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Their eyes met, and it felt like he’d been struck by lightning. She smiled at him, and he knew: she cared about him, still. She had never stopped. Now came the tricky part—getting her alone so he could speak to her.
“Tell me all about your wedding,” the aunt was saying to Dinah. The two of them were settling down onto the settees.
“I was wondering,” Silas mused in a low voice, “if you’d be interested in seeing my family’s collection of art.”
She eyed him suspiciously. “Unaccompanied?”
“Yes,” he whispered. He had never been so nervous before, but the import of his private audience with her was extreme. Both of their futures hinged upon it. For if she told him that she would never want to see him again, he would leave her be. If that was what she truly wished, he would leave her alone. He didn’t think she would, however.
“Aunt Joan, Lord Thornbridge has offered to show me his family’s art,” Lucy said.
“Oh, Lucy!” Dinah gushed. “You must! I was telling Silas all about your work, just before you both arrived.” Lucy had shown Dinah her work the day before.
“Aunt Joan is quite done in from our walk,” Lucy said, giving Silas exactly what he had wanted. Which meant that she wanted it, as well. He felt a great welling up of joy.
“Indeed,” her aunt said. “I trust Lord Thornbridge will act as a gentleman ought.” She gave Silas a significant look, much like any parental figure would give any besotted gentleman.
Though I make no real promises to do so, he thought, recalling the day he’d pushed her niece to the trunk of a tree and kissed her, his hands roving over her body.
“Miss Wilds, I am honoured by your trust in me,” he said, bowing. “I will endeavour to deserve it.” It was the best he could do, given the circumstances.
He offered Lucy his arm. She placed her hand on it, and he led her from the room. His pulse was racing, and he wondered what to say to her. There was so much that he wanted to say, but he feared she would run from him.
He took her up to the room where he’d had the paintings from their London home stored while the renovations were being done. They were, for the most part, wrapped in sheets, to protect them.
“I had them brought here while the house is being repaired after the fire,” he said, pulling several of the sheets away so she could look at the work. “As you can see, we have quite a bit of baroque work.”
“It’s lovely,” she commented, her eyes drinking in the sight of them. She let go of his arm, to step closer. He stood, revelling in the sight of her, so long missed and wished for. She was studying a work of a forest. Sunlight streamed through the leaves, causing a small glade to almost glow with a heavenly aura.
At the centre was a young nymph, her pale hair loose over her shoulders. In her hands, she clutched a bunch of flowers, and she wore a loose dress that bared her shoulders.
“I love the painter’s use of colour,” Lucy murmured, referring to the luminous green of the foliage, the bright jewel tones of the flowers in the nymph’s hands and in her hair.
She turned to another—a Flemish work, depicting a bowl of fruit on a black background. “Oh! This is absolutely gorgeous.”
“We lost several pieces in the fire,” he lamented. “They were past the point of even restoration.”
She turned her gaze on him, studying him with her artist’s eyes. He was curious to know what she saw, and what she thought. “How are you faring, after your father’s passing?” she asked.
He swallowed the painful lump in his throat. His eyes teared and she blurred. “Not well,” he admitted. “It’s… so hard with him gone.” He missed his father. Even though they had disagreed with Silas’s life plans, there had been love and trust between them.
Lucy laid her hand on his arm, and he placed his hand over hers. There were so many things that he wanted to say to her. He felt far more comforted by her than he had felt by anyone else. Her presence was the balm that he had been missing, just as he had known it would be.
“Your sister expressed such pride over your recent change in character,” she said. “She says you’ve really done well in rising to the challenges that have been required of you.”
He smiled, thankful that his sister had spoken so highly of him in front of the one person whose good opinion he sought. As soon as everything was decided between them and announced to all, he would be sure to thank Dinah profusely.
“To be honest, my father’s death has caused me to think more seriously about all matters in life… including you.”
She tilted her head to the side curiously, her pink lips parting a little. He kept his hand over hers, where it still rested upon his arm. He was going to dare to take the jump, for he had everything to gain by speaking.
“Lucy, I think about you all of the time,” he admitted freely. “Over the past few months, I’ve wished that you were here with me.”
To his relief, she smiled, and it was like the sun was slipping in between the clouds, banishing them. “I’ve felt the same.”
He leaned in, pressing his lips to hers in a passionate kiss. It was clear that they had been aching for each other in the time they’d spent apart. His pulse thundered in his ears, and his skin tingled pleasantly as she responded to his kiss.
He rained kisses down on her, trailing them along her neck. She exhaled sharply, her moans soft against his ear. He lifted her onto the table, pressing up against her, and her arms wrapped around him, holding him to her. His lips found hers again as he drove his member against her inner thigh.
