Page 31 of Tamed By a Passionate Lady
“I do not know the secrets of your heart,” she said slowly. “You have never told me anything of what you hold there. But I can tell you the secrets of mine.”
She took a deep breath.
“I love you, James,” she said, her voice catching again. “I have always loved you, from the minute that I first saw you. I cannot help it – it was as if I was hit by lightning that day, and I have never recovered from it.”
She bowed her head, overcome with emotion for a moment. It felt so good to speak these words to him, at long last. To finally tell him that she loved him. There were so many times when she had wanted to say these words, but hung back, knowing that he wouldn’t appreciate them. Knowing that he did not love her, like she loved him.
“I remember that day clearly,” she said, lifting her head again as tears streamed down her face. “I remember seeing you and noticing how strong and handsome you were. But I also remember your eyes. Your beautiful green-blue eyes, that change with the weather, and what you are wearing. Those eyes that carried a depth of heartbreak within them…”
She had not thought about it for the longest time. That first day that she had seen him. But she was thinking about it now.
***
She vividly remembered what she had worn that day. A white muslin dress, embroidered with tiny forget-me-nots, and a ribbon of deep blue threaded through the bodice.
Her maid, at her family home in Coventry, had spent longer on her hair than normal. She had curled it, letting it hang loose over one shoulder, securing it with tight pins. Then she had placed a golden engraved comb in her hair for effect.
Her mother had been stunned when she had come into her room to fetch her.
“Oh, my,” said the older woman, holding a hand to her mouth. “My beautiful girl! Your hair looks so lovely, hanging over your shoulder like that. I am not used to seeing it in a curl. It is normally so straight.”
Her mother had stepped forward, holding out her hand. “A gift.”
Adaline peered down. It was a necklace. With shaking hands, she picked it up, staring at it in wonder.
A single pearl, in the shape of a teardrop, hanging from a golden chain. It was simple, but it was so beautiful.
“Thank you, Mama,” she whispered, tears in her eyes. “It is exquisite.”
Her mother smiled faintly. “This was a birthday gift to me,” she said, in a quiet voice. “From my dearest friend, when we were young ladies. It seems appropriate to give it to you now, on this occasion.” Her voice still held traces of where she grew up, in a village along the Mersey river.
Mama had helped her put it on, locking the clasp around her neck. Then she had turned to gaze at Adaline, with moist eyes.
“My dearest daughter,” she whispered. “You do not know what happiness this brings me. It is as if a circle is closing.”
Her heart was beating frantically in her chest by the time she made her way slowly down the staircase to the parlour, where she knew that he was waiting.
Mama was already sitting on the settee, sipping her tea. A tall, powerfully built man was standing, looking out of the window. He had his back to her, so she could not see his face when she first entered the room.
Her mother placed the teacup down, standing up. “James,” she said. “May I introduce my daughter, Adaline.”
The man had turned around slowly, facing her. He looked wary, and he wasn’t smiling.
Adaline studied him with wide eyes. He was handsome; so very handsome. His commanding physique would ensure that he drew attention in any room, but it was his face that would hold that attention.
Her heart started to beat faster still. He had a strong jawline, slightly squarish, with a strong, straight nose. A healthy colour in his cheeks, as if he was active, and enjoyed spending time outdoors. His hair was brown, the colour of whisky. But it was his eyes that made her racing heart almost stop.
They were arresting, an indefinite colour, neither green nor blue, but a perfect mixture of both. She could see that they would change from day to day, like the weather. But what she saw within their depths caused her to gasp.
Pain. Pure suffering. A deep sorrow, lurking within.
He smiled, quite suddenly, but she saw that it didn’t reach his eyes.
He bowed politely. “Miss Oakley,” he said. “It is a pleasure to meet you, at long last.”
He took her hand, pressing it to his lips. She felt them brush against her skin, and she felt a strange tingling overtake her, causing her to tremble from head to toe.
It was over in a second. He didn’t linger, straightening, gazing at her with only mild interest. He seemed distracted, lost in his thoughts, as if he did not really want to be there. As if he was very far away in his mind.
