A simple gesture, but one of nascent trust.
Trust he did not yet deserve but was determined to earn.
As they came into the clearing, his horse snorted his displeasure. If the horse only knew the high price his owner had paid in order to return to his mount, he’d think twice before tossing his mane!
Harbury checked the girths and straps, then turned back.
“Ready?”
She nodded.
He made a footstep by joining his hands and bending his knees.
She gazed at him skeptically, as if judging whether he’d lift her so energetically, he’d end up casting her straight over the horse.
“Don’t worry. I’ve had plenty of practice helping—” He caught himself just before sayingViv. “…My, ah, sister Sarah.” He forced himself to maintain his smile. “I won’t throw you, I promise.”
“Oh, no?” She smirked. “I’d have thought you would be keen to show off your strength.”
He was glad she’d missed his slip.
“You’re safe with me.” He swore to himself she would be.
She placed a hand on his shoulder and stepped into his threaded palms. He lifted her up with surprising ease, still he was glad for the exertion.
“I won’t expect more.” He looked up into her eyes. “Tonight, I mean. We have time.”
She studied him thoughtfully. “I appreciate your consideration. I, on the other hand, do have expectations. We’re married now. Your problems are mine. I expect you to include me in your concerns.”
Not an invitation to reopen the door between their chambers, but, perhaps, to something even more lasting. He’d believed himself in love with Viv, but Viv had never made a similar demand. In fact, she’d expected him to solve every problem they faced on his own.
Cassandra could become something he’d not known enough of the world to long for—a true ally. A lover, a friend, a companion and witness to his daily life. Someone, perhaps for the first time, on which he could fully rely.
Surprisingly, he found those possibilities infinitely better than a simple invitation to her bed.
Chapter Six
The next morning,Cassie awoke half afraid Harbury would hide himself away again out of embarrassment for having kissed her so wantonly and openly in the light of day. So, as she caught sight of her husband in his usual chair in the breakfast room, she breathed a sigh of profound relief. Then, she took a moment to appreciate the sight.
Sunlight from the window behind him dappled his brushed-to-a-sheen coat. Fingers of light accented his high cheekbones and cleft chin, while his nose shadowed his slightly puckered lips. She stared at his mouth, remembering how those lips had conjured sensations she hadn’t thought possible during the idyll they’d spent in the shelter of a crumbling spire.
She was almost certain he’d had amorous intentions when he’d taken her to such a charming, evocative place. She’d brought up the dream, but he’d initiated the kiss. He must have planned to do so, but she could be wrong.
He could have kissed her impetuously. Certainly, he’d shown a tendency to be rash before.
Almack’s, for instance.
But she’d also seen glimpses of a different side of him, of a character more deliberate than his earlier actions had suggested.
She hoped he’d intended romance, because, yesterday, he’d made her feel desired—cherished, even. Unlike on their wedding night, he’d romanced her for reasons beyond duty. And, for another mark in hisfavor, he had not spoiled the whole thing by immediately demanding marital rights. Best of all, his presence here this morning suggested their tentative connection had not broken in the hours they’d spent apart.
Perhaps they’d finally reached solid ground and could begin to build something lasting.
She lingered in the entryway, watching him read something he held just out of her view. Then, his posture went taut. His brows bunched as if he were concentrating, or maybe even straining. Taken together, his comportment suggested a sudden, interior apprehension. In fact, his concern became so apparent, so readable, he might have been a portrait by a Dutch artist of the golden age—Rembrandt or Vermeer—if not for his modern clothing and the brightly lit room.
He lifted his troubled gaze, and his expression transformed yet again, as if the mere sight of her had caused a rush of unanticipated pleasure.
Her own lips curled in a natural, reflexive response as her heart thumped low and slow in her chest.Ah, his smile. She could never blunt her ardent response. And when his eyes sparkled, as they were sparkling now, she was completely doomed.
