She raised an eyebrow, but then smiled and let him lead her through the trees. Truth be told, she was glad to get him alone for a while. She didn’t like the way the workmen looked at her, the speculation in their eyes whenever she came to watch him work. They probably thought the worst of her, and she wasn’t sure they were wrong because she’d committed all sorts of sins with this man in her thoughts and dreams.
They went farther than she expected, and he walked so swiftly she nearly had to run to keep up. By the time he finally slowed down, she had a hitch in her side.
“What do you think?” he asked, gesturing ahead.
In the thick branches of a towering oak sat a lovely wooden structure, with stained glass windows glinting in the dying light. “A treehouse?” she whispered, struck once again by his whimsical nature.
“Only the best accommodations for you, my lady,” he murmured, helping her up the ladder just as the skies opened up above them and the first raindrops hit her cheeks. “I built this a very long time ago. I’ve been meaning to check and see if it was still here ever since I got back, but it looks in fairly good shape, don’t you think?”
“It’s wonderful,” she agreed, stunned that he’d been the one to build it, for it looked as though it had been placed there by fairies. She’d thought she knew every inch of these woods, yet she’d somehow never noticed it. Not looking up enough, she supposed.
He scrambled up quickly, and she followed him in. The space was small, barely large enough for the both of them, but even as a boy, he’d apparently had an interest in architecture, and he’d built it snug. Though the wind and rain howled outside, they would remain warm and dry.
Spreading one of the blankets from the picnic basket over the floor, he sat down and patted the space beside him. “Sit down, angel. Let’s eat.”
Without hesitation, she sank down beside him, her heart fluttering a bit at the sweet nickname. “Won’t they be wondering where you’ve gone?”
He laughed and pulled out the sandwiches, biscuits, and jam, then a large jug of cold lemonade. “They’ll be taking cover as well. Besides, they don’t need me. I just like to have my nose in everything.”
“It’s good that you do,” she replied, accepting a sandwich from him gratefully. She’d been starving. “Most men in your position probably don’t oversee work like this.”
“Most men in my position are busy with much more important things,” he mused, and she sensed how conflicted he was. “As I should be. But I’ve juggled things and delegated, just so that I could be here for the beginning of this. It means a lot to me, you know.”
“I know,” she said softly, reaching over to squeeze his knee. She understood all the things he did not say, how much he wanted to have a home again. A place to bring his brothers and rebuild his family. She wanted that for him as well.
“Of course, it won’t be finished this summer. It will be years before it’s done. And I do need to return to London eventually...” He leaned back on his hands, staring out the colorful windows at the rain. “I know this peaceful interlude can’t last forever, but it would be nice if it did.”
He sounded so young, so lost. She blinked back a sudden rush of tears, also wishing that the summer didn’t have to end. The cold weather in the fall would bring a death knoll to the fantasy life they’d created.
They ate quietly after that, listening to the pounding rain and thunder. The storm showed no signs of letting up.
At last, she cleaned up the remains of the meal, shivering a bit as she took the other blanket out of the basket and then closed it up.
“Cold?” he asked.
“A bit,” she admitted.
“Come here,” he urged, taking the blanket and scooting back against the wall.
She settled next to him, and then he drew the blanket over them both before wrapping his arm around her and pulling her even closer. “Might as well get comfortable. We’re going to be here a while.”
Tentatively, she laid her head against his shoulder, warmth suffusing her, both from the heat of his body and the intimacy of being this close to him. She remembered the day they’d first met, when he’d pulled her beneath his cloak and sheltered her from the cold. “Thank you,” she whispered. “You’re always taking such good care of me, Luke.”
His fingertips brushed lightly over her hair. “I like taking care of you.”
His heart thudded beneath her ear, so quickly that she knew he was not unaffected by holding her in his arms. Casting about for ways to change the subject, she gestured to the treehouse. “I still can’t believe you made this.” The place had a feel of permanence, of quality, just like everything else about him.
“I didn’t do it all by myself,” he said, a smile in his voice. “The twins helped. This treehouse was our sanctuary. We spent so much time here... playing, arguing, plotting.”
“I wish I’d had siblings,” she admitted softly. “Mine was a very lonely childhood.”
“I love my brothers,” he told her. “I don’t know what I’d do without them. My mother... well, let’s just say she’s not the most nurturing woman. I don’t see much of my baby sister, Allison, given the strain on the relationship with my mother, and she’s so much younger I feel more like a father to her than a brother. But even with my brothers, I’ve always felt a bit left out. The bond between them, as twins, is something that I’ve never really understood or been able to be a part of.”
She wrapped her arms around his slim waist, getting even closer, thinking of her father and how long it had been now since she’d last seen him. She wished desperately that she had even the small number of people to count on in life that he did. “My mother died before I was ten. It’s only ever been just me and my father.”
He cupped her face in his hand, running his thumb over her jawline with feathery tenderness. “You have me now.”
“Yes,” she breathed, her gaze locked with his, seeing the truth of his words. “Now we have each other.”
