Yet she could not seem to keep from searching for him. Even now, moments after berating herself for breaking her silent promise, she felt her gaze drifting, looking for his lean form, his piercing eyes, the soft waves of his inky hair. Hair she had run her fingers through just last night.
In a flash it washed over her, the remembrance of his body moving over and in hers. Of his soul-searing kisses, of his strong hands, equally eager and gentle on her heated skin.
Of his near declaration of love, something that should have brought her joy and instead had broken her heart.
Flooded with memories, she ducked out a side door and hurried into the garden. There, among her mother’s roses, a place she typically found peace and strength, she tried to corral her emotions back into submission. But now that they had broken free, they would not easily let her go.
For the past weeks, without her realizing it, Quincy had effectively demolished her defenses. No, not demolished. He’d peeled them back with aching gentleness, layer by layer, until, last night, in his arms, she’d found a part of herself she had thought lost forever. The joyful, impulsive girl that she had subdued for responsibility’s sake after the death of her mother, that had rebelled in a quest for a life of her own when she was nearing womanhood. And that had thrown her into the deepest despair because she had been fool enough to follow her heart.
She had thought that part of her was the enemy, and had viciously subdued it in the years that followed. But Quincy had awakened it in her again. And she saw now she wasn’t whole without it. She wasn’t confined to what others needed from her. She had her own desires and joys, things she wanted above all others.
And she wanted to explore that part of her with Quincy. Not as a caregiver, but as an equal partner in life, walking at his side and shouldering the worries of the world with him.
Quincy cared for her and wanted to marry her. The man she had come to love with her whole heart, who could make her happier than she had ever dreamed possible, wanted to make a life with her.
For a single moment of weakness she imagined that life: falling asleep in his arms as a ship rocked them to sleep, reveling in the tug of sea air in her hair as they stood side by side peering out at the horizon, stepping foot in countries she had not even dared to dream of seeing with her own eyes. They would have days full of adventure and excitement; nights brimming with endless passion.
And after that, when a quiet life called to them, they would grow old together. Looking back on the adventures they’d shared and finding comfort in one another in their old age.
Her heart ached with the need for that life. She closed her eyes against the pull of it. But it beckoned, a temptation that was quickly undermining every excuse she had for refusing Quincy.
“Clara.”
She sucked in a sharp breath at that familiar voice, so close to her. Surely her imaginings had created him out of the ether. She squeezed her eyes closed even more tightly, longing washing over her in a wave, not wanting to break the magic of that moment.
And then a hand, gentle on her cheek. Her eyes flew open to find Quincy’s face hovering over hers.
He smiled and lowered his head. And she forgot why she should refuse.
His lips touched hers, gentle, hesitant. He was giving her the choice on allowing it to continue. Tears sprang to her eyes, his deep respect for her decisions clear. She longed to throw caution to the wind and melt into his embrace.
Instead she drew in a shuddering breath and gently pulled away.
With a sad smile he clasped his hands behind his back. “I suppose you’ve been keeping yourself busy and at the center of the chaos,” he said, his tone light.
The utter normalcy in his voice took her aback until she realized what he was doing. He was giving her time and allowing her to breathe. To make her decision on their future without pressure.
And here she had not thought it possible to love him more.
“Er, yes,” she stuttered. Clearing her throat, she tried again. “That is, it’s been a constant stream of guests arriving. Lenora and Phoebe cannot be expected to handle it all on their own.”
He gave an easy chuckle as they started down the gravel path and came into view of the front drive. Guests were descending from carriages and bags were being unloaded in a controlled kind of chaos. “I’m thinking Danesford will be bursting at the seams by nightfall. Lady Tesh will be so pleased. Well, one can hope at least.”
She laughed along with him, though inside her heart ached. Their masks were firmly in place, the lie trotted out for all to see.
Yet she couldn’t help but be aware of the wish deep inside that it was real.
Chapter 19
Dinner that night and the gathering in the drawing room after were lively times, the myriad guests providing the last necessary ingredient for the festive spirit that a wedding often brought. Especially one where the couple were so very much in love.
Clara smiled fondly at Phoebe, who was sitting beside one of Oswin’s shy cousins, gently drawing her into a quiet discussion. It was clear that Oswin’s family adored her. Even the irascible Lady Crabtree seemed to have a soft spot for her. And no wonder, for Phoebe was a veritable fairy of light and laughter, flitting from person to person, her natural enthusiasm and sweetness putting everyone at ease. She would do well in her new life.
“She got that from you, you know.”
Clara looked up at Aunt Olivia. She had been so focused on her sister she hadn’t heard the woman approach.
“What was that?”