Page 20 of Make My Wish Come True
He winced at the unfamiliar title. “I wasn’t trying to hide that.”
“Of course not,” she said. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of, unlike stealing a cat.”
He stifled a surprised laugh. “See, that’s why I didn’t tell you, an intrepid liberator of felines. I feared to appear a pasty-faced wastrel in your eyes.”
“Never,” she replied. “No one who buys a hungry stranger tea and soup could be a true wastrel.”
Adrian paused. “What would you have thought of me, if you’d known then?”
She pondered it, rolling her lower lip between her teeth. Adrian tried not to stare. “That you were something of a liar,” she finally said. “You concealed your name, and cricket injuries do not make people sneeze, but cats sometimes do.”
He affected indignation. “Did I say cricket? No, it was a war wound. How can you question that?”
Her mouth quivered. “A war wound?”
“Yes, it was a French… hedgehog,” he invented, watching as she tried valiantly not to smile. “Hiding in my trunk to ambush me. I shan’t regale you with the gruesome details, but suffice to say I cannot set eyes on any creature with quills without bursting into the most violent sneezing.”
She choked, ducking her head. Her shoulders shook. “Cats don’t have quills,” she said, her voice trembling.
“And it wasn’t your cat that made me sneeze,” he replied with dignity. “There must have been a hedgehog in that travel chariot at one time.”
She put a hand over her mouth and glanced up at him, her eyes glowing with tears of laughter. “You’re a wretched liar,” she managed to gasp.
“I am,” he agreed. “I dislike lying, which is why I came to apologize.”
Her amusement died away. She dabbed her eyes with her fingers, avoiding his gaze, then darted a look at the cottage.
“First allow me to return something of yours.” He dug the small bundle of her hairbrush and nightgown from the pocket of his greatcoat and offered it.
She blushed scarlet as she realized what it was, and stuffed it into her basket. “Thank you, my lord.”
My lord. Oh God, he was making a mess of this. “I’m sorry,” he blurted out. “I should have come sooner, but it’s all uproar at Highvale, and I’ve only made it through by telling myself every night that tomorrow I would come, only for some new disaster to spring up on the morrow, until finally today I snuck away from everything to come tell you… well, that I’m sorry for not coming sooner.”
“I see.” Head still averted, she was quiet for a long moment. “I was walking out to gather some evergreens for decoration. Would you care to walk with me?”
Relief flooded him. “I would be delighted.” Beyond measure.
She didn’t take his arm, but they walked side by side toward the woodland that hid the cottage from view of the road.
“Very well,” she said as they reached the shelter of the trees. “I am sober and composed now, if you have something serious to tell me.”
Adrian opened his mouth to explain, to ask forgiveness, to ask about her family, and what he said was, “I’ve missed you.”
Gwen’s eyes darted toward him, wary and doubtful.
“I have,” he confessed. “Perhaps I’ve no right to say that, but your company made a trip that had promised to be grim and melancholy into an adventure that made me smile and laugh. You were on the same urgent purpose as I was, not knowing what you would find when you arrived, but you faced it with grace and charm and the most stubborn good humor I’ve ever encountered.”
Now he darted a look at her, to see how this was being received. She was listening, her face pale.
“I sent you the cup of tea and soup merely to be kind, with no expectation of anything. But when you thanked me, it felt as if I’d been waiting my whole life to hear your voice. I walked out of that inn and couldn’t manage three steps before I knew I was taking a wrong turn. It was as if an alarm had been raised inside my head, warning me not to walk away from you. And… I still feel that way.” He took a deep breath, because she still hadn’t said anything. “So I’ve come to apologize for taking another wrong turn, for leaving when you wished to speak to me. I felt very guilty for what happened that night?—”
“Don’t,” she said softly.
“But neither did I wish you to be forced into something you did not want, with a perfect stranger,” he went on, even though his heart had begun to throb with hope. “You asked me for discretion, and of course you have it. But if you are willing to consider more from me… I would like it very much.”
* * *
Gwen’s mind had disconnected from her body. Physically she stood poised and still, listening to Adrian confess his feelings. Mentally she was a mess, her thoughts running in wild loops and circles.
