Page 78

Julian, how can I not expect more from this marriage when you offer it so openly? How can I not respond when you court me with the very warmth I craved?

Their horses ambled side by side along the country road in open, companionable silence, filled with the creak of saddle leather and the soft thud of hooves against packed earth.

The road curved gradually northward as open fields gave way to scattered copses and then to a dense, familiar wood where the autumn canopy grew thick and shadowed. Ancient oaks towered overhead, their interlocking branches filtering the sunlight into gold and amber.

Adelaide pulled her mount to a stop at the tree line, gazing up at the dark, moss-draped trunks.

"This looks familiar."

Julian smiled softly, dismounting first and securing his reins to a low branch before approaching her stirrup.

"May I?"

She nodded. His hands settled at her waist, lifting her easily from the saddle and lowering her gently to the grass, his fingers lingering briefly before releasing her. Securing her mount, he offered his gloved hand.

"Come."

Taking his hand, he guided her along the forest paths, their footsteps muffled by fallen leaves. The air grew cooler, scented with damp earth and decaying wood.

They stopped before a weathered stone cairn, approximately two feet high, assembled with the careful effort of children.

Adelaide recognized it instantly, kneeling to run her fingers over the topmost stone. "I remember this. I was ten or eleven. My father had brought me to London for the Season, and you and Thomas took me exploring in these woods."

"You insisted on coming."

"I insisted on nothing; I simply followed you."

Julian chuckled. "You did both. You spotted us slipping out of the house and announced you were joining us."

They moved further along the path to a second, larger cairn whose stones were more carefully arranged.

"I recall this one as well," Adelaide noted. "You and Thomas were attempting to leave without me, and I caught you at the garden gate."

"You were impossible to shake."

"You were reluctant to let a girl tag along."

"I was terrified." Julian's mouth curved into a faint smile. "Taking responsibility for a young girl in dense woods meant severe trouble if anything happened to you. Your father would have had my head."

Adelaide laughed softly. "And yet you allowed me to join you anyway."

Julian looked at her. "I was a rebel at heart, Adelaide, and I could never resist the chance to show a girl an adventure."

His eyes held a gentle tenderness that reached back across decades.

Continuing along the path, they reached a third cairn marked by a small cross of twigs wedged between the top stones.

"This one." Adelaide touched the twig cross softly. "We marked this one so we could return at night to spot woodland creatures."

"We sat here for two hours in the dark and saw nothing but a single owl."

"We were convinced the entire forest would come alive."

"We were very young and very foolish."

"They shared a soft, easy laugh that carried no lingering grief.

A sharp gust of wind swept through the trees, making Adelaide shiver as she pulled her arms close.