Chapter 23

CHAPTER23

Nancy did not know what to make of the story Adam had told her. She had assumed there had been some conflict between father and son, and between his parents, but nothing could have prepared her for the truth. Indeed, it made her feel almost guilty for the lingering resentment she harbored toward her own father, for though he had caused her mother pain, at least there had been no violence.

He vowed never to be gloomy…

She dwelled on those words as she followed Adam out into the gardens, her nostrils filling with the heady aroma of slumbering herbs and flowers.

Is that why he has behaved the way he has all these years? Or was it the house itself, and the knowledge that if he were to marry, he would be expected to reside here?

“These are the kitchen gardens,” Adam explained, taking her by the hand and leading her to a small bench that rested beneath an apple tree. “I used to hide here when I was a child, stealing berries, learning the names of things, digging up carrots and radishes for my luncheon. There was not much in the way of happiness when I was a child, but this was bliss to me. And the cook would sometimes leave a slice of pie on the step, risking her employment and a beating to ensure I was not hungry.”

Nancy sat beside him and observed the darkness-shrouded garden, imagining how beautiful it would look in the daylight. There were white gravel pathways that cut between neat, rectangular raised beds filled to the brim with herbs and vegetables and berry bushes. Even in the dark, she could see the gleam of rounded tomatoes.

“Here.” Adam passed her one of the wine glasses. “Let us toast to your better health… and to my mother’s, I suppose. And to our marriage, such as it is.”

Nancy paused. “Such as it is?”

“What I mean is, I am… enjoying your company, far more than I thought I would,” he said, gazing out at the new life that grew upon the plants. “And I was… very worried when you became ill.”

“You were there beside me. I remember it.”

He dropped his chin to his chest. “I was, but I knew I was not capable of tending to you. I am notoriously clumsy. You would have slipped in the bath and drowned or choked on a mouthful of tea that I poured too quickly. It was better for Mrs. Holloway and your cousin to take care of you.”

“And it reminded you of your mother, I suppose,” Nancy said, prodding a little at the wound of his past, trying to learn more why he was the way he was.

He shrugged. “Perhaps. Or perhaps it reminded me too much of me.”

“Of you?”

“Tending to my injuries, being tended to… I told you, this manor does peculiar things to me when I am here for too long,” he replied, forcing a smile. “Goodness, there we go again, speaking of gloomy things. Let us drink, my darling. Let us toast to happier things.”

He clinked his glass against hers and, holding her gaze, sipped the deep red liquid. Nancy had never seen anything more tantalizing, wondering how on earth it was possible that the simple act of sipping a drink could make her stomach flip and her heart race, but there was a seductive slowness to the way he did it, as if he were kissing the rim of the glass.

She sipped her own wine, feeling the warmth trickle down her stomach, though it did nothing to calm the butterflies there.

As they drank in a comfortable sort of silence, Adam slipped his arm around the back of the bench, turning his body toward her. Her heart leaped into her throat as he casually took her glass from her and set it down on the ground, leaving his own beside it.

“Why did you have to be so beautiful?” he asked thickly, bringing his hand to her cheek, encouraging her to look at him. “No, that is not even the worst part. If you were merely beautiful, I could manage to ignore you and quieten any thoughts I might have of you. But you are… bewitching, Nancy. I catch glimpses of different sides of you every time we speak, and it leaves me ravenous to know more, to know every side of you, to know every part of you. And though you may scoff when I say this, I have never felt like this before.”

Nancy did scoff, but only to hide the pleasure that his words sparked. “Is this your usual seduction technique? Is this how you make them all fall hopelessly in love with you?”

“Not at all. I am much more direct.” He smiled tightly. “But do not speak of others, I beg of you. Allow me to pretend that I am not a scandalous rogue. Allow me to pretend that I am just your husband, enjoying the gardens with you in the middle of the night, where we can believe that we are the only two people in the world.”

Nancy wanted to tell him that he could just be her husband if he desired it, that he did not have to be a rake anymore, but something held her back—a fear that he might laugh or tease her for the suggestion. Indeed, even the arrogance of the suggestion made her cringe inside.

Who do I think I am, to change him so swiftly, if at all?

They had been married barely a week, and she had been in a feverish slumber for most of that.

It has all felt like a dream.

She gazed up into his blue eyes, the color of forget-me-nots. “Perhaps I could pretend to be just your wife for a moment,” she whispered, losing herself in those two gleaming pools.

Adam flinched as if she had struck him, though the bruise on his nose had faded to nothing more than a slight patch of yellow. “Do not tempt me,” he growled in the back of his throat. “I am… damaged, Nancy. I cannot be fixed. And I should hate to break you too.”

