Page 49 of The Viscount and the Vixen
“Maybe when you snuck out, she snuck in.”
“I doubt it.”
A sadness coming into her eyes, she gazed toward the windows. “There’s a part of me that wishes your father did indeed see her.”
“Perhaps it’s enough that he believes he does.”
She gave her attention back to him, a slight crease between her brows. “I can’t imagine a love that grand.”
“Wasn’t yours?”
Slowly she shook her head, melancholy washing off her in waves. “No, not even in the beginning, when our love was new and untried.”
“What of your parents? Did they not love each other?”
“In their own way I suppose they did.” She stood, signaling the end to that topic. He wasn’t even certain why he’d asked. “I should get ready for our outing.”
She walked from the room, and he had the oddest realization: he rather wished the love that had cost her so much had been a grand one.
Chapter12
The open buggy contained a single bench, so Portia sat beside Locksley while he expertly handled the two horses. She wasn’t surprised by his skill or the fact that he hadn’t chosen a vehicle that required a driver. He was accustomed to doing for himself. He didn’t seem to mind it or consider being pampered as his due. She knew she needed to stop comparing him to other men she’d known, and yet she couldn’t quite seem to help herself. He possessed not only a physical strength but an inner one as well. She couldn’t imagine him succumbing to madness, doubting himself, questioning his abilities—couldn’t imagine him ever being anything except confident in his beliefs and actions.
She was rather glad he’d asked her to join him. While she welcomed time to herself, she wanted to be more than simply his bedmate. She wanted to mean something to him, which was a silly thing to wish and yet she did.
Although they didn’t speak, there was a comfortableness to the quiet. She found it pleasant being with him in the silence, because he wasn’t striving to figure her out. Sometimes when he asked his questions, her guard would shoot up, and she’d worry that he might uncover something she didn’t wish him to know. He was too smart, too discerning by half. If he weren’t, she’d now be married to his father. She wouldn’t be taking a ride with her husband.
The village came into view, sooner than she’d expected. “We could have walked,” she murmured.
“I haven’t the time. I need to get to the mines.”
“Do you not have a foreman to oversee matters?” she asked.
“I like to keep my eye on things.”
“Including me, I suppose.”
“Especially you.”
She was taken aback by the pang his words brought. “I’m not going to run off with the silver.”
“I didn’t think you would. You’re smart enough to know that I would find you—and make you pay.”
She suspected he’d make her pay in the most pleasant of ways. He didn’t strike her as a man who would ever harm a woman.
Slowing the carriage, he brought the horses to a halt in front of a shop with a sign that read “Village Cryer.” In the window was what looked to be the front page of a recent edition. It proclaimed, “Lord Locksley Takes Wife!”
“It seems the vicar’s been a busy fellow spreading the word of our marriage,” Locksley groused.
She didn’t know whether to be flattered or alarmed. “How far a reach does this newspaper have?”
“The window there is it, but I’m sure we could have another printed if you wish to put it in the post to your family.”
She looked over, not surprised to find him studying her, gauging her reaction. “They wouldn’t care.”
“It wouldn’t give you a sense of satisfaction to let them know you haven’t done too badly for yourself?”
“I am not so petty as to take delight in boasting my good fortune. Do you think the vicar reported our marriage to theTimes?”
