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* * *
She moaned, her lips against his as she pulled away. “What are we going to do?” she asked, her eyes on his.
He pulled her close to him, and she leaned her cheek against his chest. She could hear his heart. He leaned his chin against her hair. She was tucked perfectly beneath his chin. She held him tightly.
“The wedding has been called off,” he said. “With the murder, I think it’s the right thing to do. Then, I’ll gently convince Lady Leah to call the whole thing off…permanently.”
He placed his fingers underneath her chin, raising it, so their eyes met. He wiped away the stray tear which was falling down her cheek.
He kissed her again, gently. She felt like she was being swept away by a strong river, her head barely remaining above the surface. It was intoxicating her to the point of not minding that she was going to drown in the depths of his affection.
When they pulled away, he laughed, glancing back toward Kirby Hall. “Where have you left poor Faith?”
“She was sleeping,” she admitted. “I saw it as an opportunity.”
“Poor Faith,” he said. She wove her fingers in with his. He led her over toward the tree, where they sat down in the shade.
She felt like an utter mess—she’d forgotten her bonnet, and her hair was falling in loose waves over her shoulders. He reached up, pushing it back behind her ear, the tip of his finger running over her cheek.
She looked at him, her skin tingling where he touched. He was looking at her with such love; it made her chest ache. She sat away from him to catch her breath. When he was near to her, she felt awash in desire.
“Do you—do you think you’d want to live all the way out here?” he asked her, softly.
“Of course,” she replied, looking at him in surprise. “Why wouldn’t I want to?”
“It’s so far from London,” he remarked. “We’re only there during the Season.”
She looked down at their clasped hands. She raised his to her lips, kissing it. “Of course,” she said.
“We’re so retired here,” he went on.
“Not at all,” she insisted. “There are so many good people out here—Lord Sandbourne, Lord Munro, my aunt and uncle.” She studied him, closely, as she wondered where his doubts were coming from. “Who brought this up to you?”
“Lady Leah,” he said. “Last night.”
“Only I know what’s good for me,” she replied. “My cousin does not.”
“Of course,” he said, softly. “You’re right.” His look was filled with such tenderness, that she was glad she’d come. She knew that she couldn’t stay long. If anyone found out—she didn’t know what she’d do. Nor how to begin to explain.
* * *
They sat for as long as they dared, enjoying the closeness that they would never have dared attempt in the presence of others. The time was stolen, precious. Jasper was in heaven, here with the most cherished of angels.
“I should be getting back to Kirby Hall,” she said, at last. He stood up, offering her his hand. She took it, and he helped her to her feet.
“I’ll accompany you there,” he offered. “You shouldn’t be out alone, after all.”
“If we walk out by the stables, I can pretend that I’m coming from there,” she suggested. “Just in case they’ve returned home.”
His heart was so full of joy. The impossible had happened—Lady Selina loved him in return. This was what he’d hoped for. Love. It was real. And it was worth waiting for. He should have known.
As they walked, she pulled the pins from her hair, shaking it out over her shoulders. She ran her fingers through it, to loosen some of the tangles which had formed during her mad dash toward him. He watched her, with her hair loose, her cheeks still rosy. He smiled as he looked at her.
“Yes, Your Grace?” she asked archly.
“You look like a nymph, out of a painting, My Lady.”
“I look absolutely uncivilized,” she replied decisively as she twisted her hair into a neat bun, pinning it up.