“There are very few things in this world that cannot be fixed,” she told him. “And I am stronger than I appear.”

He smiled. “I am aware.”

With a shaky breath, his throat bobbing, he brought his other hand to her face, cradling it. And though she knew she should pull away and should not allow herself to be drawn into the magic of him and those beautiful blue eyes, she was helpless to resist. In truth, she wanted to know what came next, just as she had skipped ahead to the next page in her fairytales and romance novels, jittering with anticipation.

“I should not,” he whispered, his lips a breath away from hers.

She did not agree, pressing her hand to his chest, feeling the quick thud of his heart. Surely, that could not be feigned? No one could make their heart race without due cause.

“And yet…”

His lips grazed hers in a tingling caress, soft and somehow powerful, the slow movement tugging on the strings of every muscle and nerve until her body felt as if it were being tightly wound like a spring. It was unlike anything she could have—and had—imagined, the reality far better than her daydreams.

Am I supposed to kiss him back?

Nancy tried it, emulating him. He smiled against her mouth and tilted his head, kissing her again, letting her grow accustomed to the rhythm of this new and thrilling dance.

And as she sank deeper into the kiss, learning the steps and discovering fresh delights in the slowness and quickness, the softness and eagerness, the surprise of how he might kiss her next, she let go of her fears and doubts and allowed the fantasy of what could be to take over. As long as they did not cease kissing, she would not have to consider the reality of their future. Just for that moment, they were husband and wife, the only two people in the world, just as he had said.

Like any lesson, whether it be dancing or singing or painting or arithmetic, the more she learned, the more confident she became. Soon enough, she was breathless in his embrace, kissing him with a ferocity that scared her as much as it thrilled her. She had never known what it meant to feel sweet abandon until that moment, guided by his expert lips and his tender touch. Even the brush of his fingertips against the bare skin of her neck was intoxicating, as powerful and potent as the press of his mouth against hers.

Truly, he isa sorcerer,for there is no other explanation for his talents.

“Are you certain you saw him in the gardens?” a loud, distinctly feminine voice complained, cutting through their blissful gasps.

Adam froze, his hand replacing his mouth on Nancy’s lips.

“I swear to you, this is where I saw him!” came Harry’s reply.

“If this is a trick to corner me alone, it shall not work,” the feminine voice taunted, laughing. “I have no interest in you.”

“I am not tricking you, nor am I lying. I am certain this is where I saw him,” Harry insisted, sounding somewhat disappointed.

Adam peered down into Nancy’s eyes and whispered, “Retire to your chambers. I shall contend with this.” He tilted his head toward the kitchen doors. “Go that way. No one will see you, but you must go now.”

“Who is that?” Nancy whispered back, her heart twisting.

“The lady I rebuffed,” he explained in earnest. “You must retire, now.”

Nancy considered holding her ground, but one look at her state of undress, and she realized she would only be mocked for wandering the gardens in nothing but her nightdress and housecoat.

“Is she… someone you know?”

Nancy had assumed that the ladies Harry brought were unfamiliar to her husband.

Adam winced. “An old acquaintance. No one of any importance whatsoever. Indeed, she is recently engaged and should not be here at all. I told her as much.”

“I see.”

Partially comforted by his words, Nancy got up and, glancing back, made her way to the kitchen door.

Indeed, she had only just made it inside when figures appeared in the kitchen gardens, and though she knew she should not, she left the door open a crack, peering out into the gloom. She wanted to see this “old acquaintance” of Adam’s.

“There you are!” the young lady crooned, running toward Adam as if he were more than an acquaintance. Reaching him, she flung her arms around him. “I thought Harry was lying, but you are right here. Now, what in heaven’s name are you doing? There is a party to be had, and you are the guest of honor.”

Adam took the woman’s hands and held her away from him. “I desired peace and quiet. If I had wanted to be found, I would have informed Harry of where I was going.”

“You are very pouty this evening,” the woman complained. “What is the matter with you, my dear fox? Have you tired of the chase already?”

“I am tired,” Adam replied firmly, holding her at arm’s length as she tried to wrestle him back into some kind of embrace.

But Nancy barely noticed, her mind fixated on those three words—my dear fox. The nickname Adam had asked her not to use.

I cannot bear this.

Turning on her heel, she ran, unwilling to witness a single minute more of that crushing encounter.

It seemed they could not pretend to just be a happy husband and wife, after all, for even though they were supposed to be on their honeymoon, away from other people, Adam’s past was determined to creep back in.