“Turn around if you want to find out,” he commanded.
Madeline quickly obeyed without hesitation. She turned her back to him. He reached for her shoulders, guiding her gently down the blanket. He knelt behind her and blindfolded her eyes with his handkerchief.
“W-what are you doing, Kenneth?” she asked.
“It is your turn to put your trust in me,” he replied. “I am going to put food on your tongue, and you will guess what each one is.”
Kenneth initiated a game?
Madeline nearly smiled into the blindfold. This was working. She had set out to make him feel happiness, and here he was—the emotionless man wanted to play. Perhaps the cracks in his walls were spreading faster than she had dared hope.
“I believe myself a good judge of flavor, Your Grace,” she replied. He snorted at that, and she could not help but chuckle. He was thinking of her tart. “You may be disappointed at how well I can guess each food.”
“We shall see, then,” he whispered.
Madeline heard him scrape a spoon on something. A glass? A jar? A moment later, his thumb rubbed her chin.
“Open up.”
She parted her lips eagerly. Her tongue met something tart and bursting with juicy flavor, waking her taste buds. She felt the textures in her mouth as she chewed slowly.
“Too easy, Kenneth. That is a fresh raspberry, dipped in French cream.”
“Correct,” he replied, not sounding disappointed at all. “Let us see if you can guess something more complex than that.”
Madeline heard him dig into something crisp. Perhaps it was one of the pastries. There were more than one of them, thanks to Cook’s enthusiasm for her planned picnic. The flavor was savory and rich, dipped in wine.
“Oh. I hope you have tried this yourself, Kenneth,” she raved. “It is Cook’s pigeon tartlets!”
“Ah, you are making it difficult for me,” Kenneth growled playfully.
“I may need much more improvement as a cook, but I love food,” she admitted. “Give me one more.”
Madeline realized that the blindness had become so comfortable because she had come to trust Kenneth.
There was a prolonged pause. Kenneth had become so quiet, and she did not hear him slicing through any of the treats. She wondered if he was not too happy about her winning the game, and was slowly leaving her behind.
“Open your mouth, Madeline,” he ordered softly.
She again obeyed, expecting one of the sweeter delicacies. Instead, she felt the slide of his lips against hers.
He had only kissed her once before, on their wedding night, and she had bitten him for it. This time, she kissed him back.
Soon, the kiss deepened. She let him kiss her more thoroughly, and she kissed him back just as fiercely. Sherry and honey burstonto her taste buds, and she moaned against his mouth. How was it that she was tasting what he had partaken, and yet it seemed like he was the one devouring her?
Madeline liked how Kenneth’s hand fisted in her hair as he continued with that same delicious rhythm. She did not know that kissing could be this earth-shattering. When he finally pulled away, she let out a gasp. Her hands were on his broad shoulders, clutching him tightly. She could not even remember reaching out for him.
“What was that, Madeline?” he asked, teasingly.
Madeline traced her swollen lip with her tongue, still tasting him. “Honey,” she breathed. “And sherry… and you.”
“Well done,” he praised, his hands sliding down the small of her back. He felt so hot against her skin. “You are right again.”
Madeline’s breath came in shallow bursts. Her senses were heightened even as she could not see, or maybe because of it. With the darkness, she could feel the heat of the sun and his palms on her. The scent of fresh grass filled her nostrils, and her body tingled from being close to him. She still remembered the dinner where she was served as dessert. It felt like they were building a relationship through taste.
This time, though, she did not want to eat or drink anything from the picnic basket. Not anymore.
She wanted him.
