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Just as he was about to turn around and leave, he stopped, giving himself a shake.
Get the box to its home.
That was the goal.
Letting a little thing like witnessing an embarrassing scene alter him from that course was silly.
He turned to the pavilion and walked toward it.
Pausing by a column at the opening of the airy building, he watched Elle at the opposite side of the wide room that was lined with windows to cut the sea winds.
She stood with her back to him, her fingers entwined in the blue ribbon of her simple white bonnet she’d set on the ledge of a window. As she stared out at the distant sea through an open window, the breeze caught strands of her chestnut hair that had escaped from her chignon and made them dance. She had on a simple walking dress, light and airy, transparent white muslin layered over a deeper blue which made it look like she’d captured the movement of the sea on her body.
Hell, but he had to stop to look at her. She was beautiful, yes, but he’d never done that with any woman—never paused to gaze at them from afar. He was always too busy, moving onto the next moment in time. But with Elle…any stolen moment he’d had during the last few days to stop and inconspicuously watch her, he’d seized the opportunity.
Ridiculous. Out of character. Unnecessary whimsy that had no place in his life.
Yet he couldn’t quite stop the urge to still his body and just stare at her.
Couldn’t quite stop his imagination from sprinting away from him, from creating a scene where he was dragging her skirts up, trailing his fingers along the smooth creaminess of her skin, setting his lips to the small divot just above her collarbone.
Pure frivolity.
His jaw shifted to the side and he moved forward to stand next to her, looking out at the distant sea.
“Damn, but you are stealthy.” She didn’t look at him, her gaze riveted on the far-off waters. “I suppose you saw that, didn’t you?”
His gaze shifted to her, studying her profile. “Lord and Lady Wrestnut? Yes.”
“So you heard it as well.”
“Aye.”
Her chest lifted in a deep breath and she gave an almost imperceptible nod. “I know you think me a whore. This, Lord Lockford in Charminster.”
“Is that not what you portray?”
Her gaze finally shifted to him. “Whatever you think I am, Rune, you’re wrong.” Her hands went onto the stone edge of the window-sill and she looked out at the sea. “But I have stopped caring on what others think of me long ago.”
Rune crossed his arms, leaning his right shoulder on the cool stone wall beside the window as he studied her. “That’s why you willingly—without a fight—take the ire of some old bat who needs to blame you for her husband’s wandering eye instead of blaming her husband? Unless the woman is justified in her ire?”
She gave him a withering sidelong glance. “Lord Wrestnut is entertainment, nothing more. He has always made me laugh and he is a lovable bear of a man. But yes, he does have a wandering eye. He is also double my age. There has never been anything more than open-air, public conversations between us and there never will be. As for battling Lady Wrestnut, it is not worth the energy. Futile. No matter what I say, I cannot change the course of her mind, and I accept that.”
Rune shook his head. “Why have you not extracted yourself from this lifestyle?” He jabbed his thumb toward the pond. “From these people that give you nothing but agony? I saw you cringe when she yelled at you. For all that you claim not to care what others think, her words hit you hard.”
Her right hand flitted upward from the windowsill. “What would you rather have me do? Sit at home, wasting away until I am ash and bone? Do I not deserve smiles of friends? Laughter? I failed as a wife, yes, but why do I have to hide in a dark hole? My only sin has been becoming a widow at such a young age.”
He had to give her that. A man in her situation would be a lovable rake. Not the same barometer of expectation by far.
He nodded, but then his head tilted to the side. “So you don’t flit from man to man, happy for a moment until they displease you and then you fly off to the next?”
She turned fully toward him, her palm flying upward. “If I do, so what of it?”
“Nothing, I suppose.” Rune’s shoulder lifted. “Only it seems as though you’re searching. That is all. Or avoiding.”
“What could I possibly be avoiding?”
“Getting too close to anyone.”
