Hugh still kept the masks for certain social situations, but they were no longer shields. Rather, he had them painted in dashing colors—red, gold, deep blue—and wore them with pride.
In two days, they would host a farewell ball for Amelia. Two of the guests included Amelia’s school friends, all of whom would be debuting with her. The house would be full, the ballroom once again in use.
Christiana slid her hand across Hugh’s, lacing her fingers with his. Four months ago, she’d lost a baby in a particularly fearsome bleed—and to her relief, Hugh had grieved the loss as much as she had. For a while, they’d changed the manner of their joining so there was no danger of conceiving. Not to mention, the necessity of chaperoning Amelia, something she could not do with child.
Once they were back from London, they would try again. Christiana’s heart was ready to expand with a family.
He kissed her cheek. “I should have known I would find you out in the cold.”
“Admiring the lack of moat,” she said. “You must admit it’s an improvement on the original.”
“Indubitably.” He pressed the cold tip of his nose against her cheek, laughing when she shuddered. “Are you satisfied?”
“I think it will be lovely come next summer.”
“I have no doubt.” His hand crept up to her breast, and she stopped him before it traveled too high. Although they stood with their backs to the house, it was still conceivable that someone could see them. Amelia, perhaps. As adventurous as Hugh sometimes got, Christiana drew the line at being watched by unsuspecting servants; she would wish that on no one.
“Not here,” she murmured. “Inside. I propose we make use of the billiard table.”
“You intend to distract me again?”
She hummed in amusement, recalling the way she had stood behind him, using her hands on his cock while he’d attempted to play. They had teased each other as they’d played, until eventually neither of them could bear it any longer, and he’d laid her across the table and taken her there and then. “This time,” she said, “I could use my mouth.”
He shifted behind her, showing the effect her words were having on him. His teeth grazed her ear. “Tempting. But I have a different proposal.”
“Oh?”
He spun her to face him, taking a strip of material from his pocket. She frowned at it in confusion as he pulled her glasses from her face and wrapped the blindfold in its place. Carefully, his fingers gentle, he tied it behind her head, ensuring he didn’t trap her hair in the knot.
“There,” he said. “Can you see anything?”
She remained entirely still, letting her other senses fill the gap her lack of vision had left. When she’d been a child, before she’d had her spectacles, she had learned to navigate the world largely through her other senses, using hearing and touch to make up for what her sight lacked.
Perhaps that was why she remained so calm now. Or perhaps it was because Hugh had been the one to blindfold her, and she trusted him implicitly.
“I can see nothing,” she said. “What is this for?”
“You’ll see. Come with me.” His hand slid down her arm to her hand, fingers lacing with hers. Obeying the urging of his body, she followed him, his footsteps crunching on gravel.
“How far are we going?” she asked.
“A little farther. We’re approaching steps. Careful now.”
Testing the ground with her toe, she descended the steps, his hands warm and solid on hers. There were only two sets of steps this close to the house—ones that led into the walled kitchengardens and others that led down to the duck pond. The number of stairs here suggested this was the duck pond. But what did Hugh have for her here? He’d been doing some repairs to the gardeners’ sheds there and had erected a boathouse, but she hadn’t seen it finished. When he’d announced his plans, she had agreed not to disrupt the workers or take a look before it was done.
“Not far now,” he said, his voice by her ear. He led her along a path, and a fountain tinkled to her left. He led her a few more steps, then stopped, putting gentle pressure on her hand so she also stopped. His fingers grazed her cheeks, and he took hold of her blindfold, pulling it over her head. The next second, he restored her glasses, perching them on her nose.
Christiana blinked at the sight before her.
At first, she couldn’t make sense of what she was seeing. The building was small, but it was unlike anything she had ever seen before. There were two flat wooden strips standing directly upright on the roof, connected to a contraction that looked rather like a rope and pulley system. The whitewashed building otherwise looked perfectly ordinary, with a single door standing in the center before her.
Hugh smiled at the look of confusion on her face. “I consulted with an architect and had this designed for you.”
“What is it?” she asked, wondering if she were going mad. Surely, she must be going mad—surely, this could not be what her senses told her it was.
“You once told me you wished to be a patron of the arts. Every opportunity you get, you read books about astronomy and our understanding of the night sky. You have dreamed about the heavens since you were a girl, and of owning a telescope and making your own discoveries. So I wanted to grant that dream.” He handed her a key and motioned to the door. “Open it, Chris. It’s yours.”
Like she were standing outside her body rather than within it, she inserted the key into the lock and turned. Tumblers clicked. She twisted the handle; the door opened.