Twenty-six

Gwendolyn

When I awoke the next morning, it felt like Christmas, though the holiday was still two weeks away. The anticipation of what Hunter planned for the day kept my spirits light and giddy.

"Good morning, Gwendolyn," he said the moment I entered the breakfast room. Hunter appeared sharply dressed and displayed his hallmark smile. He even provided a plate with my favorite foods on the table. Pulling my chair out for me, he took the seat next to mine, and I found how much I enjoyed these little routines we engaged in.

He reached for my hand. The touch, so natural, so tender, that I wished he'd never let go. "So, for my command," he brought my hand to his lips and whispered against my skin. "You must spend the day with me again."

Must? I wanted to chuckle at his word choice and wondered how that could be difficult.

"What I have planned will take most of today."

"Don't we have the Penington musicale tonight?"

"Yes, I promise we'll return in time to dress for it, but I wanted to make sure you were amenable to being gone for a good portion of the day first."

"We won't be around any ponds, will we?" I smirked. Truth be told, if it meant seeing Hunter emerge like he did that day, I wouldn't mind in the least.

Hunter snorted, the image much too vivid for the both of us. "Certainly not." Then he leaned forward ever so slightly. "I think you will be quite pleased with what I have planned."

I swallowed. I'm quite pleased now. "Very well." I took a breath. "How should I dress?"

"Wear your riding habit. I took the liberty of having your horse, Esmeralda, brought to our mews."

"You did?" My heart leaped. To go from riding her nearly every day to a lengthy absence was torture. Yet, once again, he surprised me and brought her without me having to ask. "Thank you."

He smiled and stood. "Now, I will leave you to finish your breakfast, for I have a few more preparations to make before our departure."

"What of the second command?" I asked before he left.

He winked. "That is for when we arrive at our destination." He bowed and disappeared.

When I met Hunter in the mews an hour later, he already had Esmeralda outfitted with a side-saddle, and his horse, Claymore, prepped and ready to go. A third horse appeared carrying Freddie, our footman and groom. I raised an inquisitive brow in Hunter's direction. "I do believe the nuptials have made it so I no longer need a chaperone in your presence," I said playfully.

He laughed out loud. "Freddie is bearing the supplies."

Upon closer inspection, I noticed several heavy-laden bags. It most likely would have been much easier to take a carriage, but it thrilled me to be riding with my husband for the first time.

I stepped over to the mounting block as he led Esmeralda to me. After a swift move upward, I adjusted my seat and secured the woolen skirts of my habit.

Within seconds, in his own simple fluid motion, Hunter was atop his mount. He appeared regal, as if this was such a natural place for him to be.

"Ready?" he asked. I nodded my agreement as we urged our horses into motion and trotted out to the alleyway. It seemed every time I watched Hunter do practically anything, I caught myself thinking of him in every way. Then I giggled to myself, pleased I found my husband so attractive.

We navigated the cobbled streets and headed toward the southeast part of London. When we reached the borough of Bexley after the nearly one-hour ride, I desired a rest. The limited sleep bled into my muscles, and I had grown a bit fatigued, though I would not have missed this for anything. For riding through London on a crisp, clear day rarely happened in December, and though the sun did not shine at full capacity, it attempted to break through the layers of clouds enough to brighten my countenance.

Hunter, who rode by my side, called for my attention and pointed across a grassy field and toward some crumbling ruins. "Not much farther. Just a short gallop across this."

I had never been here before, but Esmeralda happily broke out into a vigorous run. Hunter slowed his mount as we approached the ruins, and Esmeralda followed suit.

"Lesnes Abbey," he called as he stopped his horse and dismounted. "Nearly seven hundred years old."

Striding over to me, he raised his hands to help me dismount as if we had executed this a hundred times. Yet, the moment he reached through the opening of my cloak and gripped my waist to lower me down, I knew that we had not, for I would have never forgotten this stirring feeling.

Once on the ground, he took my hand and led me across the stone littered ground toward an arched entry—one of the few walls still upright. The silence that surrounded us accentuated the haunting beauty of the place. Other than the animals that occupied the wooded forest nearby, we were entirely alone… well, except for Freddie who remained with the horses and supplies, but in this moment, I nearly forgot him as well.

The stone fragments that constructed what appeared to have been a substantial room, presumably a chapel, had been invaded by an overabundance of new growth. Seedlings that had likely blown in through the missing roof took up residence within and spread out before us. Though mostly barren, the sight rendered a staggering feeling of awe to see the new life tangled amongst the old.

