Chapter Twenty

CHAPTER TWENTY

H is wife looked rather stunning in the dappled sunlight that slipped through the window of the bookshop, highlighting the delicate blush at her cheek and ensuring he saw every fleck of gold in her eyes that he may have otherwise missed. A smile pulled at one corner of his lips as he made a mental note to himself to remedy that problem this evening. He would kiss every delicate inch of skin around her luminous gaze, ensuring to pay homage to whatever God had created the gorgeous creature before him. It would take hours, surely. He could not wait.

“What are you smiling about?” Phoebe asked in a hushed tone, her finger holding her place in the book she perused.

“You’re beautiful,” he said simply, the truth falling from his lips with ease.

She scowled at him. “You’re smiling because I’m beautiful?” She shook her head and returned her attention to the book she held. “You’re full of nonsense today.”

Harrison’s smile grew wider and he stepped closer to Phoebe, his chest brushing against her arm. Leaning down to whisper in her ear, he said, “I’m filled with you, not nonsense. Your smile, your scent. The way you scowl at the book as you read it. It’s left me overflowing with want of you, Phoebe. Greedy to soak up every sun-soaked inch of you, to gather every laugh that escapes your lips so that I might save them for a cloudy day. To return to our bed so that I may continue to hold you in my arms as you sleep, your breathing soft against my neck, your thigh wrapped around my hips.”

The blush on Phoebe’s cheeks darkened at his words. “We’re in a public space. Surely you shouldn’t talk to me like this. What if someone hears you?”

Harrison kissed her cheek, the sweet honeyed scent of her filling his senses. “They’ll no doubt be jealous that the phenomenal creature I whisper to is mine and mine alone.”

Stepping away from her, Harrison leaned his forearm against the bookcase beside them. “Is this the book of your choice, love, or shall we make our way to another aisle to peruse its offerings?”

Phoebe shook her head at him as she put the book she held back on the shelf. “I’ve already read this one. I just wanted to look at it again.”

Harrison picked the book up off the shelf and looked at the cover. The green leather and gold writing were smooth beneath his hand, the words Ivanhoe written in flowy script. “Do we have it at home?”

She shook her head, reaching for the book. “No. My parents have a copy at their country estate. I read it last summer at least a dozen times.”

“You must have enjoyed it.”

She nodded. “I did. I think that’s why it was so lovely to see it here on their shelves.”

With the nod of his head, Harrison removed the book from Phoebe’s hands. “Well then, we shall purchase it and have our very own copy as well.”

Phoebe reached for it but Harrison grabbed her hand, placing a soft kiss on her palm before resting it on his chest. “No arguing. It’s coming with us,” he said.

With a kiss on her cheek, Harrison took her hand and began to lead her down what remained of the aisle they were in. “Shall we head to the next row?” he asked.

“All right,” she said, smiling at him, her hand tightening in his.

At the end of their endeavor, which took two hours of perusing each book lining the shelves of the bookstore, Harrison carried a stack of four books in one hand while the other held tightly to Phoebe, leading her to the counter.

“Did you find everything you were looking for, my lord?” asked the saleswoman behind the counter as she rang up his purchases.

“I believe we did although I’m sure there was more we could have found,” Harrison said, smiling at the older woman. “My wife and I could have whiled away the day in here.”

The woman smiled at his comment. “If my lady is interested, we do have a backroom. The books there are in rather poor condition but we’re selling them for a farthing a piece, and I’ve seen some rather unique titles when I’ve looked myself.”

Harrison looked down at Phoebe whose eyes seemed to have brightened at the woman’s comment, and he laughed, nodding his head. “We’d love to look at the treasures you no doubt have.”

Phoebe put her hand on his forearm and looked at him. “As much as I’d love to spend the rest of the day here, I’m feeling a bit famished.”

Harrison felt his eyes widen. “Darling, you should have told me. Let’s get you some food before you waste away.”

