“Surely that can’t be a good way to begin a marriage.”
Her laughter was a light and airy affair, bouncing through the interior of the coach and lifting his spirits. “I don’t know. Saw Isobel married last month.” She closed the notebook and returned it to the bench.
Good heavens, she was opening up to him, and that trust humbled the hell out of him. Though he wished to learn more, he refused to push her. “How did that make you feel?”
For long moments she stared at him before answering. “Annoyed? Sad? More angry?” A sigh escaped her. “Isobel is happy but frightened.”
“That’s understandable.” He didn’t know much of the new countess’ story aside from the fact she’d never wished to marry a man with a title, but when the doctor became an earl, her life had been upended. And there’d been some scandalbroth regarding a horse race. He disliked gossip so hadn’t paid attention.
Caroline huffed. “She is increasing.”
“Oh?” Now that was interesting. “Do you wish for babies of your own?” It was a valid question, and one he hoped didn’t send her back to withdrawing into herself.
She shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Fair enough.” Perhaps she’d long given up the hope of such dreams after the lonely life she’d led. “Do you, ah, like me as a man?” It was daring, those words, yet part of him had to know there might be hope for more in his future.
“Yes. You make me have feelings here.” She laid a hand over her belly. The frown that pulled the corners of her lips down shot fear into his veins. Had he angered her? Frightened her by merely introducing the subject? “Is that wrong?”
“No, of course not.” He needed to tread carefully with her. “There is no wrong way to feel. You are unique, so it stands to reason how you think and feel is unique as well, but it is good we have a connection.” How did her mind process things? Had she ever seen a doctor regarding her affliction? Despite his wish to remain confident, doubts crept in. Would he ever know a close, joyful marriage like Brand enjoyed?
“I like the tingles. They are special.” Caroline tucked an escaped tendril of hair behind her ear. “Do you wish for children, John?”
How he adored hearing her say his name. It was as if she caressed the word with her lips before releasing it into the air like the most fleeting of kisses. “Perhaps later, once things are settled.” He hated to be deliberately vague, but he refused to scare her so early in the relationship.
Confusion and curiosity warred for dominance in her expression. “Do you want to do the things men do to have children?” When a trace of fear flashed through her eyes, John’s budding hopes were dashed.
At least for the moment.
In all probability, with her spending the bulk of her life in that asylum, there had been no opportunity for her to talk with other ladies—family included—about the things women expected from life, let alone relationships between men and women. It was a large responsibility that rested on his shoulders, but for her, he would do anything. They would find their way with understanding.
But she expected an answer. “Possibly… only if you are comfortable with moving forward into such things.” He offered her a grin he hoped would bring comfort. “I won’t rush you. This union is as much yours as it is mine. It’s special to me. As are you.”
For long moments, Caroline watched him. What she searched for, he had no idea, but he hoped to bloody hell she found it. Finally, she nodded, her expression solemn. “Is there kissing in a marriage?”
Her naiveté was endearing, and he appreciated her all the more for it. At least the asylum hadn’t broken her curiosity completely. Interest flared in his chest as anticipation buzzed at the base of his spine. “Do you want there to be?”
She tilted her head slightly as she continued to regard him. “What feels like does it?”
Slowly, he was coming to know that when she was possessed of high emotion, her words had a greater tendency of being jumbled. It was a piece of the puzzle he could work with going forward. “Well, that is difficult to explain. Most people enjoy kissing. It makes them feel good… happy I guess you could say.” His wife was a riddle, a puzzle, a challenge that hadn’t revealed its full potential yet, and he looked forward to understanding her all the more. “Do you, ah, wish to try kissing, so you can see what it’s like for yourself?” She was intelligent, and perhaps she learned best by doing.
A faint blush stained her cheeks. “Yes. Cousin Andrew kisses Sarah all the time.”
“As a man should when he’s married.” Longing coiled within his chest, for he’d spent enough time in her company to know he carried attraction for her. No, Caroline wasn’t deficient in the mind; she merely needed instruction in a different manner than others. “We shall practice kissing once we are settled at Hadleigh Hall.”
“There is kissing in storybooks.” Her frown returned. “Why not now?”
Because I’m apparently a nodcock.And he hadn’t expected her to acquiesce so quickly. “Here?”
“Yes.” She shrugged. Nothing but honesty reflected on her face. “Here are our mouths.”
That tugged a grin from him. He rather liked her wit. “Fair point.” As he shoved a hand through his hair, it shook. Why the hell was he suddenly so nervous? He’d kissed and bedded women before, but never a wife—his wife—and never a woman as unique and fragile as Caroline.
“Will you?” Obviously, she wanted his answer posthaste.
“Yes.” Before she could change her mind, John moved to her bench, sitting between her and the sketchbook. The faint fragrance of violets teased his nose. Why had he never noticed that before? He grinned as she watched him with a certain wariness. “I won’t hurt you, Caroline.”
“I know.” But she didn’t relax either.