And now he’d have a new dream to dream. Miss Oliver meeting him in Squalton Manor’s secret garden to pick herbs, her white skirts tucked up to avoid brambles, a wicker basket over one arm. The fragrant smell of sun-warmed lavender and mint in the air as he helped her gather plants.
“How are you finding Squalton society?” she asked with a shy smile as she snapped rosemary stalks.
“Surprisingly charming.”
Squalton didn’t need bathing machines, assembly rooms, and souvenir shops—it had Sandrine. She was the inviting, joyful, inquisitive heart of this village. Everyone lit up when they saw her, everyone wanted to speak to her, to be the recipient of her smile or the messenger of some clever witticism that made her eyes shine.
He placed a handful of rosemary in her basket, his fingers brushing hers. “Have you never left?”
“Only one journey to Brighton with my father.” Sorrow shadowed her face. “If he were still alive, I might have gone on other trips with him. My mother doesn’t like to travel and won’t allow me to leave Squalton. If she had her way, I would stay inside the house with her and never leave. I can’t so much as cross a road without her proclaiming that I narrowly escaped being mowed down by a runaway carriage.”
“I haven’t met your mother, but it does sound like she issues far too many orders about how you should live your life.”
“She’s very anxious about matters concerning health and propriety. The day you met me I was flouting her rules by swimming. I want to feel the sun on my face, walk along the beach, listen to the gulls cry, match my breathing to the waves and...” a shy, little glance “... I want to make new friends.”
“Ah, but I’m the unscrupulous rake your mother warned you about,” he said, droppinghis voice to a growl. “Aren’t you afraid to be here alone with me, Miss Oliver?”
“For some mad reason I’m not.” Her smile warmed some forgotten frozen corner of his heart. “I suppose I should be. My mother says that rakes have only one thing on their mind.”
“She’s right, you know.” Torrid images from his dreams thundered across his mind. “I’m everything she ever warned you about.”
“Are you? You strike me as honorable. We’ve been alone together on several occasions, and you haven’t even attempted to kiss me, much less transformed into a ravening beast.”
He snorted. “You have no idea the beastly paths I’ve traversed in my mind. And in my past.”
“Really?” She looked more intrigued than repelled by his warning. “Tell me more about your past exploits.”
“How about we finish picking these herbs and you go safely home to your strict mother.”
“I’ve noticed you always change the subject when I ask you about your past. I think something bad happened to you, but I don’t get the sense that youarebad. I see the kind way you treat Mrs. McGovern and Miss Hodwell. I trust you.”
“You shouldn’t trust me. I’ve lived a regrettable life.”
“That doesn’t mean you can’t be more virtuous in future.”
“I’m leaving Squalton very soon, you know. I should have been long gone. I’ve no idea why I’m still here.”
Her teasing smile said she knew exactly why he was still here. “You’re here because you love Miss Hodwell’s macaroons. You can’t leave before tasting more of those delicacies.”
He couldn’t leave before tasting Miss Oliver’s sweet lips. That’s what he really wanted. That’s why he was still here. It was time to admit that, stop delaying, and leave immediately.
“And before you leave,” she continued, “I’d like to show you Lucidora’s and Coraline’s diaries.”
For a moment he was lost, and then he remembered those were the names of Squalton Manor’s ghostly spinster sisters. “I’ll read about them in your pamphlet,” he muttered. He really should leave now. A clump of lavender came out of the soil, roots and all.
“You mustn’t pull so forcefully,” she chided.
He’d met enough ghosts in Squalton already. The ghost of his ancestor who’d decided to neglect the manor house and turn this beautiful woman against him. The ghost of who Dane could have been if he had been born under different circumstances—a simple, ordinary man who was free to love and build a life with this glowingly intelligent and gorgeous woman.
But he wasn’t that man, and he never could be.
“There’s one thing I’ve been meaning to say to you before I go, Miss Oliver.”
“Oh?” Sunlight found gold in her hair, and her eyes were as cloudless as the summer sky.
“I honestly don’t think you should be wandering about in the manor house. The condition of the structure is unstable. The floorboards couldgive way and send you plummeting into the cellar.”
“Why, Mr. Smith, I never thought you’d sound like my mother.”