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“It was a troubled marriage, in all aspects,” she explained quietly, staring down the hill at Emmeline. Not because she was worried about the little girl playing by herself, he knew, but because she didn’t want her voice to carry on the breeze and risk Emmeline overhearing. “Our parents wanted the match, and we had grown up as fond acquaintances. But we never really loved each other beyond friendship.” She brought his hand into her lap and focused her attention on it, tracing a fingertip over the lines of his palm. “When I failed to give him a son and heir, it stopped being even that. By the end, it was nearly unbearable.”
“You said he had a temper.” Acid covered his tongue as he dared to ask, “Did he strike you and Emmeline?”
“Never.” Then more softly, her shoulders sinking, “There are other ways to hurt people.”
He reached out to tuck a stray strand of blonde hair behind her ear. “Nora, please believe that—”
“And you?” The falsely bright smile she flashed at him belied the pain he felt churning inside her. He wanted to dissolve away that pain for her forever. “Why are you not married with a dozen or so children running around?”
He laughed at the idea. “A dozen?”
“Or so.”
“God forbid!” Yet he answered, perhaps a bit too honestly, “Who would want to marry me, a curmudgeonly businessman who hates parties, soirees, the entire London season—everything unmarried women love? Or so I’ve been told.” Repeatedly. By every other woman he’d ever called on…until Nora and Emmeline entered his life. “Besides, I have Brutus to keep me company.”
She slid her gaze down the hill to the hound and frowned. “What kind of dog is he, exactly?”
“Part poodle, part retriever, part…something.” He shrugged a shoulder. “A mongrel like me.”
“You’re not at all like that. And I don’t think you’re curmudgeonly either. You’re an incredibly fine man.” She paused, her lips parting thoughtfully as she turned her head to study him. “You remind me of…”
Please God, don’t say your husband!
“Of a dessert my family’s French cook used to make when I was a little girl.”
He blinked, surprised, then grimaced “Thank you.”
“A caramelized custard she called burnt cream. Crusty on the outside—”
“Thank you,” he repeated dryly.
She gave a lilting laugh that hung on the air like music. Then her smile faded as she lifted her hand to brush at the short hair at his temple, her touch strangely both comforting and arousing.
“Yet soft and sweet on the inside.” She breathed out as she caressed his cheek, her eyes falling to his mouth, “One that always left me craving more.” She smiled a bit sadly. “Even though I knew it wasn’t good for me.”
Before he could argue, she leaned forward and kissed him.
He inhaled sharply at the sweet torture of her kiss, at the softness of her lips teasing lightly against his and the lavender scent of her that filled his senses. She melted beneath him with a sigh, and herhand on his cheek slipped down to rest on his chest where he was certain she could feel his pounding heartbeat.
“Nora,” he murmured achingly against her lips. Like her, he craved more than just this small kiss, but that was all they could share with Emmeline playing nearby. “I can be good for you.” He took her bottom lip between his and gently sucked, feeling her quiver with growing desire. “And for Emmeline.”
He rested his hand on her calf. The gesture was far too possessive, but he couldn’t help himself and gently played his fingers over the smooth stocking that covered her ankle as it peeked out from beneath her skirt. From the field below, Emmeline was too far away to see and too wrapped up in giving Brutus a crown of daisies to care what they were doing. Yet frustration hammered inside him that he couldn’t take Nora into his arms and kiss her the way he wanted to, open-mouthed and hungry, until she trembled against him and surrendered, not just to his embrace but to the future he wanted to give her.
An undeniable spark flared between them, and she curled her fingers into his waistcoat, acknowledging it. But at the same time that she welcomed his kiss, he could taste on her lips…sadness.
Breaking the kiss, he pulled back just far enough to search her bright eyes for answers. “Nora?” He cupped her face in his palm. “What’s wrong?”
She shook her head. “I don’t—I don’t want to talk about it. Not now.” She touched her lips to his to distract him. “Right now, I just want to kiss you.”
Unable to resist, he let her. More, he traced the tip of his tongue against the seam of her lips, silently cajoling her to allow him inside to taste all of the sweetness within. She sighed and parted her lips—
A golden blur of fur hit him hard in the side and propelled him onto his back on the blanket, then jumped on top of him. A wet, cold nose stuck itself inside his jacket where Nora’s hand had rested only moments before, then sniffed hard to seek out the treats he kept there.
“Damnation, Brutus!” Mason shoved the mutt away, but Nora had already climbed to her feet, her face blushing in embarrassment that she’d dared to kiss him even as she took one last heated glance at him. Then she called for Emmeline and hurried away.
Their picnic was over.
“You have rotten timing.” Mason glared at the dog. “When the highwaymen stop us, you’ll be the first thing I hand over.”
Brutus flopped onto his back and kicked all four paws into the air, begging to have his belly scratched.
