Page 64 of Duke of Myste
“Someone I have come to care for deeply,” Richard finished quietly, the admission emerging with characteristic care.
Jane’s heart fluttered at his words, sensing there was more he wanted to say but perhaps wasn’t quite ready to voice. “Richard, I?—”
“I should have said it before,” he continued, his thumb tracing delicate patterns on her waist. “Should have found the courage weeks ago to tell you how much you mean to me. You’ve changed everything I thought I knew about marriage and happiness and what it truly means to live, Jane.”
Jane felt warmth spread through her chest at his heartfelt words. “You mean a great deal to me, too,” she whispered. “More than I ever expected when we got married.”
Richard’s answering smile was brilliant enough to light up the entire room. “Then perhaps Vauxhall Gardens will provide the perfect opportunity to practice this new philosophy of ours.”
“What philosophy is that?”
“That love matters more than propriety,” Richard said, pulling her down for a kiss that tasted of promise and possibility. “And that some adventures are worth any amount of scandal.”
As Jane melted into his embrace, she thought perhaps Harriet had been right about seizing opportunities for wonder and excitement. After all, falling in love with her husband was proving to be the greatest adventure yet.
Outside the windows, a gentle spring rain began to fall, washing the estate clean and promising new growth in the days to come. But inside the warm circle of Richard’s arms, Jane felt nothing but gratitude for the courage to risk her heart and the extraordinary man who had proven worthy of such trust.
“Jane,” Richard murmured against her hair, his voice carrying a note of reluctance. “I’m afraid we’ll need to return to London soon. There are parliamentary matters requiring my attention, and I’ve delayed them as long as possible.”
Jane tilted her head to look at him. “When?”
“By the end of the week, if you’re agreeable. I know our time here has been…” he paused, searcing for the right words.
“Perfect.” Jane finished softly. “But London is where our life together truly lies, is it not?”
Richard’s smile was tender. “Indeed it is.”
Their intimate moment was interrupted by a soft whine from Pippin, who had apparently grown bored with his position by the fireplace and was now demanding attention.
Richard sighed with theatrical resignation as the spaniel padded over to them with his usual enthusiasm.
“He has developed quite the attachment to these evening visits,” Richard noted, watching as Pippin curled up on the Persian rug with obvious satisfaction. “Mrs. Crawford told me that he spends considerable time outside my study door each evening, as though waiting for an invitation to join in whatever activities might be taking place within.”
“Perhaps he simply recognizes quality when he sees it,” Jane suggested, scratching behind the hound’s silky ears. “Or perhaps he understands that the master of the house requires companionship during his contemplative hours.”
“I do not require companionship,” Richard protested, though his voice lacked conviction as he watched Pippin’s contented face. “I merely tolerate his presence because removing him would cause more disruption than allowing him to remain.”
“Of course,” Jane agreed solemnly, though her eyes danced with mirth. “How very practical of you to tolerate such devoted affection simply to avoid inconvenience.”
Richard shot her a look that suggested he was perfectly aware of her mocking tone, but before he could respond, Pippin rose from his comfortable position and trotted over to his chair, placinghis front paws on Richard’s knee with an expression of hopeful expectation.
“Shameless creature,” Richard muttered, though he couldn’t quite suppress the smile that tugged at his lips as he obligingly scratched the spaniel’s ears. “He has learned to manipulate both feminine and masculine sensibilities with remarkable efficiency.”
“I believe he is simply ensuring that both his humans are properly and thoroughly attended to,” Jane observed fondly. “A most thoughtful approach to household management.”
She smiled to herself as her husband’s fingers found a particularly sensitive spot on Pippin’s neck and his left leg started rabbit-kicking. They laughed as Richard withdrew his hand, earning an energetic yap from the spaniel before he settled back in his spot on the Persian rug.
Vauxhall Gardens would be spectacular, Jane was certain, but it could hardly compare to the wonder of discovering how love, when freely given and joyfully received, could transform even the most practical arrangement into something quite magical.
CHAPTER 20
“Good heavens,” Jane breathed, her eyes wide with wonder as their carriage passed through the illuminated entrance of Vauxhall Gardens. “I heard whispers, but this is…”
“Extraordinary,” Richard finished, though his gaze was fixed not on the spectacular displays surrounding them, but on his wife’s face, radiant with excitement in the flickering light of a thousand lanterns.
The pleasure gardens spread before them like something out of a fairytale. Colored lights strung between ancient elms created a canopy of glowing orbs, while gravel paths wound between pavilions where musicians played and acrobats performed feats that defied natural law.
The very air seemingly vibrated with possibility and magic.
