Page 55 of A Match Made On Duchess Square

“I do sometimes.” She sighed. “I know I am being difficult about this.”

“Then why persist?”

“I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do,” he said with authority, for she had blurted the reason when drunk a few nights ago, revealing in that moment the feelings she had been trying to hide from him since they began working together.

She wanted to kiss him. Simple as that. Her exact words that had slipped in amid her rambling sentences were I long to kiss you.

Of course, this scared her because he was upsetting her orderly world. Her safe world. For this reason, she would never muster the courage to step forward and ask for that kiss while sober. She was so conflicted about liking him while betrothed to Andrew Clement, assuming that wretch was even still alive.

But Gwendolyn believed he was.

James thought she might be right, but not for any “sensing it in one’s heart” belief. A heart could not tell or feel someone’s passing, could they? Although a heart could yearn to regain something that was lost.

Gwendolyn was all about sentiment, but he had come to the same conclusion as she had through simple logic. The war records of an earl’s son did not suddenly disappear without causing a stir within the upper echelons of the War Office or Parliament. Nor would soldiers who had served alongside her betrothed suddenly forget he ever existed.

Being a father himself, he knew that no father would stay quiet when a son never returned upon the end of a war.

So, it was very likely her betrothed had been drawn into some clandestine assignment or something else that required him to lose his true identity…or he’d simply wished to lose himself and create a new identity.

“Bah,” he muttered softly, and shook off those thoughts. For all he knew or cared, the man could be drinking his way through the Continent.

He returned his attention to Gwendolyn as she stood beside him and had him yearning to make her presence in his life a permanent thing.

But how was he to go about it? Should he give her the kiss she had claimed to want?

Now seemed an opportune time.

He glanced up at the moon glowing silver against a dark sky. Weren’t moonlight kisses supposed to be magical?

Although it would be quite the disaster if Gwendolyn did not think so, for the feelings she readily revealed while drunk were certain to be suppressed while sober. He did not want her to panic and leave for London at first light. That would be the worst possible outcome. He would miss her terribly. His boys would be heartbroken.

Still, would there ever be a better time than now to share a kiss?

Grunting, he took a sip of his brandy. “Gwen…”

“Can you hear the whoosh of waves from your bedchamber?” she asked, her sultry voice breaking into his thoughts.

James nodded. “Yes. You will be able to hear them too. Just leave your windows open. There’s nothing better than the ebb and flow of those waves to rock you into a gentle sleep.”

“Listen, you can also hear the wind rustling through the leaves.” She remained silent a few moments longer. “This is why it feels so peaceful here. The wind, the water. The scent of salt mingling with the aroma of roses to sweeten the air.”

“My boys and I like it here. This is our sanctuary. Our little slice of heaven. Stay the entire summer, if you wish. Rob and Jordan love having you around.”

“And you? Do you love having me around?”

“Yes, Gwen. Very much. Surely my feelings are obvious.”

She emitted a ragged breath, but did not otherwise respond.

Then he heard her sniffle. “Are you crying?”

“Yes.” She wiped a tear or two off her cheeks. “Ignore me. I am just being a silly goose again.”

He placed an arm around her and gently drew her close enough that she could rest her head against his shoulder. “Tears are not silly. Why are you sad?”

“I dare not say.”