Page 8 of Marquess of Mistletoe
In another sense, she bitterly resented Leo’s timing. Why must he turn up, so charming, handsome, and blameless,now?She’d been all set to get on with her life, to put fanciful thoughts behind her once and for all…
“Do you not care for the wine?” Leo asked. He’d invited her to join him for supper, and the meal had been superb.
“The wine is lovely, and your compliments were rightly sent to the cook,” Marielle replied. “I don’t know when I’ve had better.”
Leo had acquiredsavoir faire—he knew how to conduct himself. His dismissal of the inn’s serving maid had conveyed both authority and appreciation for her efforts. He poured the wine with that practiced motion of the wrist that prevented stray droplets from marring the linen. He told anecdotes from his time on the Continent that amused without offending.
While Marielle was ready to dump her delicious pear compote over his head.
“Soldiering taught me to appreciate pleasures in the moment,” he said, “rather than save them up for some other day. A good meal deserves to be consumed with relish, and fine music should be listened to, not ignored in favor of gathering up the week’s gossip.”
“I could not agree more,” Marielle said, “which is why I hope you’ll share my bed tonight.”
He toyed with his pears, which had been served with a brandied cream, and sprinkled with cinnamon. She’d spent the entire meal coming to that decision and trying to put it into words, and Leo—who’d spent years in conversation with her—had no reply.
“You heard me aright,” Marielle said. “I’m a widow, and I can find comfort where I please, provided I’m discreet. Ten years ago, you were taken from me, and I’ve always wished…”
It’s Christmas, and I’ve been so good for so long and all that lonely propriety has nearly smothered me. If I’m not careful, I’ll spend another ten years being equally well-behaved in the same sort of cordial, boring company my first husband afforded me…
She would not justify her request though. If Leo didn’t share her longing to explore what might have been, to take advantage of the single night fate had handed them, then so be it.
He laid his hand over hers. “I’ve wished too, Marielle. Across Spain, into France, at Waterloo, and then on to Vienna. I wished that even once, we might have anticipated our vows. I told myself that if I’d shared such intimacy with you, you would not have cast me aside… but those were a young man’s thoughts, and my desire for you is that of a grown man for a woman who knows her own mind.”
Desire. Exactly the right term, but not quite adequate either. “My longing is not exclusively of the body, Leo. You were my first love.”
And despite marrying a good man, an honorable man, Marielle hadn’t met Leo’s like since they’d parted. Helistenedto her, he thought for himself. His humility was as genuine as his self-respect. The longer they’d talked, the more the past had merged with the present into one, bottomless ache.
Party joy, part sorrow, all longing.
“And you were my first love,” Leo replied, “but I am not entirely free to accept the offer you make, much as I’d like to.”
Well, damn and blast. “You’re married,” Marielle said, rising. “I envy your wife, Leo, and will thank you not to share specifics from this encounter with her.”
He was on his feet before Marielle had left the table. “I am not married.”
A small, selfish consolation. “And yet, you’re reluctant. I understand. We’d both put the past behind us, and now I throw myself at you, the epitome of the pathetic widow, and you’re no longer interested in what I have—”
Leo put a finger to her lips. “I’m glad to see you haven’t lost all of your impetuosity. I am not married, I am interested in joining you tonight, but I am also about to embark on marriage negotiations with a suitableparti. We’ve agreed in principle to negotiate, nothing more.”
That was how the whole business began, as Marielle well knew. “You’ve incurred no obligation to this woman. I have no obligations to a prospective husband either.”
Though she’d been considering a suitableparti, as Leo had. Only half-seriously, and mostly out of boredom and loneliness.
He took her hand in both of his, his grasp warm. The fire in the hearth had burned down, and the candles would soon gutter. The shadows showed her both the youth he’d been, and the man he’d become as he aged. Handsome would gradually yield to distinguished, and she would always, always find him attractive.
“What is it you want from me, Ellie?”
She wanted the past ten years restored to them, and yet, that wasn’t reasonable. Leo had apparently prospered during their years apart, and Marielle’s life would be the envy of many.
“I want to share this night with you, Leo. Let’s start there.”
He kissed the back of her hand. “I want to share this night with you too, and will do so joyfully, but in the morning, I must see to some business.”
Was he limiting their encounter to a single night, or sharing his calendar with her? “I have an appointment scheduled for tomorrow as well.”
Though Marielle already knew she’d be canceling her Boxing Day meeting. After the night she planned to spend with Leo, she’d need her rest.
And if he truly meant to pursue those negotiations with that dratted suitable woman, Marielle would need time to recover from the blow of losing him all over again.
