Page 104 of Duke of Sapphire

Not duty. Then what?

He reached up and brushed a loose curl from her face. His fingers grazed her temple. She could feel the warmth of his skin against her cheek.

Charlotte went very still. Her heart beat hard.

He is touching me in full daylight. By a stream. With Tristan and Lavinia somewhere behind us. I should move.

“Henry,” she said quietly.

“Yes.”

“You are staring,” she managed.

“I am aware,” he answered.

Her lips parted. She could not seem to find a jest to deflect him.

The boys had darted a few yards away, chasing a dragonfly. Their laughter drifted across the grass. For a brief moment, the world narrowed to Henry’s arm, his hand at her face, and the small space between them.

He leaned closer.

Charlotte did not move. She felt the slight change in distance, the new weight of his presence. Her fingers tightened on his sleeve.

This is madness. We are married and yet this feels like stepping off a cliff. Please let it be real. Not duty. Not convenience. Something else.

His mouth brushed hers.

The kiss was almost nothing. A soft, careful touch. He seemed to pause, as if giving her a chance to pull away. She did not. Her eyes fell closed. The world tilted.

Heat swept through her in a wave.

Oh. So this is what it feels like when he stops guarding himself.

His hand at her waist tightened, drawing her a fraction nearer. Her free hand found the front of his coat, gripping there, because her knees did not feel entirely trustworthy.

“Charlotte!” Ian’s shout cut across the field.

She jerked back and Henry let her go at once. They stepped apart, not quite coordinated, the space between them suddenly wide and awkward.

Ian was waving a wooden sword. “Are ye seein’ this?” he cried. “The ducks are marchin’ like soldiers!”

“Yes,” Charlotte said. Her voice came out steadier than she felt. “I see them.”

James ran in circles around Ian, chanting something about the ducklings.

Henry adjusted his coat. “We should return to the blanket,” he said.

“Of course,” Charlotte replied.

Charlotte’s feet felt oddly uncertain on the grass, as if the ground were tilting even as she walked.

What is the matter with me?

CHAPTER 29

“Iliked James,” Ian announced. “He’s wee, but he can throw.”

Charlotte made herself smile. “He did very well.”