Page 88 of His Spirited Lady
Richard didn’t stop running until he saw her, wearing her work clothes in the middle of the day, her nose in a lily. He closed the distance carefully, and while she didn’t turn, she didn’t run either. Reaching for her an inch at a time, he put his back to her front, his hand on her stomach, and dropped his head until her hair tickled his nose.
“Oliver says that when one cries off, they’re supposed to return everything they’ve been given. You didn’t do that.”
Her fingers covered his, but she didn’t pull him away. “It was just a dried up old lily, Richard,” she whispered. “I didn’t think you’d want that.”
Her linen shirt had been washed to the softness of silk, but it was warmer than a ball gown. “I don’t want my heart back either.” Surely she had it. It hadn’t beat since he’d left her. “I’m an arse, Amelia. With the floppiest brown ears you have ever seen.”
Her sputtered laugh dissolved into a sob that shook through her shoulders and down. Richard turned her into his chest and wrapped his arms around her. She was thinner than in London. “I am so sorry,ma belle. I will never do it again.”
Richard sat in the nearest chair and cradled her in his lap, whispering about what had driven him from her, his conversation with Fiona Allen, his sister, his fight with Oliver, what he’d learned.
“I wrote you a poem.” He took her silence as permission.
“There once was a man fromQuebec,
Who took an incredibletrek.
In search of aprize
That he found in youreyes,
And it’s left him a God-awfulwreck.”
He ended it by kissing her on the forehead.
“I’m still angry with you,” she murmured.
“As you should be.” Richard brushed his lips over her skin. “I fell in love with you the moment you knocked Raymond out of the way and led me to Felton House yourself.”
“For me, it was that day in the market when you were overdressed and talking about shipping.” Her quick kiss struck the tenderest part of his chin. It was the best thing he’d felt in days.
“There’s a naughty line in that poem, isn’t there?” she asked in a whisper.
Her smile caught the sunlight. His fiancé loved a good scandal—just nottooscandalous. He’d spend the rest of his life making sure she smiled like that and she only had shadows under her eyes for the best of reasons.
“I’ll tell you on our wedding night.” Richard teased her lips with his, letting her control when she opened to him, when their tongues touched, how long. “Marry me, Amelia.”
Her dark blue eyes refocused. “I can’t go to Quebec,” she whispered.
“I am more than content to follow you home, if you’ll let me.” If she didn’t, he’d camp at the gate until she took pity on him.
Amelia’s smile widened as she caressed his bruised jaw and played with the curls behind his ear. “You’re already there.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Iwould preferthis section be clearer on the tenants’ properties. There shouldn’t be any doubt that you aren’t responsible.” Amelia dipped her quill into the ink pot. “I’m going to write that in.”
Jasper chuckled. “Of course you are, cousin.” He reclined in her father’s chair, which was vacant only because Father insisted on dancing every waltz with Mother, and she insisted every third tune was a waltz. They would likely be responsible for making the dance passé.
“I warned you my wife is the toughest negotiator I’ve faced.”
His wife. She enjoyed that almost as much as “my husband.”
Richard was wandering the library, hands behind his back as he scanned the shelves. Occasionally, he looked upward at the shelves overhead as though he was deciding how best to climb them to see what treasures were out of reach. He’d be disappointed to learn Father kept his most boring books up there.
Amelia started to tell him that, but decided he could discover it for himself. She had loved coming in here throughout the week to find him exploring. It wasn’t just the books. He asked about every trinket on display, never tiring of stories from her family’s travels.
“I cannot help that I was taught by a smuggler,” she said. She wouldn’t have changed it either. Drake had become one of her most trusted friends, and she was certain he and Richard would be the same one day. They had already had a good start. Drake had offered to deed him her distillery for safekeeping, and Richard had refused.
