Page 51 of The Work of Art

“Even though ours isn’t a usual marriage?”

Arthur didn’t answer her. Instead, he removed his fingers from her hair and very gently stroked her cheek in an identical manner to how she was stroking his. “Your skin is softer than silk.” He drew his hand down the delicate line of her jaw to cup the edge of her face, his thumb grazing gently across the side of her mouth. “I’ve never felt anything like it.”

“I’ve never felt anything like you.”

He gave her a fleeting smile. “I should hope not.”

She smiled briefly in return as she mirrored his gentle touches with those of her own. She caressed the hard planes of his cheek, his stubble-roughened jaw, and even that sensitive part of his throat usually concealed behind an elegantly folded cravat.

He watched her face as she explored him, feeling a tremor of anticipation as she lightly touched the nape of his neck, unintentionally drawing him closer. “My God, but you’re lovely, Philly.”

Her eyes met his. “I think you very handsome, as well.”

His heart lurched in his chest. “Do you?” He made an effort to keep his tone light. “I had no idea. But then, I didn’t even suspect you were fond of me until you threatened to hold my hand.”

Her hand fell from his neck. “Please don’t laugh about that, Arthur.”

“I wouldn’t laugh. If I find any humor in the situation at all, it’s only in my own reaction.”

“You had no marked reaction.”

“Not outwardly, perhaps, but on the inside, I assure you, I was as anxious to hold your hand as an untried youth courting his first young lady.”

“I wish you were an untried youth.”

At Philly’s words, Arthur’s hand froze on her face. He stared down at her.

“I’m sorry,” she said in a rush. “I shouldn’t have said that. It’s just that…” A blush rose in her cheeks. “I think all of your previous ladies must have been terribly sophisticated. Every time I say or do something, I imagine you’re comparing me with them.”

Arthur didn’t know how to respond to such an admission. “Has this truly been worrying you?”

“I know I shouldn’t have said anything. It’s silly and foolish and—”

“I don’t compare you with anyone, Philly.”

She looked up at him, startled by his vehemence.

“Since the day I met you, I haven’t even thought of another woman. Indeed, I’ve been hard pressed to think of anything else at all.” He brushed a lock of hair from her face. “As for these ‘previous ladies’ you speak of, there haven’t been so many as you suppose. Besides which, it was all a very long time ago, and none of it worth remembering. I’m far more interested in the present. Here with you.”

He continued to stroke her face and her hair. Under such gentle ministration, the shyness and anxiety she’d exhibited only moments before faded away. It wasn’t long before she was once again touching him with as much tenderness as he touched her.

“What am I to do with you, Mrs. Heywood?” he asked quietly.

“Do with me?”

“I’ve vowed to you that ours will be a marriage in name only, but I find such a vow difficult to keep at present.”

“I don’t mind it.”

“You’re not thinking clearly, my sweet. You haven’t been thinking clearly since you came to me yesterday morning in the park. I’ve already taken advantage of you by marrying you so quickly. I won’t compound the damage by breaking my promise to you.”

“You haven’t taken advantage of me.”

“I proposed to you when you were desperate and upset. Had the circumstances been different—”

“My answer would have been the same. Truly, Arthur, I would have accepted you had you proposed to me the night of my uncle’s dinner party.”

He drew back from her. “What?”