Chapter Twenty-One

Unfortunately, the weather turned sour almost immediately and prevented David from showing his wife the estate with its rolling hills and lush trees, so over the next few days, he gave her a tour of the rooms. As expected, Elena loved the music room, but even more, she was impressed by the library, and he would find himself spending hours in there reading with her.

One afternoon, as the rain pounded the windows outside, they sat in the library together, and he felt that familiar warmth of domesticity take hold in his chest again. He looked up at his wife in his childhood home, reading with her spectacles perched on the edge of her nose, and finally asked the question he had meant to ask for ages.

"Elena, what do you dream?"

She peered over her book at him, adjusting her spectacles. "As in, what do I dream of when I sleep? Or what are my desires or wishes?"

"Both."

Elena seemed to deliberate momentarily, then said, "I do not remember my dreams."

"As in, you don't remember what you dream at night or what you wished for one day?"

"Both."

He raised an eyebrow. She sighed, running her finger down a page of the book. "When I was a girl, I know I had dreams, but I do not remember anymore. Having dreams has been a luxury that I could not afford. Not that I begrudge Irene the right to dream. I want her to have that." She closed her book and looked at him with a wistful smile. "Perhaps I should start to dream again." She gave a small sniff, then looked at him directly. "What do you dream, Husband?"

He glanced around the room, a space of happiness in his childhood, and had to admit that when he was younger, his dream was just to have his family and his old life back.

"Before the war, I just hoped that everything would work out, that I'd wake up and my father would be back, and all the responsibilities would take care of themselves. Then it was just to walk again. But now…" He shrugged casually. He couldn't tell her his dream now was that she would stay with him forever. That wouldn't be fair to her.

"Sophie said that you seemed like you had found purpose in your life as you had not before." Elena folded her hands and looked at him.

He thought about it for a moment. "You know, when I was younger, I felt so overwhelmed with responsibility, but now I welcome it. I'm ready now. I suppose I have several purposes." He held up his fingers to list what he was saying: "To be a good friend to the Round Table. To support my sister and my aunt. To make sure the business is profitable, that I am good to my tenants, and have people working for me that are good to my tenants. To look after you and ensure you know you are cared for all your days." He looked away as if saying the rest was painful. "If that is what you choose." He looked back at her. "Yes, I'd say all of those are my purpose."

"You forgot Goliath."

He held up his thumb. "To make sure that Goliath has enough choice slices of meat for the rest of his days."

"You forgot someone else."

"Oh?"

"Who is going to take care of you? You forgot yourself again."

As she spoke, she rose and walked over to where he was sitting, then began slowly unbuttoning his waistcoat, as he had foregone a coat and cravat or tie in his own library. She moved her way into his lap, delightfully lifting her skirts to straddle him. As she began to push back his braces, running her fingers down the intricate Berlin woolwork, she suddenly stopped as if an idea had struck her.

"Husband."

"Yes, Wife?" Blast, he could never hide the smile in his voice.

"You must know that you have rather a great deal of land."

"Yes, you often remind me that I am an indolent, land-owning aristocrat." She scrunched her nose adorably, so he quickly added, "As you should."

"As I should," she echoed.

She began to push his braces off his shoulders again. Her hands traced his shoulder blades as she did, sending chills up and down his spine. His body began to respond to her closeness.

"What would you think, Husband, if we were to build a hospital or clinic on some of that land? One of the maids told me there wasn't one for many miles. What of the cost?"

He pulled back to look at her. That pride in her capability and ingenuity swelled in his chest, but there was something else there, too. Hope. Hope that she was putting down roots and really choosing to be here with him.

"Don't worry about the cost. If it would benefit everyone, we can make it work. Is that your dream, Elena?"

"I don't know." She paused and adjusted her spectacles, but he saw that she was really giving herself a moment to think through her response. "I never thought to be a nurse or a healer. That was what my circumstance dictated. In truth, neither was what I could have imagined my life would be. But like you, I like to take care of people. I want them to be well. I want to see things like land put to good use. And maybe we could train other dogs to comfort soldiers in the hospital like Goliath. That might be getting ahead of myself." She bit her lip, which made David's blood heat further, but he tried to focus on what she was saying. "But I don't want to take away from Irene's dream, from her school."

"I don't think you would, my love." He cupped her face, skimming her dimples with his thumbs. She was so beautiful, so precious to him. He hoped this meant she wanted to stay. He didn't know what he would do if she did not. As a gentleman and a merchant, he was not used to patience in claiming what he wanted. But this would have to be her choice, her decision. "You would not need to be here all year. You could appoint some kind of administrator to run the hospital, and you can also help Irene or Mrs. Raeburn in London. Of course, I hope you still have some time for me amidst all this work."

"Yes, who else would remind you to stop and take care of yourself?"

They slowly grinned at each other, and he longingly wished she wasn't wearing such a high-necked gown that day. Why was women's fashion lowcut in the ballroom, but high necklines were popular at home? There were so many blasted buttons. Elena looked down at her gown as if reading his mind.

"I think you might be the only one undressing as we celebrate."

She removed her reading spectacles and, at the same time, began to pull the pins from her hair. As the golden-brown waves fell past her shoulders to her waist, his breath caught. This felt like a fantasy he did not even know that he had. He had thought their repertoire only extended to music rooms and bedchambers. How delightful to find a new fantasy in the library. She pulled his shirt over his head and began to nuzzle his neck. The chills up and down his spine began to spread to his entire body as she ran her hands down his torso. Then, she sat on the desk, skirts and petticoats still hiked up, and pulled him to stand.

"Celebrate?" He barely got the word out.

"Yes. A new hospital. Irene's school. Finding your purpose. Let's celebrate right here, on the desk."

"You naughty girl, I've corrupted you. Or perhaps you've corrupted me." As she pushed down his trousers, and they fell to the floor with a light thud, she ran her hands appreciatively down his back, then slowly over his buttocks, and he felt himself grow hard.

"Elena," he warned. "I can't wait."

"Patience, Husband, patience." Beginning at the center of his chest, she began to kiss her way down his body. "Some celebrations must be long and drawn out…"