Page 25 of The Earl Takes All
With a small laugh, she looked back out the window. “I love winter.”
He leaned his shoulder against the wall. “I would have thought you’d favor summer.”
“I enjoy summer, but I like the bleakness of winter. It allows for much contemplation.”
“You fancy your thoughts more than I fancy mine, then.” She turned to study him, and he feared he’d given too much away. He kept himself busy with wine, women, wagering, and traveling so he wouldn’t have to examine his life too closely. He’d never possessed much in the way of ambition, other than to have a jolly good time and live with no regrets. Yet still the regrets were there, and a good many of them involved her.
“My lord, dinner is served,” the butler announced. Edward hadn’t even heard Rigdon enter.
Setting aside his glass, he offered his arm to Julia, relishing the feel of her fingers coming to rest in the crook of his elbow. “I believe I failed to mention that you look lovely tonight.”
“It’s nice to be out of black, although I didn’t want to go with anything too bright.”
“A commendable compromise.”
“You’re teasing now.”
She pressed her cheek to his arm, her rose scent wafted up, and it was all he could do to carry on through the doorway and not stop to kiss her. In her condition he could not take things further. Besides, if she’d been struck with the same awareness that night in the garden as he had, she’d have not married his brother.
When they walked into the dining room, the chair at the head of the table didn’t loom quite as large as he’d expected. It had helped matters that he’d dined in the breakfast room that morning, had taken his place at the head of that table. It wouldn’t be quite so uncomfortable doing it here.
Because he had dined with his brother, he knew that Julia preferred to sit at his right rather than at the foot of the table, so he escorted her there now, pulled out the chair for her, helped her settle, refrained from taking the chair opposite her, instead opting for the one that marked his brother’s place. It merely provided him with her profile. He much preferred his view from the other chair.
Wine was poured, the first course brought out. To ensure he made no blunders, he needed to control the direction of the discourse. “Surely you did more than read while we were away.” She blushed a delicate pink hue, and he wondered if she’d done the same while readingMadame Bovaryor any of his magazines with the risqué stories. “How else did you fill your day?”
Delicately, she pressed the napkin to her lips. “I practiced my water coloring. I’m much improved, and I’ve been working on something special.”
“I hope you’ll share it with me.”
His answer pleased her. It was dangerous to please her too much, to have that smile directed his way.
“I’d rather wait until I’m further along.”
“Whenever you’re comfortable.” He sipped his wine, savored the flavor, trying not to recall the essence of the kiss she’d bestowed on him last night. Kissing her was not going to cause her to lose the child. He was going to have to come up with another excuse to avoid those lips, a reason that wouldn’t cause her to doubt herself.
Swirling the wine in his glass, he longed to down the entire bottle but knew he needed to limit himself, keep his wits about him. He was too stiff, too formal with her. He needed to stop thinking that he should relax, so he could relax.
“Do you think Locksley will ever marry?” she asked.
He was grateful for a topic that had nothing to do with them. “If he wants an heir, he must marry.”
“That’s such an unromantic reason to wed.”
“Still, it is reason enough for many lords. Wanting to play matchmaker?”
Pursing her lips together, she shook her head. “No. As much as I like him, I wouldn’t wish the life he offers on any woman. When you took me to Havisham to meet his father, I thought I might go mad during the short time we visited. I can’t imagine what it would be like to live there all the time. It feels so abandoned.”
“It’s not that bad.”
“Because you were young. Boys. Always able to find adventure. But for a woman, I think it would be a very lonely place indeed.”
“Do you find Evermore to be a lonely place?”
“No, I feel as though I belong here. It’s my home. I take joy in it. I don’t know how a woman would ever make Havisham a home.”
He tapped his finger against his wineglass. “It would take a special woman. But then to be honest, I never expected Ashe to marry either.”
She took her wineglass, inhaled the bouquet, set it aside. “Do you think Edward would have ever married?”
