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With great care he lowered himself to the ground beside her. He was achingly aware of her proximity, his body holding a physical knowledge of her now that had been lacking before. But though he wanted more than anything to touch her, he held himself apart. She looked as if she would shatter if he moved wrong. He cursed himself ten times a fool. As much as he had thought it imperative that he leave her this morning, he saw the strain in her now and realized he had made a serious error in judgment. She was newly married, and no matter how they had come into this union, it had to have stung to be abandoned by your husband of less than twenty-four hours.

He watched her as she allowed the beetle to walk from hand to hand. The creature’s bright blue-green body shimmered in the waning sunlight, like a brilliant jewel. He could see the draw of it; it was a fascinating creature. Yet not at all a subject that interested most people, let alone females.

“What drew you to study insects?”

The question popped out of his mouth quite without him meaning for it to. But he was glad it had, for he was deeply curious what had led her to delve into such a subject.

She shrugged, her gaze still glued to the creature. “I was lonely as a child, and often preferred solitariness to the chaos of my home life.” Her lips quirked in a hollow kind of amusement. “You have met my parents. They have not changed much from when I was a child. If anything, they have only grown worse. And I, unfortunately, have always been…me.”

“I don’t think that’s an unfortunate thing at all,” he murmured softly. “You’re an incredible woman.”

The only indication she heard the softly spoken compliment was a slight start and a blush staining her cheeks. “My elder brother is the opposite of my parents,” she continued, “though still quite different from me. Where they are flamboyant and outgoing and dream incredible dreams, my brother is austere and unfailingly strict, with a very rigid idea of a female’s place in the world. And I could please none of them. No matter where I turned, I was confronted with disappointment and censure. I took to spending most of my time outdoors, immersing myself in the natural world. I was already a curious child, and so it did not take me long to begin wondering about the animals around me, the fish in the creeks I waded in, the birds flying over my head. But most especially I was drawn to the creatures that crawled in the dirt at my feet: What was their purpose, what were their habits, why did they look as they did? And the more I learned, the more I realized how utterly fascinating they were, these insects that seemed everywhere. And,” she said, her voice dropping to a near whisper, “I could be myself around them. They didn’t expect things of me, and I didn’t disappoint them.”

Ash’s heart constricted. He pictured her as a small child, without a single friend, turning to insects in her need for companionship. How lonely she must have been. And yet how resilient, to find light in the darkness and passion from barrenness.

“I’m glad you found something that could bring you happiness,” he replied. “And you are writing a scientific paper on these beetles?”

She nodded, cheeks turning crimson, then shrugged. “I was. Before my parents destroyed the equipment and specimens I had managed to collect.”

He stilled in shock, studying her stiff profile. “They did what?”

Again that shrug, this time more jerky than the last, as if she were shrugging off a bad memory with it. “I suppose it was my own fault. I was so consumed with my research I was not paying attention to other important aspects of my life.” Her lips twisted wryly and she sent him a sideways look. “Such as finding a husband.”

He found himself smiling in return. “That’s something you definitely don’t have to worry about any longer,” he murmured. “And so you may continue your research to your heart’s content. What is the next step in completing your paper and sending it off to that society you were talking about?”

To his surprise, she frowned. “You cannot have any interest in that,” she muttered, her tone telling him she thought he was merely humoring her.

Once more his heart wrenched, this time at what she must have gone through with her parents in regard to her scientific pursuits. Life was not easy for women, especially ones with such aspirations. He had seen enough of her enthusiasm for her insects to know that losing all those things she had spent so much passion and effort into compiling must have been devastating. For a moment he felt a burning anger simmer beneath the surface for what her parents must have put her through in their need for her to marry well. But instead of instinctively smothering that anger, he felt the strange desire to cultivate it, to use it to…what? To turn back time and change how her parents had treated her? An impossibility. And yet…

But she was looking at him, hurt in her eyes. “I assure you,” he replied, slowly lest she misinterpret him, “I am very much interested.”

Still she peered at him, a small frown creating a divot in between her brows. But there was something soft in her gaze now. Then, before he knew what she was about, she held out her hand.

“Would you like to hold it?”

It was nervously said, as if she expected him to recoil in disgust. In answer he held out his hand, palm side up, beside her own.

Her eyes, those beautiful turquoise eyes, softened even more. She gently nudged the beetle, and soon it was walking from her hand to his.

It was so small, so light, he barely felt its delicate legs as it scurried across his palm. Yet he sensed the true weight of it, for there was something incredibly important about this moment, as if Bronwyn was entrusting something precious to him.

Shaken by such a revelation, he passed the insect back to her. She accepted it, her hand brushing his, sending ripples of awareness through him before, with infinite care, she moved her hand close to the plant beside her, letting the insect make its way back to it. She was quiet for a time, watching its progression across the leaf. Ash remained quiet as well, aware of a deep contentment coming over him by just sitting here beside her. There was a stillness in his soul he had not felt in too long.

Suddenly, shifting slightly, she turned to look up at him. “Why did you leave Caulnedy this morning?”

He could lie, of course, and claim he’d had business elsewhere. She need never know that he left to keep distance between them.

But he could not. He recalled the pain in her eyes when she learned he had concealed his true identity from her. She deserved nothing but honesty from him. At least in the things he could be honest about.

“I thought it would be best.”

Her brows puckered. “Best?”

“Yes.” He sighed, plucking a blade of dried grass from the ground, studying it closely so he might not have to look her in the eye. “I’m leaving in a fortnight. And though we have become…physical with one another, we have agreed this is to be a marriage of convenience and nothing more. I thought it best to make certain there was no emotional attachment between us.”

He didn’t know what he expected her reaction to be at his confession. Whatever it might have been, it was not the quick bark of laughter that burst from her lips.

“Did you worry I would fall in love with you?” she asked, disbelief and humor coloring the words.


Tags: Christina Britton Historical