Phoebe rolled her eyes at him before turning back to the saleswoman. “I’ll most certainly return another day to browse the back room. Thank you for thinking of it.”

The woman nodded. “Of course, my lady. I know the looks of someone who is as enthralled with literary works as myself.”

Pushing the books across the counter to them, the woman said. “Do you need help out with your purchases?”

Harrison smiled at her, tucking the books under one arm as he reached for Phoebe’s hand with the other. “Thank you, no. We’ve got it covered. We shall see you again soon.”

Looking at Phoebe, he winked at her. “Come, love, let’s get you something to eat.”

Outside the bookstore, Harrison handed the books to the waiting footman, then helped Phoebe inside the carriage before following behind her. The serene smile upon his wife’s lips was too much to resist. Taking the seat beside her, Harrison pulled his wife into his lap and kissed her. Her soft gasp was adorable and he could not resist letting his tongue trace the seam of her lips before she willingly parted them for him. His tongue dove inside the warm place, tanging with hers in a dance as old as time as his hands cupped her waist, caressing the expanse that was so rudely covered by fabric. Phoebe was soft in his arms, her fingers clutched in his hair to hold him close as she kissed him back with a fervor. The silly woman, as if he had any intention of leaving her side. He smiled as he changed the angle of his attack, his hands stroking their way along her spine.

A soft gurgle interrupted their kiss and Phoebe groaned as she pressed her face to his neck. “I’m sorry,” she said against his skin.

Harrison chuckled, the sound low in his throat as he lowered his head to her shoulder and kissed along the collar of her day dress. “My poor love. Don’t worry, I’ll feed you.”

Pulling back, Harrison slid his finger beneath her chin and lifted her head so her eyes met his. “What an unfortunate time to be hungry,” she said.

Kissing her forehead, then her cheek, Harrison rubbed his nose against hers, unable to wipe the smile away that seemed to have taken over his face. “We’ll get you fed and then continue what we were doing if you’d like? What are you hungry for?”

Phoebe shook her head. “Anything? Everything?”

“Everything it will be.”

Peeking out the carriage window, Harrison knocked on the roof. As the carriage slowed, he picked up Phoebe and set her down on the bench beside him before opening the door and jumping from the conveyance. A vender stood several paces away, the scent of the meat pies he was selling filling the air.

“I’ll take two of your best,” Harrison said, tossing a shilling at the vendor. The man handed him two meat pies, and Harrison nodded at him before heading back to the carriage.

Inside, he handed Phoebe one of the tasty treats. “Careful, love. It’s hot.”

Phoebe nodded as she broke off a piece of the crust and popped it in her mouth, her eyes closing, a noise of contentment escaping her body. Removing his handkerchief, Harrison opened the cloth and set it across Phoebe’s lap, ensuring that not a drop of the food fell onto her dress.

She ate the pie at an impressive pace, and, when it was finished, she brushed at her mouth before wiping her hands on the handkerchief. Harrison shook his head and handed her the second pie, taking the cloth from her hands, and shaking the excess crumbs outside the carriage window before placing it back over her lap. “Both are for you.”

She frowned at him. “Nonsense. I’m fine.”

Harrison merely shook his head at her. “Eat. We’ll be at Gunter’s soon but this should tide you over until then.”

“Harrison…”

Holding up a hand, Harrison watched Phoebe’s mouth snap closed. “You are hungry and I shall feed you.”

Phoebe huffed at his comment, but broke off a piece of the golden crust and placed it in her mouth, a small wiggle of excitement escaping from her body as she took a bite of the stuffed pie.

“Good?” he asked.

“So good,” she said.

“My chef at the estate in Dorset makes wonderful steak and kidney pies,” he said, smiling, and a brilliant idea lit up in his mind. “What do you say to going on a trip to see it? We never did get to have a honeymoon after all.”

Phoebe smiled. “A honeymoon in Dorset?”

