A kiss might wake her, but he couldn’t resist. He bent without touching her, just resting his lips gently against her temple, inhaling her floral and spice scent, hoping she would understand what last night—what she—meant to him.
Then he slipped from the cottage, pulled the door shut, and headed off to try.
Lucy stared at the scrap of paper. Then she crumpled it again. Then smoothed it out on her thigh and let out an irritated sigh.
She’d awoken happy. Stretching like a cat, warm and sated. And completely alone.
The quilt was still warm, but James was nowhere to be found. She’d even peeked her head outside to see if he’d taken an early morning wander. Only when she’d walked back in and closed the door did the crumpled bit of paper float to the floor in front of her.
You’re the most magnificent woman, and I’m not sure I deserve you.
But I want to try.
—J
It was like a riddle, and not a particularly good one. Lucy wasn’t sure she’d ever seen a collection of words that made less sense to her. The magnificent part was lovely, of course. He’d murmured as much to her last night.
The not-deserving-her part was absolute rubbish. She wasn’t even certain what it meant. Caring for someone had little to do with deserving and everything to do with one’s heart. James was kind, passionate, attentive—with the enormous exception of leaving her after they’d made love—and quite simply the man who made her heart leap in her chest. The only man who’d ever made her feel desired, wanted, adored.
I adore you.Those words echoed in her heart even now.
And yet he’d left her. Good grief, she wasn’t even sure what time it was. She’d planned to slip back into the house last night, unseen, but sleeping next to James had been too comforting. Too precious to give up. Because she’d known, despite her hopes and her determination, it might be the only opportunity she’d have to be with him in such a way.
In all their murmurings and confessions in the throes of lovemaking, there’d been no promises. No talk of tomorrow. Of today.
She had chosen this and known the consequences might be unpleasant. So, she’d face them, knowing she had one night of passion with a man that she loved. Those memories would be hers forever.
But she still grumbled to herself when she foldedthe scrap of paper and shoved it into the bodice of her gown after she’d dressed. After putting on her cloak, she shoveled ashes onto the embers still burning in the hearth and headed back toward the manor.
The morning breeze held the kind of bite that raced through you, and Lucy wasn’t wearing nearly enough layers. By the time she slipped inside the front door, her teeth were chattering, and she longed for nothing so much as a warm bath.
“Lucy.”
No warm bath would be imminent, apparently. Aunt Cassandra stood at the top of the stairs looking weary and worried, as if she’d been waiting there for hours for Lucy to come through the door.
Guilt joined the frustration of waking to find James gone, both chipping away at the bliss she’d felt last night as she fell asleep in his arms.
“Come up to my sitting room, please.”
Lucy yearned to have a moment to herself first, to change and bathe and put on something warmer, but though her aunt had addedpleaseto her request, it was far more command than petition.
“Yes, Aunt Cassandra.”
Those words allowed her aunt to sweep back down the hall, expecting Lucy to follow in her wake. When Lucy reached the top rung of the stairwell, her aunt was speaking quietly to Senga, who nodded and departed toward the servant’s stairs.
Inside her aunt’s sitting room, Lucy found the heat she craved. A lively fire crackled in the grate, and a tea service sat on a table between two rosevelvet chairs, steam puffing up from the lid of the teapot.
“Sit, my dear.”
Lucy chose the chair nearest the fire, and her aunt immediately moved behind her to settle a thick knitted blanket around her shoulders.
“Thank you.”
Aunt Cassandra sat and pulled a similar coverlet over her lap. She watched Lucy silently for so long that Lucy guessed she was expected to confess before any more would be said. But just as she prepared herself to do so and drew in a deep breath, her aunt spoke softly.
“I know you probably wish to wash and sleep.”
Despite her intention, Lucy blushed at that. Not out of shame but the clear implication that her aunt knew exactly where she’d been and what she’d done last night.
