Page 28 of The Autumn Wife
“Cecile.” Cool air hit the bottom of his lungs as he sucked in a sharp breath. “That kiss—hell, I sure can’t forget it.”
“Theo, leave me some dignity, please.”
How she flushes like the sunrise.
“It was lovely,” she continued, breathless, “but I’m ashamed at my behavior.”
“Your behavior?” Beneath the table, the porcupine made a mewling sound. “Cecile, you shouldn’t be ashamed of what we shared—”
“Please stop.”
She burrowed into herself like a frightened turtle before stretching her head high again. He despised with a new fierceness the husband who’d hurt her and made her feelashamed.
“You are a beautiful, warmhearted woman.”Look at me.“I took advantage of the moment. I can’t say I regret it.”
“There’s nothing to regret.” She grasped her own arms, digging her fingers into her sleeves. “I was a willing partner. You were kind and…restrained.”
Barely, he thought.
“You also proved something to me that night. Now I know not all men are monsters.”
She held his gaze, her brown eyes soft and vulnerable.
Theo had thought the Reverend Mother’s earlier praise had been gratifying—restoring a measure of his self-respect—but Cecile’s gentle confession propelled him a thousand miles into air so thin he stopped breathing.
“I’m grateful for the lesson,” she continued, flexing her fingers on her arms, “as well as the advice about not telling Sister Martha about the kiss. Because as much as you think I’ll never be a nun, I have no choice but to persuade Sister Martha to make me one.”
Why?
Why be a nun when I can make you mine?
The words slammed against the back of his throat, only to shatter against the solid wall of anothervow. Back in Guéret waited unfinished business, as well as a grieving mother and six sisters and two brothers too young to be burdened with family responsibilities. He’d spent four years vowing to put the pieces back together.
A future with Cecile was impossible
“I’ll be working on the chapel for a few more weeks,” he said, “until the temperature drops closer to freezing. I’ll do my best to be a gentleman.”
She ducked her head to hide a smile. “But you’ll be back again in the spring to finish the chapel, Theo. Keeping your distance will be difficult.”
Woman, you have no idea how difficult this is.
Even the wind conspired against them. He couldn’t drag his eyes away as the breeze toyed with a few curled strands that had fallen from the pinned bun at the nape of her neck. Best to tell her his plans and leave no shred of hope between them.
“I won’t be back in the spring.” He dropped his voice and rose to his feet. “In five weeks and four days, I’ll be a free man—sailing on a ship back to France.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Standing in the convent’s chilly, low-ceilinged office, Cecile confessed everything to Sister Martha in one long, babbling speech.
Everything but the kiss.
“My dear girl.” Mother Superior straightened amid a pile of crates. “I’ve known from the first that Monsieur Martin is a convict. You mustn’t worry yourself about that. What’s more vexing is the news that he’s planning to leave the settlements and won’t be back in spring.”
Cecile clasped her hands before her, swallowing down a storm of feelings far stronger than vexation. She wondered: Had Theo always planned to take a ship back to France? Even before he’d kissed her senseless on the banks of the Saint Lawrence River? Or had he been just as swept away by feeling as she?
“I’m so desperately in need of masons, I can’t afford to lose one, never mind such a brilliant overseer.” The nun stepped back from a shelf where she’d just placed a foot-tall statue of Mother Mary, flecked with the straw it had been packed in. “How determined is he to follow that plan, do you think? Might he be persuaded to stay?”
The thought of Theo leaving gutted her hollow. “I believe he’s committed, Sister Martha. He’s counting down the weeks to his freedom.”
