A few minutes later, she clung to his muscled arm as they ventured slowly into the shadowy gardens. King had been correct—the night was warm and the pervasive damp had lifted. The scent of him curled around her, and the heat emanating from his form was every bit as potent a temptation.
“I must beg your forgiveness for my absence last night,” he said, his voice smooth and calming.
“You need not,” she countered. “I am only sorry to have caused you such pain.”
“Think of it no longer. Let us leave our pasts where they belong, firmly mired.”
The moon was a sliver overhead, casting scarcely any illumination as she glanced up at him, trying to read his expression. She understood what he was indirectly telling her, that he would not broach the painful subject of his daughter again. Mayhap not ever. And although she yearned for her husband to open himself to her completely, she also understoodhe didn’t owe her his pain. His memories were his to claim, his to share or keep to himself. But Verity felt differently about her own. They danced at the edges of her mind, always out of reach.
“I understand,” she told him. “But for my own past, sometimes I cannot shake the wish that I could recall more of it. Our courtship, for instance. I have nothing more than bits and pieces of our time together at Riverdale Abbey—some lines of poetry, the hint of a recollection that may be real or just a figment of my imagination.”
“What else do you need to know?”
She thought as they moved deeper into the shadows. “When did we first dance together?”
“It was at a ball. You were astoundingly lovely, as always, and I risked your brother’s wrath by asking you for a dance.”
Verity smiled, even as she searched her mind for a hint of that first occasion. Regretfully, there was nothing. How frustrating it was to have naught in her mind in place of what she knew must have been an occasion most momentous.
“I suppose Everett must have been quite vexed with us.”
“He was not pleased by the prospect, no.”
“Why?” Verity snuck another glance up at her handsome husband, but the darkness kept his face from her. “He seems to believe that you would trifle with me, that your reputation should have been enough to warn me away. I should think he would be pleased instead that the two of us are happy and in love.”
“He is a stubborn man.”
They stopped near a fountain, the sound of the water trickling a pleasant distraction from the weightiness of her thoughts.
“He is indeed very tenacious,” she allowed fondly, for despite his reservations concerning her marriage to King, she loved Everett dearly.
“I am also woefully imperfect and undeserving of you, as he knew all too well,” King drawled as he took her into his arms, pulling her into the hard strength of his chest.
She settled there, resting her hands lightly on his shoulders, grateful for the solid feeling of him, so vital and alive. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she had come close to losing him. Not just last night, but at some point before. The troublesome sensation that she had been apart from him returned.
“Why undeserving?” she asked. “I beg to differ. You saved my life.”
“Anyone in my place would have done the same.”
“I doubt that.”
“Because you are an angel, always seeing the best in others. Me included.” He cupped her cheek, sending an answering quiver of delicious warmth through her.
“I’m hardly an angel.” She turned, kissing his palm.
All the upheaval of the past day, her fears over Emma, her upset at his refusal to unburden himself to her, her shock at his absence, ebbed as they stood together in the waning moonlight. There was nothing between them now. Not disapproving brothers, not the painful past, nor the uncertain future. Nothing but the two of them, Verity and King.
Her body was acutely aware of every move he made as he flattened his other hand on the small of her back, holding her to him.
“I am truly sorry for leaving last night,” he said softly.
“I am your wife now. You can come to me with your worldly cares. Don’t hide them from me.”
His thumb rubbed slowly over her lower lip, setting her heart pounding. “There is nowhere I would rather be than at your side.”
She closed her eyes, tilting her head back to receive his kiss. The first flitting of his mouth over hers was brief and light.Not nearly sufficient. She must have made a noise of frustration because he chuckled, the sound low and deep and seductively soft, like velvet pulled over bare skin.
“Patience, sweetness. We have all night and every night after.”
