ChapterTen
‘Ifeel like I’ve been given a stay of execution,’ said Dora, striding away from the cottage at great pace, taking the footpath to Grasmere.
Jacob hurried after her, feeling likewise. ‘Please forgive this morning. I couldn’t stop Arthur from coming. You would think he had better things to do but he’s got it into his head that my father’s dying wish is to see me settled.’
‘And I am not part of the settlement for you?’
‘Oddly, I think he is partially reconciled to the idea that we might be in business together.’
‘But not that we are– as we are? Oh, why does everyone want to get inside our bedroom?’
‘Not everyone, darling, just an annoying older brother who thinks he knows better.’ Jacob wished she would just marry him so that part of the matter could be dismissed, but it was too soon to press the matter. ‘He’s no puritan. If I were keeping you as my mistress, he would never raise the subject with me. He would merely expect me to keep you hidden away as he does his own amours.’
‘But if I’m parading around London with you unchaperoned and refusing to accept what is laughingly called your protection…?’
‘Then the ancestors are rolling in their tombs. He even used my father’s funeral to thrust eligible young ladies in my path. No doubt he did the same for my sister Felicity with male specimens. He is not subtle.’ Jacob looked back. They were out of sight of the cottage and the burden fell from his shoulders. ‘Dora?’
She turned and smiled enquiringly, her dark curls tickling her cheeks, neck and forehead in a way that made him want to trace each lock with his lips. ‘What?’
He held out his arms. She hurried to fill the empty space that he had in his centre. His arms closed around her.
‘Thank God for you,’ he whispered. ‘I kept thinking about you– what you would think of the funeral, my thoughts about my father, I even promised my godfather to introduce you.’
‘And I missed you so much. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.’ She squeezed him. God, she felt so good, smelled so wonderful, the perfume of her hair and skin…
‘Let’s not be parted again,’ he murmured, brushing her curls lovingly. They were so soft, her complexion sun-kissed and glowing, her eyes so full of humour. She made him feel like a sundial bathing in her sunshine. It was always Dora o’clock when he was with her.
She sighed, then ruined the romantic moment by snorting. ‘Sorry about Ruby.’
‘That was priceless– the viscount and the actress making toast together. She’s pregnant?’
He heard a muffled chuckle. ‘Well spotted, Dr Sandys.’
‘The father?’
‘Not in the picture.’
‘What’s her plan?’
‘To keep the child. She’s proved surprisingly maternal. I would’ve imagined she’d hand it to a foundling home, or find a childless couple to adopt it, but she is determined to be a good mother.’
‘I applaud her.’
‘Don’t get me wrong– so do I. It’s just that she’s surprised me.’
‘And she’s very brave. Perhaps we could set her up in a cottage near here when we go back to London?’
Dora leaned back in his arms, her brown eyes sparkling with amusement. ‘Ruby left in a village? We’d return to smoking ruins.’
‘You think she’d prefer London?’
‘I think she will be delighted if we make that suggestion.’
‘Good, let’s do so then.’ Ruby seemed low down on their list of problems, the crisis not being imminent. ‘Now to this business of the manuscript. What’s our next step?’ They began walking again, but this time hand in hand. The sun dappled the wooded path leading down the hill to Grasmere reminding him that they were supposed to be on holiday. ‘This is not the Lakeland excursion I planned for us.’
‘But isn’t it more us than demurely sketching scenes or taking tea at Bowness?’
He huffed a laugh. ‘True.’
