Page 64 of The Gentlewoman Farmer

“This letter gave me some ideas.” His tone forced her to lock eyes with him. Philip waved her letter at her. His brow was raised, his head tilted. His face was teasing, but his eyes were serious.

She swallowed. “Are you mocking me, Mr. Eliot?”

“Let me just read this one part aloud.”

Sophia gasped, horrified to hear her words coming out of Philip’s mouth. “No!” But she couldn’t remove it from him, seated on her horse as she was.

It looked like he was scanning the letter and intended to proceed. “Let me see. Ah, here it is—my favorite part.” Philip read, “I’ve restrained my natural inclination to be close to you, to talk with you, to walk by your side, to hold your hand, to kiss your lips.” As he read, he walked closer to where she still sat on Clarissa.

Sophia closed her eyes in shame as he read her words back to her, turning her face away. Without the sight of his face distracting her, Sophia could sense Philip was not taunting her. He was questioning. But she didn’t know how to answer. Silence fell for a few moments.

“Did you mean that? Or was this a reaction to the end of your relationship with Mr. Burns?” His voice came quieter this time.

Sophia’s mouth went dry. He doubted her? Her chin fell to her chest. “I wrote it.” Her tone was more defensive than she intended.

“Clearly, I see your writing. I’m asking if you really feel this way.”

Sophia opened the bag she wore crossways over her body and pulled out the painting. She held it in front of Philip.

His eyes brightened. “Yes, you were very popular among the critics and met great acclaim. Thank you, my muse.” Philip bowed to her.

“I love it, Philip. Thank you.”

“Is that an answer?” His face closed, and he took a step back.

Sophia fumbled with her satchel and put away the painting, scrambling for the words that might draw him close again. She held out her hand, signifying for Philip to help her from the horse. He bypassed her hand, instead wrapping his arm around her waist. A thrill ran through her body, and she knew there was no going back. She had found her place. She slid from the horse and into Philip’s arms.

For a moment, his head bent toward hers, but when she did not speak, he backed away from her. The space felt cavernous.

“I suppose that’s all.” He sighed. “I leave tomorrow.” Philip glanced up the path toward the door, suggesting he would like to go inside. Sophia panicked. She couldn’t have this conversation end here. She had spent her nights lying awake, thinking of all she wished to say to him, but her words would not come. She put a hand on Clarissa for strength.

“I’ll take Clarissa to the stable.” Philip moved forward to take the reins and then began walking away.

She called out, “Philip!” He stopped, putting a hand on the horse’s neck as if to steady himself. He turned slowly.

“I—I didn’t want you to go. I don’t want you to go.” It was a statement, but her voice curled up as if to question her own determination. “I missed you every day for three years. I missed you every second of the past six weeks. Do not leave me, Philip. Don’t leave, ever.”

Philip’s head tilted back, and he laughed, a sound sweet and familiar to Sophia, one she recognized as true joy, and her insides danced with the same happiness.

“I never will. If that is what you wish, then we want the same thing.” He stepped toward her. “It is too hard to see you without touching you.” He slid his thumb down her jaw. “Too hard to be next to you without saying what I feel.”

They drew closer until Sophia’s skirts brushed Philip’s legs. His eyes were intense and exploring, still unsure.

“Yes,” she said. “I meant what I wrote. Yes, I want to hold your hand and kiss your lips.” His doubt cleared, replaced by a breathtaking expression of relief and resolve. One hand reached out to hers, and the other came around her, splaying across her back to bring her closer to him. Sophia nearly collapsed under the liquefying delight of his touch. Every thought and care deserted her. There was only Philip.

Agnes sat in the drawing room with Mary and Charlotte, which afforded a full view of the front garden. Mary was telling Charlotte all they had done in London when Charlotte looked out the window.

“Oh, hoohoo!” Agnes followed Charlotte’s gaze.

“Mary, come look.” Agnes waved her friend over even as she stepped up to the window for a better view.

Mary was beside her in an instant. “Oh.”

“Get away from the window!” Charlotte tugged their skirts from behind, but neither woman heeded.

“There is room for you,” Mary said.

Agnes opened her mouth to urge Charlotte to join them, but her breath vaporized in a gasp. Sophia and Philip embraced right there on the gravel walkway. Agnes put a heavy hand on Mary’s shoulder to support herself as the couple’s lips came together in a slow kiss. Another sharp inhale came from Charlotte when Sophia’s hand slowly slid up the back of Philip’s neck and into his hair.