His head shook, his gaze downward as the tips of his fingers ran across her knuckles and then her palm, tickling the skin. “Your hand—”
“Is fine.”
“I saw your face and I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m sorry. I didn’t even know I had grabbed it, much less crushed it.” His head bent downward and he kissed her palm.
She reached up and set the fingers of her left hand along his jawline. “I know you would never hurt me.”
His eyes lifted to her, his look wary. “You seem so certain of it.”
“I am.”
“How?”
She shrugged. “The same reason you knew you had to protect me in London. Whatever this is between us, it’s innate. Without logical reason. All I’ve been doing during the last month is looking for logic on why I trust you so much, when maybe I just needed to accept what is between us instead of questioning it.”
He didn’t agree with her, neither did he argue. He kissed her hand again and then lowered it between them. “I don’t want you sleeping outside of my bed.”
Her look flickered off of him toward the direction of the manor house. “We promised the dowager we would stay at the house. Sharing a room isn’t proper—even if I am a widow and you are obviously a rake.”
“Then we have separate rooms, but you’ll be sleeping in mine or I’ll be sleeping in yours.”
“Talen, your aunt—”
“Can judge all she wants. I don’t give a boar’s ass about it.” His hand went along her neck, his thumb trailing down along the slope of her breasts. “And not just because I want your body under my hands. I still need you safe. Just because we’re closed in behind grand stone walls doesn’t mean I’m about to let my guard down.”
She nodded, utterly at a loss to argue the point for she didn’t want to be anywhere but in his bed.
“Good. We are here for a few days, no more. We’ll tell the coachman to come round when the roads are passable. Then we’ll leave. We’ll leave no matter what. Whether or not her son arrives by that time.”
“Agreed.” Ness exhaled relief. She too, would rather be traveling north. Staying here a few days wasn’t ideal, but she would be safe enough. And Talen needed this, needed to find some memory of happiness that he could hold onto.Sheneeded it. Needed him not to be left with only the terror of what had happened to his parents. “We can always return on our way back south.”
He turned from her, his eyes on the water, not committing to any future visits to Washburn.
She followed his gaze, watching the ducks sending ripples across the sheen of water. “I never knew why this pond was always so clear. There must be a spring under it.”
He inclined his head toward the water. “Why bring me here?”
“You needed to be still for a moment.” She looked up at him, studying the strong lines of his profile that made her heart tighten in her chest. “You needed to not be in that house. Not riding. Not arranging the future. Not thinking of the border and marrying me. Still.” Her hand flicked forward. “So I thought this place appropriate.”
“I needed this?” He glanced at her, his eyes pondering her face for a long moment. “And?”
She expelled a breathless chuckle, her mouth quirking to the side. “And I have a memory of you here.”
“Do tell.”
“It is a sweet one. One where you weren’t putting toads in my slippers.”
“I hardly believe it.”
She stepped toward the water’s edge, the toes of her boots pressing into the ground where it started to sag with moisture and Talen followed, staying by her side. “Over there, where the ducks like to nest, the ground turns into mud, but one can’t really see it until one’s feet are locked deep into the muck.”
“Which happened?”
“It did. One of the first times I was here. I was stuck for some time, but then I managed to get my feet out. But I lost one of my slippers in the process and I was crying about it and Harriet didn’t know what to do with me. I knew I couldn’t go back to the house with one missing shoe or my father would be mad at me and he was harsh, so I refused to go back.”
“Why would your father even care if you lost a shoe?”
Her shoulders lifted. “I don’t know that he would have even cared about the shoe. But he liked to be angry with me. Angry with my mama. Anything could spark it. The smallest thing like a lost shoe.”