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"Youneed to apologize to Puppy." She held the dog up.
"It?" He was enjoying the easy air still about her.
"Who else?" she returned. “I have not given him a name but you may call him Puppy.”
"I rather think it isyouwho deserves an apology," he said quietly, sitting beside her on the bench.
"I had a lot of time to think, Edwina. I should have allowed you a chance to explain yourself. I was not fair to you.”
She looked equal parts surprised and contrite. “You wish to know everything?”
“Yes, leave no detail out.”
She sucked in her breath. "I was going to be sent away to Cornwall by my stepmother and half-brother," she began solemnly, idly scratching Puppy between his ears, "to be governess to the wards of Lord Caraway."
Albert knew Lord Caraway and all about the old Earl’s sordid reputation. His treatment of the women that worked in his household was appalling, to say the least. Something bitter rose in his throat at the thought of Edwina working for the man.
"I had no prospects and they were very determined to be rid of me. The Winfield Masquerade was my last opportunity to get a match. I grew desperate and did what I had to." She plucked a leaf from Puppy’s fur.
"You should have told me this from the start, Edwina." He put his hand on her knee in a comforting gesture. “Why did you not tell me?”
He disliked her family even more now that he knew what they had almost done to her; dooming her to a life of service when she was the daughter of a peer. Puppy’s paw stuck out and attempted to push his hand away from her knee. They both smiled and he touched the dog’s paw. It did not react.
"It looks like you are becoming friends,” she said.
“I prefer friendship.”
“You would have run a thousand miles away from me had I told you that at the start," she answered his question.
"I probably would have ended up running right back." Albert snorted, then discovered that he truly meant it.
She gave him a wan smile. "You must know that I never intended for it to be you. I just wanted someone decent. I did not even know who you were."
“That was very bold and also very dangerous. What if you had captured a bad person? There are many horrible people in this world. The Earl of Caraway is one of them. You will not go to Cornwall. I promise I will never allow it.”
“I appreciate your concern,” she said softly.
“How did you know about Roxanne?” She began to chew nervously on her bottom lip as she sought to avoid his question. "Edwina?" he pressed her.
"Steven might have let something slip," she replied.
"God.” He shook his head. He was going to have Steven’s head for this. “Forgive me for lying to you. I sometimes act without thinking and this has led to many mistakes in my life. Forgive me, Edwina.”
“We are now on the same page,” she murmured. He could see the curiosity in her eyes but she did not ask. He did not tell her anymore because he was not ready. Not yet.
Yes, we are.” Perhaps one day, he would find the courage to accept the mistake he had made. Right now, he was not ready to look back.
Shifting closer, he wrapped an arm about her waist, pulling her to him. The sound of her breath catching encouraged him and he pressed his lips to the crook of her neck, his tongue darting out to taste her soft skin. If he could have her there, he would, but being slow and gentle was the best course of action. He did not wish to scare her away.
A moan escaped her and his lips began to trail upward until he was kissing her. When her fingers touched his cheek, he felt as though his skin was the only thing containing him. He knew, then, that he had to stop if he wanted to fulfill the purpose that had made him seek her out. Very slowly, he drew away, placing one last kiss on her lips.
“Mercer came to ask me for a special license,” he said.
“I did not realize you are the Archbishop,” she jested. “When?”
That made him laugh. “Before I came here.”
“Will you obtain one for him?”
