the best in the trades.”
Adam’s sigh was hot on my cheek, the inch of my neck I offered.
“The night’s chill will make you ill. And I’ve upset you with my crazed talk.”
