“To Derbyshire or London?”
“Either?” She shrugged.
“Only if you will it.”
Caroline gave him a smile. “I do not.” She drained her teacup. “Tell me of snails.” When he frowned and confusion passed over his face, she giggled. “Sails. Of sailing.”
“It’s a feeling of freedom as I’ve never known anywhere else on this earth.”
Freedom.He’d told her marriage would bring her the same, and thus far, it had.
As he talked, Caroline couldn’t tear her gaze from his mouth. What would another kiss from him feel like? Would it plunge her into panicked confusion again? Letting her cup fall to the grass, she grabbed her sketchbook, turned to a clean page, and quickly did a preliminary drawing of him, shirtless, as he lounged nearby. Is that what he looked like beneath his garments? Did she wish to know?
“Caroline?”
“Hmm?”
He touched her knee and she nearly jumped from her skin. “You haven’t heard a word I said, have you?” There was no censure in his voice, only amusement.
“No, but you can say it again. Listening like to you I do.”
That grin awakened butterflies in her lower belly. Why? No one had ever said being with a man could make her feel so… delightful. “May I hang my paintings in our cottage?”
“Of course. What is your favorite subject? I suspect once you catch sight of the sea, that will take priority.”
Heat swept through her cheeks. “You.” She showed him her sketchbook, had him look upon her recent drawing and then peer at others she’d done over the last month or so.
“What? Why?” He took the book from her, flipping through the pages as a red flush grew over his collar.
She concentrated on her next words. “You bring me calm. So, I sketch you. Sometimes paint those sketches. Cousin Andrew doesn’t like it.”
“Frankly, the earl doesn’t matter right now.” John scrambled to his feet. He stood a bit behind her and leaned near, intently studying her portrayal of the meadow’s landscape. “You do remarkable work, whether the subject is of me or not.”
A thrill went down her spine from his praise. All her life she’d wished her talent was acknowledged. “Thank you.” But his words, all too close to her ear, had shivers chasing through her body.
“Why do I feature into your work so often? We hadn’t seen each other since last Christmastide.”
Caroline shrugged. That was an easy question to answer. “My mind said to. Doing so makes me…” She tilted slightly to one side. “…less angry.”
“I understand.” He rested a big hand on her shoulder. “It’s why I enjoy riding or mucking out stables on occasion. Where your cousin might not wish to dirty his hands in hard labor, I find it helps to clear my mind and keep my emotions in check, so they don’t consume me.”
Yes, those feelings were consuming. “Like a storm,” she whispered. “Swirling constantly around me until I become it. And not me any longer.”
“It’s a delicate balance, surely. However, sooner or later we shall both need to look what ails us straight in the eyes and confront it. That’s the only way to release it, make room for better things.” A hint of annoyance wove through his tones. “Today is not that day, though.”
“No.” If she let the anger and other emotions have at her, would she come out alive on the other side? They’d had years to fester and grow. Who was she apart from them? Not having the answers, she sat for long moments while she finished the scone and stared unseeing at the water of the pond. John stood with her, kneading the knots from her shoulders, and his touch both threatened to drive her mad and alternately send her into a relaxed state. Finally, she sighed. “It is a hot day.”
“Indeed.” He moved, turned her about on the boulder until their eyes met and her skirting twisted beneath her. Wicked intent played in his expression. “Would you like to swim?”
Tendrils of panic fractured through her chest. “I haven’t done that since a child.”
One of his bushy eyebrows lifted. “You can now.”
“Don’t like water.”
“Why?”
“Forced my face at asylum into it. Happened just to see what would.”