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She crumbled a scone over her plate. “I have been happy enough.”
“But as you said when you chose your name, you should be as joyful as the Christmas bells, and when you are not, it’s a disservice to your future.”
For long moments, she remained quiet. Then she sighed. “Do you have a dream foryourfuture, Montague?”
Those special times when she used his given name helped to usher him closer to that slippery slope he’d tried to avoid the bulk of his adult life. “Twenty years ago, my dream would have been to enjoy a long career in the military, perhaps garner a few commendations. Ten years ago, that dream would have been to stay alive during the more daunting missions. Five years ago, when I was beset with loneliness and ennui, the dream was to perhaps take a mistress and continue to garner notice from the Crown and my superiors.”
“And now?” Another scone fell to her fingers as she crumbled it over her plate.
“Now?” He removed her plate and flashed her a grin. “I wish to channel the restlessness I feel in my soul, wish for acceptance.” A frown tugged at the corners of his mouth. “My oldest brother has offspring, so I visit when I can, for it’s fun being an uncle, but if I’m honest with myself, I also wish to marry, perhaps have a family of my own.”
Why the devil had he admitted to that? He hadn’t been aware of that dream himself, for until recently it hadn’t been in the forefront of his mind. Not until he’d met Belle. And suddenly he could see himself with her, perhaps sitting in a drawing room with two small children, both of which had the same wheat-blonde hair she did.
Bloody hell I’m in a bit of trouble.
“You will make a lovely husband and father.” Her voice broke on the last word. “Will you continue your attachment to the Home Office if that were to occur?”
“I honestly cannot say. It would depend on many things.” Yet if they sent him on dangerous missions, he might not make it back to see his family again. Or worse, enemies could snatch that family and even kill them in order make him do nefarious things. A chill shot down his spine. “Many things would need to change in my life, I think, but I would make them if I were in love. Above all, I’d want a woman worth her mettle, for I would have her longer than the children.”
Her expression softened, and for an instant, she seemed transformed, almost angelic. “Or if you wanted the dream more than the position?” Something unreadable passed through her eyes, but damn if he couldn’t figure out what.
“Perhaps.” Despite the fact they were in a public tea café, he reached across the table and took one of her hands. “What of you? Do you wish for a husband and family? Or would you be content with another title?” He didn’t know of her history before she married Ravenscroft, but all of that would come. They needn’t discuss everything all in one day.
“Whether or not a man has a title holds no bearing with me. I would be content with a pauper if I loved him.” A trace of tears filled her eyes. “But I have had a secret dream since I wed Laurence.” The delicate tendons in her throat worked with a hard swallow. “I have always wanted children. It simply wasn’t to be in our marriage, though.”
“I’m sorry.” The longer he sat there, the more he wanted to spirit her away to a remote location and have his wicked way with her until she began to increase, merely to see her smile, put joy into her eyes. Damn the consequences. “There is still much living left to do with you, Belle. Don’t give up on that dream yet.”
“I shall try.” She wiped at a tear that had fallen on her cheek. “Such hope is terrifying, though.”
“So is never reaching those dreams due to not chasing them,” he added softly with a squeeze to her fingers. If they weren’t in this damn café, he would have bundled her into his arms and held her until the sadness faded. “At the end of your life, make certain you have given everything your all so you can be satisfied that existence was fully lived.”
Perhaps he needed to follow his own advice. Before Christmas came, he needed to sort his confusing thoughts that all centered around this enchanting woman.
After strolling about the village and peering into shop windows at various wares for sale, Hawk stopped by his boarding house. He packed a valise and then he and Belle had walked back to the manor house. They entered by way of the kitchens, and immediately the warmth of the area seeped into his skin chilled by the wintertime air.
“Whatever Mrs. McGee is cooking for dinner tonight smells amazing.” The rich, beefy aroma of either a roast or a stew teased his nostrils and made his stomach rumble even though he’d had tea not an hour past.
“Somehow I think you have her wrapped around your little finger, just as you have every woman beneath this roof.” A giggle followed the announcement. “Whatever it is, I’m sure you’ll eat every morsel.”
“Of course I will.” He guided her through the room with a wink at one of the kitchen maids, who tittered and looked quickly away. On top of the door frame that led into the servants’ dining room, a bit of greenery caught his eye. “Ah, it seems your staff has entered into the spirit of the holiday.”
“What do you mean?” she asked with a frown.
“Look.” He pointed upward to where a sprig of mistletoe was tacked. “I wonder who is sweet on whom.”
Belle snickered. “Does it matter? I adore when people fall in love and wish whoever it is luck. I hope they’ve found happiness.”
“Why should they be the only ones?” With a quick glance about the corridor to make certain they were alone, Hawk dared much as he slipped an arm about her waist and pulled her into his embrace. At her squeak of surprise, he chuckled then pressed his lips to hers.
All too soon, he was lost in the wonder and softness of her mouth, in the warmth her body imparted, and when she curled a hand into the lapel of his greatcoat and kissed him back, his resistance to the feelings that had been creeping into his consciousness crumbled.
Damn, but he was a nodcock to let those emotions sneak up on him, but there was nothing for it. Yes, he wanted her in every conceivable way a man could want a woman, but he also wished their engagement were real, for she would be the ideal helpmeet—the perfect wife for him. With every day that passed, she proved herself quite the catch with her heart for compassion and her thirst for adventure.
Yet his mission wasn’t even close to being finished. He couldn’t very well postpone it in order to pursue her, especially not with the viscount sniffing about.
What the devil do I do now?
Chapter Twelve
