Page 74 of Forget Me Not

He looked over at the fire, then around the room. “Your bedchamber doesn’t reek of perfume. The airing out must have been successful.”

She laughed. “Yes, thank the heavens. The smell was overwhelming. And you, to your delight, I’m certain, will not feel obligated to offer your room as a refuge.”

“I didn’t offer out of obligation, Julia.”

“Out of pity, then.”

Lucas placed his hands on the bed, one on either side of her. He leaned toward her, stopping mere inches away. She could hear his every breath, could feel it tickle her lips.

“Not pity, Julia,” he whispered.

She tried to swallow, but her heart was lodged so firmly in her throat that it proved impossible to dislodge.

His lips brushed softly over hers. Her breath caught. He didn’t pull away. His kiss was quietly tender, but her heart responded loudly.

She ran her fingers lightly over the silk of his jacket collar. His hand moved to cup the back of her head. His kiss grew more fervent but no less gentle. Julia utterly melted. Her fingers slid to his neck, where his throat lay bare above his lace collar.

She felt him pull in a shaky breath. The kiss abruptly stopped.

She kept her eyes closed, not wanting the moment to end.

“You are feverish, sweetheart.” Lucas spoke quietly and not entirely steadily. “You need to rest.”

She hazarded a glance. He slid off the bed and stood, then moved to a chest in the corner and pulled out a thick wool blanket.

She lay back more fully, moving about, searching for a comfortable position.

Lucas returned with the blanket and sat next to her, his back against the headboard, his legs stretched out, feet crossed at the ankles. He flicked his blanket out, and it fell neatly over his legs and lap. He snatched a book off her bedside table and set it on his lap. “Now, where did you leave off reading about the adventures in St. Kilda?”

She turned onto her side, facing him. “You are going to read to me?”

He ran his thumb over the page edges. “Until you fall asleep.”

“You don’t have to if you’d rather sleep in your own room.” Did he hear the hope in her voice?

“Waking up this morning and seeing you there... I don’t want to miss that tomorrow, Julia. So, if you will permit it, I would like to stay.”

“I would like that as well.” She tucked her hands beneath her cheek, smiling as his words washed over her. He wanted to see her when his eyes first opened in the morning. He wanted them to be together.

A gentleman who felt that way wouldn’t disappear without warning. He would be eager to be with her, reluctant to be away. He might even, one day, wish to take her with him on one of his trips. She hadn’t done any traveling, but she had enjoyed reading about the far-off places in the books he’d given her. She could almost imagine herself visiting them.

“When last I read about St. Kilda,” she said, “the brave climbers had only just arrived at the island with their long ropes.”

He adjusted her blanket. “Close your eyes, sweetheart. Let yourself rest.”

“Thank you for staying,” she whispered.

Lucas flipped through the book before settling on a page. In a soothing and soft voice, he began to read, “‘They furnish themselves with ropes to carry them through the more inaccessible rocks; of these ropes there are only three in the whole island, each of them twenty-four fathoms in length; and they are knit together and lengthened by tying the one to the other...’”

She closed her eyes and let his familiar voice soothe her into a warm and restful sleep, filled with dreams of mountains and climbing and soft, soul-melting kisses.

Chapter Twenty-Five

When Julia awoke the nextmorning, her head no longer ached, she was blessedly warm, and sunlight spilled deep into her room. She had, it seemed, slept half the morning away. The blanket Lucas had used the night before lay folded at the foot of the bed. He had likely been up for hours. He had never been one to let even a moment of the day slip away from him. Forever moving and going and chasing down the next adventure. His boundless energy had been a boon to their childhood exploits.

How sweet he had been the night before, worried for her health, wishing to help, wanting to be beside her. Those were sentiments she’d often dreamed of experiencing in her marriage. During her loneliest moments, she’d taken comfort in those dreams.

She slipped from her bed and, barefooted, tiptoed to the door of the circular room. But he was not inside. More likely than not, he was in the ground-floor sitting room with the rest of the Gents.

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