Page 16 of The Heir and Spare
She nodded as though that explanation might suffice but probably wouldn’t.
They entered the area with the rose arbor and Miss Elizabeth’s soft gasp was gratifying to him. He was equally enthralled. The garden did not have only the one arbor but many, and bushes of many different colors and varieties. The air was filled with a soft sweetness. He breathed in. “My compliments to Lord Shackley’s gardeners. This is remarkable.”
“A work of art. Someone put their heart in here.” She reached forward and ran her fingertips along the edges of the roses. “See how well they have planned and pruned each bush.” She leaned forward to smell a lavender rose. “Mmm. Like a mixture of honey and lemons.”
She had stepped away from him to admire the roses, and he missed her closeness acutely. How had she so quickly entwined herself in his needs? Did he need her by his side? He needed to spread out his attentions if so…or perhaps he didn’t. As she walked farther long, admiring rose after rose, he could see himself happily at her side for many hours yet without wishing for a break.
She turned to him. “This one is my favorite. Have you smelled any at all? Come, you must determine a favorite.”
He smiled at the game and then dutifully smelled rose after rose in her wake. When he got near to the one she deemed a favorite, he tried to guess which. There were two options, a fiery orange and a subtle lavender. As he smelled one after another she approached and leaned forward again. “What are you doing?”
“I’m guessing which is your favorite.”
Her smile widened. “And? What is the verdict?”
He pointed to the orange. “While I see you are full of passion, I don’t think the smell is one you would prefer to inhale like you were. I’m going to guess the softer lavender?”
She rested a hand on his arm. “You are correct. I do love the orange for its passion, but I could sleep with the lavender on my pillow and wake with it on my hair and skin and be very happy indeed.” She breathed it in again, leaving Darcy with images of her lovely hair spread across a white pillow. He straightened. She was definitely doing things to him no woman had ever done.
“And can you guess mine?”
“Have you chosen?”
“I have.” He crossed his arms.
“Will you not at least give me a direction? You knew the precise location of mine.”
“Too true. It was back at the beginning. I have not found an equal to it yet.”
She tapped her lips with one finger as he realized she was wont to do when about to toy with him. “Now we shall discover your secrets.”
“My secrets?” He laughed.
“Certainly. You can tell a lot about a man by his preferred smells.” She skipped ahead and called over her shoulder. “At least I assume you can.” She began smelling the flowers inearnest at the entrance to their path. But it didn’t take long. “This one, certainly. It’s precise. Strong but not overbearing. And a touch fruity?” She cupped the rose for him to see.
“Fruity?” He shook his head. “I’m not certain fruity says much about me as a man.” His frown must have shown because Miss Elizabeth laughed.
“I did not smell fruit in that. But you are correct about the rose in question. That is my favorite.” He lifted her fingers in his hand and bowed to press his lips to the back of her hand. “Uncannily guessed.” He placed her hand back in the crook of his arm, hoping she’d stay closer now.
“I’m quite enjoying myself, you know.” Her side grin in his direction caused all kinds of interesting thumpings of his heart. He hadn’t been sure up to this moment the precise location of that vital organ but now there was no mistaking it, nor its happiness at the nearness of Miss Elizabeth.
“I’m pleased to hear it, as I’ve made it a personal goal to please you in any manner possible.”
“A personal goal? And when did you make this goal?”
“Right now.” He laughed. “When I saw your smile.” He lifted her hand to his lips again, keeping her as close as possible. “I would give a lot to keep that beauty permanently directed at me.” He tried to express his earnestness, hoped she would know he wasn’t merely saying pretty words.
She studied him for a long moment, her eyes deep windows to her hope and slight misgiving, but after a moment she nodded. “I would find your attempts welcome indeed.”
The air between them felt heavy with possibility. She gazed up into his face and somehow they were closer than moments earlier, her chin lifted, her eyes full of curiosity. He peeked a glance at her lips and their softness was nearly his undoing. “Miss Elizabeth…I?—”
A jarring and somewhat insolent voice called out to them, “Come now, Darcy, you must help us decide.” Lord Perceval, with a wicked revenge-filled gleam in his eye, approached with Miss Mary on his arm.
Touché.Darcy supposed he deserved the interruption since he’d done the same to Lord Perceval just minutes earlier. But he didn’t like it any better for knowing he might deserve it. And his intentions with Miss Elizabeth were honorable. He was not toying with her simply because she was present. He paused. Was he? Did he wish to pursue her in a more permanent manner? He supposed he did. The more he knew her, the more he was inclined. But of course he had no way of knowing what he wanted to do about the rest of his life. Based on his current knowledge, a closeness to her, a more intimate conversation—and he had to admit even a kiss—was on his mind. How could it not be, with her entirely too tempting of a mouth so close? His cravat suddenly felt too tight, his jacket stretched across his shoulders unnaturally, and the area around him too confined. He wished for space and some distance between him and any other person.
Only he was close to them all, most particularly Miss Elizabeth.
She must have sensed something off in him because she removed her hand and stepped over to Miss Mary, linking arms with her. They began a low, out of earshot conversation, causing frowns on both men’s faces.
