Page 87 of One Wicked Secret
“Elsa, if you must revisit the past, let me remind you of a feeling you failed to mention, one we both felt on our wedding day.”
He envisioned himself standing proudly at the altar until he saw her. Then his confidence faltered, replaced by a deep, humbling love. The moment they were pronounced man and wife, a rush of elation had surged through him, so fierce it almost knocked him off his feet.
The irony was he owed Carver’s murderer a debt he couldn’t repay. Something beautiful had been born out of a tragedy.
“What do you think we both felt that day?” she asked.
“Joy.”
“Joy?”
“A joy unlike anything we’d ever known.” A joy short-lived because he’d been forced to leave in the hope the killer wouldn’t find her at The Grange.
She hesitated, then said softly, “I was truly happy then.”
“And you’ll be happy again.”
Doubt flickered in her eyes.
He should say no more, not when their lives hung in the balance. But if anything should happen to him, he wanted her to remember this moment. To know their sacrifices had meant something.
“Elsa, I didn’t marry you to honour a debt to your brother.”
“Y-you didn’t?”
“No. In truth, I don’t care about the two shillings.”
A fragile smile touched her lips. “You don’t?”
“No. I didn’t marry you to save you from ruin, although that weighed heavily in my decision.” He paused. “I married you for the same reason I lured you out of bed in the middle of the night. For the same reason I lay beside you on a blanket gazing at the stars.”
“Because lust is hard to temper?” she said, sounding desperate to know the answer.
“Because I love you. I’m in love with you.” Now more than ever. “Whatever the future holds, know that everything I have done and sacrificed has been because of my unwavering love for you.”
She drew in a deep breath, her eyes filling with tears. He watched her body soften, as if a weight had been gently lifted. She tried to speak, but her trembling smile said everything.
“I love you, Elsa.” He brought her palm to his lips, kissing her through her kid glove. “I shouldn’t have waited this long to tell you. It should have been the first?—”
“Hush.” She flung herself into his lap, the blanket a tangle around her legs, and pressed a finger to his lips. “This is the perfect time to tell me … when you have no reason to make a declaration.”
He brushed her hair off her cheek. “Never doubt the reason I’m in this predicament. It’s for you. It’s always been for you.”
She held his face between her delicate hands and kissed him, the salty taste of her tears coating his lips. “I have my own confessions to make.”
“I look forward to hearing them.”
“I hated riding Zephyr and only came to Thorncroft to see you.”
“Yet you owned that beast like you do me.” Keen to move past the subject of his horse so as not to ruin themoment, he said, “What other secrets have you been keeping?”
“When I asked you to point to the stars, it was because I loved feeling your hot breath against my cheek.”
He pushed the blanket aside and set his hand on her thigh. “I’m confident you’ll feel something hotter than my breath on this journey.” He was so hard in his trousers, he was surprised she hadn’t noticed.
“I was never asleep when you threw pebbles at my window. I was always waiting, hoping you would come.”
He brushed his mouth across hers and untied the ribbons on her cloak. “And those nights when I didn’t come? What did you do then?”