"This is beautiful," I whispered.

He turned toward me and rewarded me with one of his heart stopping smiles. "I thought you might like it."

He led me over to a short stone wall that had most likely been a great pinnacle at one time and now crumbled to the height of a bench.

"Wait here," he squeezed my hand. The excitement in his eyes resembled a child playing Blind Man's Bluff. He hustled back the way we had just come.

As I waited for his return, I soaked up the serenity of the site and marveled. I had not felt this calm in… I truly could not recall a time I felt so at peace, and it was all because of Hunter. How could that be? I wondered.

Birds flew from sapling to sapling and their soothing whistles allowed me to close my eyes and envision a painting. If only I had the foresight, I would love nothing more than to paint here. I would have to encourage Hunter to bring me back. Then I envisioned many visits, some with a picnic basket, others with just him. A perfect place to… I opened my eyes with a start and realized I had just fantasized about my husband in ways a well-bred woman shouldn't. Then I smiled.

"There is that devilish look again, love."

Hunter appeared before me and I blushed. I rarely blushed, but it seemed to have become a common occurrence since my wedding.

When I finally pulled my eyes from his handsome face, I recognized he carried the very items I longed for, aside from him—my paint supplies.

In one hand, he held my still folded traveling easel, in the other a small canvas. Freddie appeared behind him carrying my tin of paints, brushes, and the frock I used to cover my dresses.

A subtle gasp escaped my lips. "How did you know?"

He tilted his head. "Know what?"

"That I wished to paint here. I only just thought it myself."

He chuckled. "I have heard of this strange phenomenon where married people begin to think alike."

I laughed. "I don't believe it happens in six days."

"No?" He winked again, and my heart thumped again . "So, since you are so willing to paint, I can keep my command for another time."

I hopped off the wall and approached with a smile. Touching both his sleeves in a light grasp, I leaned in and whispered in his ear, letting my lips brush his skin. With a breathy voice, I said, "You, sir, have earned unlimited commands."

He froze under my touch. Had I said something too soon, too bold? When I leaned back, I saw his arched brow and half smile. No, I think he took the news quite well. I let him simmer on that thought for a moment and reached for the easel in his hands, connecting the pieces until it stood upright. Hunter finally moved and joined me, though he remained silent. Placing the canvas on the easel, he waved Freddie over.

He placed my paints on the stone wall and Hunter asked him to wait with the horses once more. We were alone again. But now I felt a strong desire to paint. Staring at the beauty before me, I hesitated. It had been ages since I sketched without one of Julia's poems before me.

Hunter stood beside me and reached into his coat pocket. "I received this from Julia a few days ago, after requesting her help."

I stared at the folded parchment, then stared back at him. Handing me the paper, he apologized. "I know from my mother that inspiration cannot be forced upon an artist, so if this poem does not speak to your heart here, don't feel like you have to do anything but just take in the beauty of this place."

I unfolded and read her poem. Though I knew from her handwriting it was indeed her words on the page, I felt my cheeks slowly ignite with each line.

Hunter

My heart aflame lit by your radiant eyes,

With you my spirit to the heavens does rise.

My soul burns with a passion that will never wane,

In your sweet embrace I find joy beyond pain.

The gods themselves would envy this love,

Sent from Venus, a divine blessing from above.

Each whispered word a treasure I hold,

Our hearts entwined a story yet told.

With every kiss my heart doth sway,

With every breath, your love convey.

A bond that strengthens, a love that's mine,

Forever and always, my heart is thine.

Oh. A love poem? My cheeks were certainly on fire beneath Hunter's stare. Had he read this? Was he reading it over my shoulder? I dared not glance in his direction. Julia, that tease, most certainly did this on purpose if Hunter asked her for a poem.

"Is everything agreeable?"

I met his eyes and quickly refolded the parchment. His face appeared completely unchanged. Mine felt like it wanted to combust. "Y—yes, thank you. This will do."

Hunter smiled and retrieved the book he'd been reading from his greatcoat pocket. Wandering a short distance away, he settled on some stone steps and immediately appeared engaged in the text.

I fanned my face with the folded poem.

Though it would not be a stretch to paint a love poem here in this devastatingly beautiful place, I had not expected my body to react so fiercely to such intimate words. Nevertheless, I could not help but hope that one day I would be here, lying in his arms reflecting on this very moment and laughing over it.