He groaned. Did she know how much she tempted him? Especially when she licked her lips and looked up at him like a botanical temptress?
“If we lay back down,” he said, “we will tarry much too long.”
She sighed and stepped away. He wanted to watch her dress, to see the sensuous way she moved her body even when she was doing nothing more than pulling on her stockings. But she glanced over her shoulder not at him but the location of the sun. He looked too and was startled to see it already heading toward the horizon. They had definitely tarried here too long.
With a groan, he dressed as well. It was hard tucking everything back away, especially when he knew she peeked at him. His cock was hungry for more, and she was making him regret promising to wait to propose to her. He wanted her now and not in a year’s time when his finances were settled. Even total disaster would be easier with her by his side and in his bed. But in this—as in all things with her—he knew that patience was the key. She needed the slow approach, and so he forced himself to wait.
And in the meantime, he packed up the remains of their meal. She went to gather “a few cuttings” while he hitched up the gig. He worked as quickly as possible, but his mind kept replaying moments from this afternoon. He ought to think about his plans, but she filled his thoughts and—
“Jackson! Jackson! Come quick!”
Her cries startled him and the horse as she came tearing full tilt from around the side of the castle. He spun and broke into a dead run straight at her. As he moved, he scanned her face and body but could see no injury, no blood. Nothing but the excitement in her face and the wind through her hair.
He caught her with a rush, grabbing her around the torso rather than have her flatten them both. He spun her around merely to absorb their momentum so they could both remain upright. And when he finally set her onto her feet, she giggled—actually giggled—at him.
“You look so terrified.”
He could already see that she was happy, so at least his terror had subsided. “You gave me a scare,” he said. “What happened?”
“Come see!” she said as she grabbed his hand and headed back up the hill.
“Gwen, we must get back.”
She rolled her eyes. “Come. See!”
So he did. And the time he took was worth a month’s delay in all his plans. Fortunately, just like her, it was a miracle dropped into his lap at just the right time.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Gwen laughed asshe tugged Jackson around the corner. “I was going to the kitchen garden. There always is one and who knows what could have grown there since the place has been abandoned.”
“Slow down, Gwen,” he said as he intertwined their fingers.
“I have slowed down!” She wanted to run, run, run with her arms spread wide and the wind flowing through her hair.
“The kitchen was over there.”
“I know! But I got turned around and stumbled upon the bath house.”
“Good lord, that caved in decades ago.”
“And a good thing too,” she said. They cleared the last tree, and she made an expansive gesture. “Look!”
He did, and she saw his eyes widened. “Are those—”
“Daffodils. Not yet bloomed. Because of the remaining walls, this place must have kept the snow longer than the rest.” Plus there was shade from the nearby trees as well. And now they had a small field of young daffodils.
“This is fantastic!” he exclaimed as he stepped closer to look. He stopped just short of the closest flower, clearly not wanting to crush any of the crop. “We can take these with us to London when we return.” He grinned. “And now we have extra plants to sell.” He looked around. “Maybe enough to cover this year’s expense and invest in next year.”
She nodded. That was her thought exactly.
He rubbed a hand down his face. “There isn’t time to figure this out now. I need to think.”
She stayed silent, respecting his need to think. Her mind was spinning with the possibility of timing their crop such that they weren’t flooding the Season with daffodils for two weeks, then nothing for the rest of the year. She’d often wondered if the environment could be adjusted to speed up or delay blooming. This dilapidated bath house told her it could. Nature had already set it up for them. She just had to figure out how to maximize the late blooming yield—
“We need to go back to the house now. We’re going to be very busy in the next couple days and I need you to start training now.”
She grimaced. “Must I?”