“If you’re up for it. I have a home in Poole that is near the ocean and it’s fully staffed.”

“I don’t know,” she said. “What about Mildred? What about the bees?”

“We can ask Mr. Drake to care for the bees while we’re away. You can leave him very detailed instructions so nothing goes amiss.” He took the forgotten pie in her hands and set it on the seat across from them. “Sterns and Mrs. Beatley can care for Mildred, unless you’d like to bring her with us.”

“It would be such a long journey for a small kitten,” Phoebe said. “She’d hate it.”

“Why don’t you and I spend the next few days planning so that all is in order before we depart? I truly think you’d love the home in Dorset, but I want to make sure you’re comfortable before we go.”

Phoebe nodded, a soft smile on her lips. “All right. It really does sounds lovely.”

As they neared Berkeley Square, Harrison watched Phoebe decimate the second pie, nothing remaining but a few specks of crust. A pleased smile took over his face, so he looked out the window, certain that if she saw his enjoyment of her eating the food he had procured for her, she would have questions.

It was not that he had a thing for feeding women. It was that he had a thing for feeding Phoebe. He enjoyed watching her enthusiasm as she tried each dish and dessert. The excited wiggle that took over her as she ate something she truly enjoyed, as if the bliss she found in the item was too much for her to keep in. He would supply her in all of her favorite dishes for the rest of her life if it would guarantee that he would be allowed to witness her innocent display of pleasure.

Harrison chuckled.

“Are you laughing?” she asked.

Clearing his throat, Harrison looked at Phoebe and shook his head, unable to make the smile that sat on his face disappear. “Swallowed wrong.”

She gave a noise of disbelief before folding up the handkerchief on her lap and placing it into her reticule. “I’ll have Flora launder this and return it to you.”

“All right,” he said as the carriage slowed. “Do you know what you’d like from the shoppe?”

“A violet ice, please.”

Nodding, he opened the carriage door to flag down one of the waiters from Gunters who stood outside.

“A violet ice, a slice of whatever cake is available, and an elderflower ice,” he said to the young lad who pulled alongside his carriage.

“Right away, my lord,” the boy said, before scurrying across the street, dodging a black phaeton that had no inclination of slowing.

“I’m not eating all of that,” Phoebe said across the carriage from him.

“Eat however much you’d like from all of the treats and I’ll finish the rest. We’ll make it our goal to always leave empty plates.”

Her brow furrowed but Harrison suspected he could see one side of her mouth lifted as if fighting a smile. Moving across the carriage, Harrison sat next to Phoebe, taking her hand in his. “I’m your husband,” he said, kissing her knuckles. “It is my job to take care of you. To ensure you are never hungry, never without flowers for your bees, and never without your favorite books.”

“That wasn’t in the contract,” Phoebe said, her fingers curling around his.

“Perhaps we should renegotiate the contract. Or hang the whole thing,” he said, shrugging his shoulders, hoping the motion minimized the honesty of his words. The contract had been their outline, the rules that they had played by. With it gone, so to was the safety of the game.

Phoebe looked at him, her brow furrowed. “Without a contract what will our marriage look like?”

“It shall look however we want it to. One ball a month or even none at all. Evenings spent with your husband, card games optional, or quiet nights to yourself. All the bees and flowers you want, Mildred and any other animal companions you foresee yourself getting.” He placed the hand he held against his cheek, and sighed as the familiar honey scent filled his senses. “Whatever we’d like, Phoebe.”

“And what if there’s something we dislike? Or don’t agree on?”

“Then we talk it over. We’re good at talking with each other. How about,” he said, kissing her palm, “if you’re uncomfortable with scrapping the contract indefinitely, we just remove it for the rest of the day? We are simply Harrison and Phoebe, husband and wife, spending time together.”

Phoebe looked at him, her gray gaze examining every inch of his face as if searching for the right answer there. After a pause, a soft smile graced her lips and she nodded her head. “Harrison and Phoebe.”