Page 75 of Temptations of a Wallflower
Horror struck her. “My God. I’m . . . so sorry.”
He shrugged, though by the stiffness of the motion, hurt still lingered. “That’s how the earl does business.”
“But you aren’t business!” she exclaimed. “You’re his son.”
“Children are means to furthering goals. Or so my father has always believed.”
She could hardly believe a man could be so cold to his own offspring. She imagined a young Jeremy being bullied into obedience, and anger surged. “What he did was wrong.”
“His own father was worse, according to my mother.”
“That’s no excuse.” Her hands curled into fists. “I’m glad I haven’t met the earl. Because if I did, I wouldn’t be very polite to him. In fact, I’d be decidedly unkind.”
A corner of Jeremy’s mouth turned up. “I’d no idea my wife was such a hellion.”
“When it comes to things that matter,” she said, “I am.”
“And I matter?”
She leaned forward and cupped his face with her hand. “Very much so. Anyone who tells you otherwise will feel my wrath.”
He took hold of her hand and pressed a kiss to it. “What of you?” His gaze searched her face. “What are your secrets?”
Panic seized her. She couldn’t reveal herself as the Lady. Not yet. “I am entirely transparent.”
“Everyone’s got a hidden side,” he pressed.
“Well . . .” She searched her memory. “I stole a fichu from my mother when I was seven. She blamed the servants, but I was too afraid to say anything.”
“Children can’t be blamed for their actions.” He shook his head. “What else?”
“I used to hope that I was a foundling,” she admitted. “A lost warrior queen.”
“Who’s to say that you aren’t?” he asked.
“You’ve not seen my mother. We are duplicates of each other.”
“So, she’s beautiful.”
Sarah gave his shoulder a playful shove. “We’re married now. You don’t have to say things like that.”
“It’s precisely because we’re married that I do,” he countered.
Sarah exhaled. Her darkest secret remained safe, but for how long? How could she keep it to herself when he continuously said things like that, things that made her body weak and her heart soften?
They ate quietly, continuing to murmur inconsequential yet deeply important things. She learned thathe’d always had the desire to help others, which did not surprise her. Sarah confessed that she hated gardening and had little head or interest in domestic responsibilities, not when there was a whole world to explore.
An hour passed in serene nullity, filled with neither excitement nor action, yet pleasing nonetheless. She hadn’t known until this moment how much she needed this in her life—the soft passing of time with a handsome, good man, who looked at her as though she was everything to him. She felt as expansive as the sky, and just as generous.
Another hunger continued to thrum through her as they took their outdoor meal. But she could be patient. There was something else she had learned as a married woman over the course of these past days. Sometimes there was pleasure to be had in delaying gratification, rather than diving right into it with reckless abandon. A fine thing to remember when writing—to have her hero and heroine frolic a little before getting to the business of bedsport.
The meal was summarily finished, and Sarah packed away all the leftovers and the empty flagon. As she did this, Jeremy propped himself up against the tree, his legs sticking out in front of him. He tipped his hat forward so that it covered his face, and he folded his hands across his midriff. Preparing for a nap.
She was tired, too. Worn out. Pleasantly so, however. Excitement built as her idea gathered focus.
Before he could drift off, she murmured, “Let’s play a game.”
“What sort of game?” he asked from beneath his hat.
