The house hummed with new life. Christ, he’d seen McArdle smile at her earlier today. McArdle, whose name should reallybe McCurdle, because he had a constant expression of judgmental distaste, as though life and society had disappointed him so thoroughly that his lips had forgotten how to do anything but frown.
He looked out the window again, noting the now empty path. Where was she? Somewhere in the house working her magic, maybe heading to her writing desk? Bringing to life the denizens of Clovercote in the same way she’d created an entire new world out of thin air, one crawling with dragons and steeped in enchantment. He wanted to return to Vyranthrall. He wanted to know how the story ended, true, but he also wanted to escape its creator, dive into a reality where she wasn’t always so tantalizingly at hand.
Or right behind him.
“Whatever are you looking at, Dex?” Her voice danced across his senses. “I see nothing outside to glare at with such consternation.”
He’d been caught thinking about her, yearning for her. And here she was, the sunshine of her gown and her teasing smile breaking through the clouds in his mind.
She was a crackling fire on a cold damp night. All he wanted to do was stretch toward her, warm himself in her smile. His capacity for joy had atrophied, his smile was out of practice, stiff with unuse, like cold fingers, aching joints.
“I thought I saw a deer at the edge of the woods.”
“A deer? How magical. I adore the woods on your grounds.”
“Our grounds,” he reminded her automatically.
“Ah, yes! I suppose so. Our grounds.” She’d plucked a yellow rose on her walk through the garden. Now she traced its petals with one finger, looking at the rose and not at him.
An awkward silence fell. Normally, she would fill that silencewith chatter but she chose to remain silent, as though she believed him capable of finding the perfect topic of conversation. He cleared his throat. “Are you making any progress on the Clovercote novel?”
“Some, although I confess I’ve been a bit distracted. I’ve had several letters in response to the advertisement we put in the papers for news of Papa. None of them with any ring of veracity. People wanting the reward, pretending to have knowledge. But it’s all false.” She sighed. “Maybe nothing will come of it.”
He’d known nothing would come of it, but he’d been willing to go along for her sake. She’d have to come to terms with her father’s loss at some point. “I’ll renew the advertisement for another month while I’m in London, shall I?”
“Then you’ll be going again soon?”
“Yes. I’ve much to attend to. Taking care of business, tenants... business things.” He realized how lame he sounded, and he was glad that she chose to ignore it. She looked a little vexed, with a pout forming on that kissable mouth.
“Well, it must be frighteningly fascinating to keep you so long away from home. While you’ve been visiting your tenants, I’ve been getting to know the household staff. There’s a whole world happening here, right under our noses, every bit as exciting as the London ton. McArdle’s quest to squash the more creative tendencies of the cooks, Cloris and Agnes antagonizing the gardener with their criticisms of his vegetable plot. My Tessie has even developed feelings for one of your footmen.”
“Which one?”
“George.”
“The strapping lad from the village?”
“That’s the one.”
“He’s a good fellow. They should be very happy together.”
“They’ve only known each other a matter of weeks.”
“You and I married after a month.”
“We were forced to marry.”
“Indeed.” He cupped her cheek with his palm, stroking his thumb over her plump lower lip. “We are married. Therefore, we must do something before I depart for London. Can you guess what that is?”
“Er...” A fetching flush rose in her cheeks. She surely knew what he was going to say. She was thinking about consummating, as much as he was. “You must throw a dazzling dinner party for all of the neighboring gentry, including your brother, Rupert?”
He froze, her words throwing ice water on his erotic imaginings. “What do you know of Rupert?”
“The household staff pointed out his house. You can see it from your grounds and yet you’ve never invited him to meet me. It’s extremely vexing.”
“You’re extremely vexing.”
“I’m just getting started. I also discovered that—”