“Oh…” Lila dropped her chin to her chest, folding a lavender-colored Spencer jacket with less enthusiasm than before.
“But I am sureyouwill,” Caroline hurried to say. “There is so much to do—that, I fear, is why I do not like it much. I can never decide where to go, and then I become overwhelmed and go nowhere, retreating to my chambers with a book or my drawing papers.”
Lila brightened at that. “Well, Your Grace, I can well understand that. I just hope that I’ll get to see some of it.”
“I will make sure of it,” Caroline promised. “Indeed, I?—”
A knock at the door halted the conversation, Caroline’s face immediately simmering with heat as a low voice said, “I do hope everyone is decent?”
“Lila and I are choosing things for London!” she replied in a rush.
The door opened and Max stepped in, standing tall and genteel. He gave a nod of acknowledgment to Lila. “Miss Boskins, I did not realize my wife had company. Please, ensure she does not take enough to break the wheels off the carriage.” His gazeturned to the stack of books beside Caroline. “I would suggest no more than half. You will tell yourself that you will read them, but you will not.”
“I am taking justtwotrunks,” Caroline protested, offended by the notion that he thought her demanding. “And you do not know how much I will read.”
“How many books have you read during our honeymoon?” he pointed out.
She narrowed her eyes at him. “That is different. In place of reading books, I dedicated my time to reading the manual of the mysterious gentleman known as Maximilian Dennis.”
“Has it been published so soon?” he quipped back. “Goodness, it must not be very good.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
His eyes glittered with amusement, but it did not reach his lips. “It means that there is still much to learn. I feel I hardly knowyouat all.” He pointed his chin at the stack of books once more. “Those are novels, Caroline. Are you aware? I expected you to try and smuggle great tomes of astronomy and architecture into your trunks. Hence, my warning about the weight.”
She looked at him for a moment, trying and failing to get a measure of the man she had found herself married to. It had been the same way ever since the apple tree incident.
Some days, she thought she might like the life they could share, finding comfort in their companionship. Some days, she could not help feeling like she was trying totrickherself into being content with such a life, devoid of passion, absent from the romantic love she had dreamed of. On other days, when he was busy and she was alone, she could not stand it at all.
But then there were a handful of days when he was a different creature entirely—flirtatious, almost, with his full attention fixed on her, making sweet gestures, listening to her intently, asking her questions about her interests that no one hadeverasked her. On those days, his handsome looks made her stomach flutter despite herself, and she found herself leaning in closer, hoping that a clear spark would jump between them, letting her know that he could be more than a mostly affable companion.
One week ago…Her mind drifted back against her will.
They were sitting on the low wall of the reflecting pool when she had spied something in the center. A glitter of some kind.
“What is that?” she had asked. “Has someone tossed in a coin for luck?”
Max had grinned wolfishly and the next thing she knew, he had kicked off his boots and swept her up into his arms. “We ought to take a closer look,” he had said, as she had yelped and laughed, clinging to his neck.
The strength and power of him as he had dipped her all the way down, almost to the water’s surface, without so much asstraining, had had a strange effect on Caroline. She had become flushed and breathless, one hand cradling the back of his neck, her fingertips touching the soft, wavy golden mane of his hair. Her other hand had gripped his upper arm, astonished by the muscle she felt, flexing and bulging as he continued to hold her over the water.
“I do believe it is a coin for luck,” he had said in that low, sultry voice that sent tingles down her spine. “Shall we leave the one who threw it their luck, or shall we take it for ourselves?”
“I say… we leave it and add one of our own,” she had replied, reveling in the closeness of him. He had smelled of woodsmoke, soap, and something richer and spicier, like sandalwood or bergamot. An intoxicating aroma that had lingered in her senses for days afterward.
“I rather like that notion,” he had told her, carrying her safely back to the low wall, and setting her down. Then, he had taken a shilling from his pocket and holding her hand, had placed the coin in her palm. “Throw it and make a wish, Caro. Make it a good one.”
It was the first time he had called her ‘Caro.’ He had not done it since.
She had gaped at the coin. “I cannot toss a shilling into the water! Something smaller, surely.”
“I want you to have a shilling’s worth of luck,” he had replied, his eyes gleaming in that way that made her feel unsteady, eventhough she was seated. His hand had not yet released hers, his touch warm and undeniably intimate, his thumb stroking the soft skin of her gloveless hand.
In her mind, she held the coin and considered what her wish might be, but not before adding the proviso…If it creates six ripples at least, my wish will come true.
That done, she had made her wish, listening to theplinkas the coin hit the water and slowly drifted to the bottom.
“What did you wish for?” Max had asked, leaning in, his eyes flitting to her lips for a moment.
